Need to Get Moving

Have decided if do not take initiative, will live in chaos forever. Two is prone to becoming prickly and argumentative when faced with possibility of Actually Doing Something. Have now been on sofa for three months at least. Need to organise a bed for self. Two and me, (or is it Two and I) haven't shared a bed for years. Am thinking twin beds. Am living in living room as it were. And getting more and more depressed. Shall seize initiative, is only way.

Two spent several minutes gazing benevolently at Cyril (the squirrel) this morning, Is besotted with his acrobatic feats. I less so. Has now gone to gym, Two that is, not squirrel. Perhaps Two hopes to emulate him. If I hang fat ball from ceiling, maybe Two will attempt to dangle upside down and eat it. Wouldn't put it past him.

Have thrown away coat which apparently makes me look like tortoise. Felt better after that.

Sunday.

Lying in bath listening to The Archers from next door. Not from Farmer in Half a Sack, but from The Lofty One and Wife, whose radio must be very close to my bathroom. Often hear The Lofty One cough, and worse, which is a bit gruesome. Am not venturing out today after debacle at petrol pump yesterday. (See earlier post). Am in fact waiting for Andy Murray to play in the Final at Queens. Two is On his Computer again. Well, so am I, but that's entirely different. Am waiting for todays Deliberate Mistake. He keeps asking which day it is, so am ever more worried is early onset of senile dementia. Also has taken to standing at window and chuckling at antics of birds. And Cyril, his not very imaginatively named squirrel friend. Time was when Two hurled plastic milk cartons at Cyril, in an effort to deter him from sneaking onto the bird table. Two has now decided that Cyril is a determined and highly intelligent rodent, and has given him free reign in the back yard. We have mountains of bird food in carrier bags littering the living room. He is out in yard now, sprinkling more nuts, seeds and God knows what onto the bird table. The birds queue up on gate waiting to get on there.

Trooping the Colour and A Nice Cuppa Tea.

Have just watched Trooping the Colour. Love it. Love the sheer spectacle, the marching, the precision, the whole thing. Never fails to bring a lump to my throat. Even sang along to The British Grenadiers. Am possibly only person in 20 mile radius who knows the words. Bit disappointed that the Spitfires didn't join the Fly Past due to bad weather. But the mighty Lancaster was there, which is such an impressive sight.

From the sublime to the bloody ridiculous. Two has just made himself  a cup of tea. He took a sip and spat it out. Transpired he'd forgotten to put the kettle on, and made it with cold water. As I have observed previously, this man is seriously beginning to worry me.

Shake, rattle and roll.

Farmer next door who regularly appears sporting half a sack around his shoulders, has been out in his tractor this morning. His imminent departure is heralded by loud clattering and shaking of the foundations, before he chunters past the window, partially obscured by large cloud of blue smoke. I shudder to think what his emissions must be. Actually, let's not go there. The other morning he pressed his weather beaten face up against window, very close to where I was reclining on sofa, and peered in, which unexpected apparition made me squeak with alarm. Transpired he needed someone to hold his ladder steady while he climbed up to clean out the gutter. Two was reluctantly pressed into service. Is actually kind of Farmer next door, as he cleans out our guttering as well. Trouble is, he attracts the attention of 'walkers' who are passing by, and engages them in quite lengthy conversations, leaning perilously sideways from his lofty perch. Following this exercise, Two complained his arm hurt and produced elastic bandage (he has a large assortment), which he then wore for 24 hours non-stop.

This morning was Pill Sorting. This exercise is highly complicated, involving as it does the myriad medications Two is taking for his various ailments. Pills of different hues are rattled out on the table and sorted. The three pill boxes, each segmented for days of the week, are filled and snapped shut like so many train doors. Two has also created a Pill Spread Sheet on computer. This, like so much else about Two, is very worrying.

Chest of Drawers or Wardrobe?

A flat-pack chest of drawers has arrived. According to the instructions, assembly should take approximately 45 minutes. Two spent all yesterday afternoon wrestling with it, and is now still wrestling, and has been for the past two hours. However the drawers are now imminent. He has it in his head is a wardrobe. This is worrying. Yesterday I was requested to hold piece of wood while he lined it up. He let go of the hefty section of wood he was holding, and it hit my legs with a considerable impact. Deliberate? The jury is still out on that one. After hopping about and swearing for a bit, I discovered I had lacerations on both legs, and bruising. There was blood.

House is in depressing state. Mess doesn't begin to describe it. Is like home of elderly person who has lost the plot. Who else has a living room strewn with cables, electrical equipment and objects that belong in a tool box. I wish Two was a flat-pack article. Would fold him up and put in cupboard.

Fishy Goings On.

