(From yesterday)
Leaving with a bang not a whimper, I'm now on donkey sized painkillers (no pink elephants yet, but I'm hoping!) and Stephen has promised faithfully to pack his suitcase tonight.
We only leave after lunch tomorrow, where's the rush ? ! ! !
(Now read on dear reader)
So, the toilet paper lasted and the teabags.
The worker managed a tiny bowl of cereal this morning with the last of the milk without having to "borrow" some from the restaurant!
Buying in just enough is a fine art probably learned at the finely tuned purse strings of Mother!
As I relaid my 'tiding over' shopping list to Caroline; 6 rashers of back bacon from the counter, not prepacked; 6 large free range Cheshire Farm eggs; a large Morrison's medium loaf for your Dad and a small medium Hovis for me, she suddenly laughed.
"This is just like a shopping list from Granny!
You're getting old Mum !"
Morphing into Mum is fine by me.
She knew just how far five shillings went!
At last ! I'm becoming a savvy shapper !
Things are looking up Stephen!
As we wait for the one o'clock hooter to metaphorically sound for Stephen's final release (I used to love watching the workers from Fibreglass, straining at the gates, until the lunch time hooter sounded and the gates sprang open and the men and women we're off !) I'm awarding a mental bouquet of thanks.
Thank you for keeping me company over the past three months.
The humour, friendship and nuggets of information have kept me from going round the bend !
It's been as good as a cup of tea, a McVitea's digestive and a natter in the homes of friends and family !
My favourite past time.
Till the next time . . .
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Aaaarrgh ! ! NO PAPER ! ! !
I've been a trifle too efficient and cleared out all the paper.
Yes Stephen you were right!
Apart from betting on the flies on the window, what else am i finding to do ? !
So this piece, that just HAD to be written, is appearing free form !
I am a pessimistic person and throw in a bit of pain; facing the thought of cancelling our scheduled family visits and Stephen pondering upon a job somewhere near Bahrain my spirits had plummeted today.
Looking to inch them up, I went looking for Elaine Page.
She has a great Sunday afternoon programme on radio 2 featuring showtunes and everything Broadway.
Brilliant for driving home to, eh Pol ? !
I was too early but lucky me was just in time to catch Michael Ball and his guest . . .
Gasp . . .
Gareth Malone ! ! ! YAY ! !
I love Gareth Malone ! !
I never did understand Marion Appleton's passion for Elvis.
I didn't really get the Beatles!
I liked them but that was it. A club I wasn't a member of.
Then I found Gareth Malone and became a groupie overnight!
He is that smart looking posh lad who took a boy's secondary school and persuaded some of them, tough knocks many of them, to sing as a choir and enter a choir competion in China of all places !
He also formed a choir wth the community of South Oxley. All of them !
I think their trophy moment was appearing at the Albert Hall singing 'Walking on Sunshine'.
So this was a reality television show (the only one worth watching; I think) about a young chap with virve and vigour for music in all its many forms, tackling an unlikely band of people and producing harmony on a grandish scale.
It worked !
Go check out Youtube. Just type in The Choir.
Today I discovered Gareth is, big gulp. . .
a composer, choir master, singer, pianist and outreach worker, taking music into schools, oap homes etc., with a passion.
He has also picked up two baftas along the way, whilst still in his early thirties !
I think his secret is doing what he loves and believing in people and passing his passion along.
He is a very lucky lad to have so many options to choose from.
The Choir is a brilliant project that should be attempted everywhere !
I was worried that I had flat-lined !
My music mojo is still there !
I've had a good bop around the room to Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen, singing my head off, ouch!, sounding like Jim Royle !
It must be the Mersey sound !
I remember now the fun of singing, the getting it right and cracking it !
The feeling of community with a bunch of people I scarcely know and also of developing another facet to my identity.
He's introduced me to a band called Fleet Foxes and a song White winter Hymnal.
Lovely !
Do yourselves a favour;
GET INVOLVED IN MUSIC !
EXCELLENT ! ! !
Yes Stephen you were right!
Apart from betting on the flies on the window, what else am i finding to do ? !
So this piece, that just HAD to be written, is appearing free form !
I am a pessimistic person and throw in a bit of pain; facing the thought of cancelling our scheduled family visits and Stephen pondering upon a job somewhere near Bahrain my spirits had plummeted today.
Looking to inch them up, I went looking for Elaine Page.
She has a great Sunday afternoon programme on radio 2 featuring showtunes and everything Broadway.
Brilliant for driving home to, eh Pol ? !
I was too early but lucky me was just in time to catch Michael Ball and his guest . . .
Gasp . . .
Gareth Malone ! ! ! YAY ! !
I love Gareth Malone ! !
I never did understand Marion Appleton's passion for Elvis.
I didn't really get the Beatles!
I liked them but that was it. A club I wasn't a member of.
Then I found Gareth Malone and became a groupie overnight!
He is that smart looking posh lad who took a boy's secondary school and persuaded some of them, tough knocks many of them, to sing as a choir and enter a choir competion in China of all places !
He also formed a choir wth the community of South Oxley. All of them !
I think their trophy moment was appearing at the Albert Hall singing 'Walking on Sunshine'.
So this was a reality television show (the only one worth watching; I think) about a young chap with virve and vigour for music in all its many forms, tackling an unlikely band of people and producing harmony on a grandish scale.
It worked !
Go check out Youtube. Just type in The Choir.
Today I discovered Gareth is, big gulp. . .
a composer, choir master, singer, pianist and outreach worker, taking music into schools, oap homes etc., with a passion.
