Last night having sat and tutted my way through a programme/documentary about the history of oil, my eyebrows knitted together and my feet twitching in irritation, the evening ended with a sneezing crescendo, brought about by the behaviour of my log burner. Most people's stoves send smoke up the chimney, but currently mine leaks smoke out under the windowsill and skirting board, as well as the chimney. Problem soon to be solved, clearly a new liner needed in the chimney, to prevent smoke seeping into the cavity walls. It took a shaft of sunlight yesterday afternoon, beaming in through the window after I lit the cursed thing, for me to solve this problem. Prior to this moment of revelation. I had been blaming it on the bargain basement stove, which is not the one I chose, but a copy that he slid into the house and hoped I would not notice. I kept tell him HIM that it was smoking and that I felt like some sort of East Anglian kipper in my own front room, and I had of course been told I was imagining it.
An urgent loft conversion starts next week, and our builder who also takes on the role as my husband's minder, in case of sudden DIY projects, has banned my man from going up on the roof and having anything at all to do with this. I had been kept awake one night with his mutterings, (my husband's, not the builder's), about how he could pop a liner up the chimney from inside or indeed climb up and do it from the roof. The said builder has already seen evidence of my man slithering about in awful places wearing crocs. In in fact deciding on a whim one afternoon to climb a 40 ft tree in the garden, with me feverishly grimacing underneath while I pointed at the 15 ft trampoline. My husband appearing zoo like and feral.
He used his best stern voice (the builder), a few afternoon's ago and said when the crane is here to stick the RSJ into place, as one of the first things in the new loft, he will drop a new liner down for our stove, at the same time. After that he will pop into the house and re apply all the curtain rails which have come of the wall upstairs with clumps of plaster attached.
Well with my usual ramble off the point, having sneezed my way upstairs into full allergy attack mode last night, I was then awake most of the night dealing with myself or another in the house with a migraine similar to my own. I over slept this morning, although in the half light and half awake zone was aware of banging and clashing. I had gone to bed with the curtains open. My first major shock of today was seeing somebody with virtually no teeth swing past my 1st floor bedroom window. My bolt upright appearance in bed soon brought about reality, The scaffolders were working outside at some pace and had reached my window.
I immediately went into sooth and keep the guys happy mode. I was greeted outside by pouring rain and men looking very down at the mouth at their mugs of tea. Apparently he as in husband had told them we don't have any sugar. This is new to me, I don't know what he thinks I make puddings and cakes with??? Newly made strong tea with three heaped spoons of sugar restored some sort of equilibrium to the project. Soon after I flew out with coffee and biscuits, and they were done within the hour. I did however make the connection with sugar and lack of teeth.
My two dotty and demented ancient cats, (15 and 18.5), who wish to ordinarily sleep, suddenly realized that escape must be on the cards, so my work was cut out blocking cat flaps to avoid my vivid and runaway imagination, involving six foot long planks and scaffolding poles and sad flattened felines. I then went next door to feed my neighbours cats, who were in the garage on a bench draped with blankets next to rather a beguiling and pretty camper van, I did feel an urge to elope with the cats and the van.
In the middle of the day, I literally seethed with annoyance with a migraine and end of allergy as I attempted to do something new on line, that I had had a lesson with. Having nearly kicked my lap top out of the nearest door, it then transpired that it was the website and not me. I always make things more complicated than they are, and presume my brain fog fuss is the culprit. I had coffee number three and thought before settling down to something called 'outstanding work that needs doing for the family business' ... I would play the piano, just for five minutes....
The doorbell rang, and not one, two or three, but five people dressed in black clutching briefcases with collective biscuit breath wishing to come in and sit down, and show me some nice stories that would improve my life if only I could see the light etc. A brief chat about my impending blood transfusions in time for Halloween celebrations and they were gone. As I shut the door and double bolted it, the dental surgery rang to ask if I was running late... oh dear, yes very late, blissfully unaware that I was supposed to be there. I galloped and lurched down the hill from my house, a sort of middle aged, sideways crab lady jog... and got there only ten minutes late. A very snazzy young man offered to inspect the state of play with my fangs.
Having removed his eyebrows off the consulting room ceiling, after reading my list of diseases. I was pronounced fit to go, perfect gnashers, so one good piece of news. One more thing ticked off the to do list for this week, however, note only one thing!
Tomorrow with the allergy medication cleared out of my body I shall sit down and do my finger prick test for B Horizon to find out the state of play T3 wise with my Nature Thryoid dosing, plus a few other test thrown in for good measure... if I can get that out of the way I will feel some sort of definite progress. Seeing as I have had episodes of having to self inject various medications, It surprises me that I can sense some sort of avoidance fuss with this!
I am doing well with tests currently even passing tests for diseases that sometimes throw a negative result at me.
It will be interesting doing the B. H test, I shall await the results with some intrepedation.
Keep well and less grumpy than me.