Was captivated by programme on telly last night about very gifted children. One super bright little boy had a theory as to why he is so clever. He attributes it to the fact that his Mother ate sardines every day when pregnant with him. Had just consumed pilchards for my dinner, and so Pricked Up Ears. Probably won't work for me now, but was toying with idea of having a Brace of Pilchards for breakfast. Toying was as far as I got.
Two is becoming ever more absent minded. Yesterday he put tea-bags in the biscuit tin, made tea and forgot to remove tea-bag, then forgot to bring cup of tea into living room. A little later he said, 'What is that thing called with doors on, you know, where you hang your clothes'. Transpired he was groping for the word 'wardrobe'. Am getting seriously worried. Is vaguer than ever. Nearly ran into the car in front the other day, as was wittering on about something or other, (I wasn't listening',) and failed to observe car in front had braked and was signalling to turn right. Luckily I shrieked loudly as we sailed towards minor collision, and he braked.
Strange little packages keep arriving in post for him. What on earth is he ordering on-line? Think probably better I don 't know.

Two Brings Health Service to Knees

Yes, is true. This man has more medication than the Pharmacy. He is, as I speak, attending the Eye Hospital for a second visit following referral from Optician. He has also been attending a Skin Clinic for somewhat sinister blasting with ultra violet light or similar. This apparently involved stripping off, and hanging one of his socks over his droopy bits. (Shudder). Needless to say, after several sessions, The Great Itch (for which the treatment was prescribed), has returned. Inevitably, some may say. The other day, the car broke down with Two in it, and he was towed to garage. The day of the tow rope is apparently past, and a rigid steel thingy is utilised. As Two departed the garage he managed to trip over this and land face first on gravel. He arrived home with spectacular cuts and grazes adorning his face, plus a bent pair of spectacles. As I have so often pondered, is this man Safe to Be Let Out Alone?

Sleepless on sofa.

Is 6th June 2013. Have been awake since 4.15. Have decided is imperative to get myself a bed. Need a bed. Have been on sofa for 3 months. Have spent last hour reading back through blogs. Am struck by realisation that Nothing Changes. Two still displays same behavioural traits as before. Comes down at around 10.30 looking vague. Makes noise like horse. Eats large bowl of oats. Feeds birds. Fires up computer. Goes to gym, from whence he was sent home the other week, as had Funny Turn. The other day he began rootling around in the pile of paperwork he has accumulated, and then informed me that if I need the House Insurance information, it is in the pink folder labelled House Insurance Information. Is he planning to go off and find himself? Disappear in puff of Movicol? There are still countless boxes of same piled up in corner of room. He is still maintaining his lifelong relationship with TCP, and frequently comes into room reeking of same. Can hear faint whimpering from upstairs now. Shall not investigate. Can hear bed creaking. Is nearly 6 am now. May have little snooze.

Have poured self glass of pink. Am finding it helps. Need to cull wardrobe considerably. Likewise shoes. Am unbelievably over-subscribed on both counts. Have also realised with sinking heart, will probably never dance again. Which is sad, because me and Three used to rock'n'roll around kitchen in gay abandon, fuelled by much pink wine. Was fun. Am also now not welcome in pub. Haven't ventured in there, but have strong suspicion will be tarred and feathered if attempt it. Barmaid never liked me in first place, in fact was extremely hostile the last time I went in with Three. She is a lot bigger than me too. Anybody new to my blog, will not realise I refer to husband as Two, (being husband number two), and my new love as Three. Just makes things easier for quick blogging. And no names, serves to achieve anonymity. I hope. Think may Take the Veil and become Nun. Or Hippy. Ah, hippy sounds good. Shall become spiritual person and waft about in flowing garments. Shall write moving poems about Life. Join commune and Get in Touch With Inner Self. On second thoughts, probably bad idea. If Get in Touch with Inner Self will probably collapse in small heap.

Back again, in a manner of speaking.

Am back. Me and Three are no longer an item. Still friends though, which is good. Has been traumatic time, and cannot bring self to bare soul at moment. Is too soon. So, am back at house with Two. House is in state of chaos, which is roughly in keeping with my state of mind. Have been prone on sofa for some considerable time. Am in fact, sleeping on sofa, which at my advanced age is not entirely desirable. My possessions, which are creeping back here, are scattered over a wide area. There is no space. Am glum. Reading back over all my previous posts, realise that humour is the only way to deal with life. Since my return, Two has had operation on throat, which turned out to be okay, lesion was benign. Which is good news. I spent entire day at hospital, and read Pride and Prejudice in its entirety, twice. I became a notable fixture on chair outside ward. People became concerned. A kindly Consultant tut tutted at my dilemma, and organised a Nice Cup of Tea. I think he was on the point of admitting me to the Geriatric Ward. Finally, Two was released and we began the drive home, through heavy traffic. As we sat in queue for roundabout, Two was suddenly violently sick out of the window. This happened several times as I attempted to negotiate unknown route. He couldn't speak because of operation, and my requests for directions were met with faint incomprehensible squeaks. Eventually, and God knows how, I found the right road, and we sailed home covered in puke. (He didn't make the window a couple of times).