He has also picked up two baftas along the way, whilst still in his early thirties !
I think his secret is doing what he loves and believing in people and passing his passion along.
He is a very lucky lad to have so many options to choose from.
The Choir is a brilliant project that should be attempted everywhere !
I was worried that I had flat-lined !
My music mojo is still there !
I've had a good bop around the room to Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen, singing my head off, ouch!, sounding like Jim Royle !
It must be the Mersey sound !
I remember now the fun of singing, the getting it right and cracking it !
The feeling of community with a bunch of people I scarcely know and also of developing another facet to my identity.
He's introduced me to a band called Fleet Foxes and a song White winter Hymnal.
Lovely !
Do yourselves a favour;
GET INVOLVED IN MUSIC !
EXCELLENT ! ! !
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
My music.
I love my Ipod and also my little mp3 music player which can also give me the Archers and Afternoon Play.
It can also give me Woman's Hour with 'sympathetic voiced' Jenny Murray - but she then gives me hives !
With these pocket sized machines I'm able to hear my music in my head as opposed to in the background of life around me.
It's like switching on Blackpool Iluminations in my eight year old head.
Magic ! as Dave, 'our Denise's' husband would say.
This is what I hear . . .
'Lily the Pink' from The Scaffold makes me smile every time. It's a simple little ditty that lifts my spirits.
'By the sleepy lagoon' is the theme tune to radio 4's Desert Island Discs.
The gentle sound of the waves lapping in and out insantly transport me back to 1963, where it's the weekend, no school and being surrounded by family and feeling satisfied after another of Mum's delicious meals.
It's a safe harbour from the barbs I felt outside.
I've never had much of a thick skin.
'Ride of the Valkyries'. This was my mobile phone ringtone for years.
It denoted me.
I remember hysterically laughing as it suddenly rang forth from my bag on the coat hook in Mum's hospital room, where everything felt like some frightening nightmare.
I did subconsciously feel as if I was riding forth to fight evil.
Intermezzo from 'Cavalleria Rusticana.'
From the first note, peace just floods mind and body.
A good relaxant.
'Elizabethan Serenade'.
Now I am whisked back to 1965, as a schoolgirl in full uniform; tie, shirt, etc.,
My pleated skirt was folded over at the waist for 5 years !
Definite money's worth
Anyway, Miss Ashton, our musc teacher, never did tap me on the knee for entrance to the school choir but I think I snuck in anyway.
I loved this song about the gentle Avon flowing and the casement curtain fluttering and blowing by candlelight (health and safety? pah !)
Answer came there none - a sad and peaceful song.
I can't get enough piano concerto's !
I play along with it, wiggling my fingers over the imaginary keyboard - note perfect - with all the delicacy and force of Paderevsky.
If I could tickle the ivories as effortlessly and enjoyably as my Mum did for the majority of her life, I'd be in 7th heaven.
Sometime in the '80's she began picking up where her music lessons were abruptly left off as a youngster.
She even had organ lessons by an organist at Liverpool's Christ the King cathedral to improve her playing at St.Patrick's church.
The keyboard was a constant source of pleasure throughout her life.
I should be so lucky !
At some point I must sit down and discover the real meaning to all these pieces and get double the pleasure ! !
I don't know my music but I know what I like, it just feels right.
It's like putting the wrong grade oil into an engine.
The wrong type of music just shouldn't be in my head.
There probably is just as much justification for Meathead or Madonna, Elton or Elvis Costeloe (although I do like him but I couldn't think of anyone I didn't like beginning with an E) but it just jars in my head.
So, pop-pickers ! What spins your wheels ?
It can also give me Woman's Hour with 'sympathetic voiced' Jenny Murray - but she then gives me hives !
With these pocket sized machines I'm able to hear my music in my head as opposed to in the background of life around me.
It's like switching on Blackpool Iluminations in my eight year old head.
Magic ! as Dave, 'our Denise's' husband would say.
This is what I hear . . .
'Lily the Pink' from The Scaffold makes me smile every time. It's a simple little ditty that lifts my spirits.
'By the sleepy lagoon' is the theme tune to radio 4's Desert Island Discs.
The gentle sound of the waves lapping in and out insantly transport me back to 1963, where it's the weekend, no school and being surrounded by family and feeling satisfied after another of Mum's delicious meals.
It's a safe harbour from the barbs I felt outside.
I've never had much of a thick skin.
'Ride of the Valkyries'. This was my mobile phone ringtone for years.
It denoted me.
I remember hysterically laughing as it suddenly rang forth from my bag on the coat hook in Mum's hospital room, where everything felt like some frightening nightmare.
I did subconsciously feel as if I was riding forth to fight evil.
Intermezzo from 'Cavalleria Rusticana.'
From the first note, peace just floods mind and body.
A good relaxant.
'Elizabethan Serenade'.
Now I am whisked back to 1965, as a schoolgirl in full uniform; tie, shirt, etc.,
My pleated skirt was folded over at the waist for 5 years !
Definite money's worth
Anyway, Miss Ashton, our musc teacher, never did tap me on the knee for entrance to the school choir but I think I snuck in anyway.
I loved this song about the gentle Avon flowing and the casement curtain fluttering and blowing by candlelight (health and safety? pah !)
Answer came there none - a sad and peaceful song.
I can't get enough piano concerto's !
I play along with it, wiggling my fingers over the imaginary keyboard - note perfect - with all the delicacy and force of Paderevsky.
If I could tickle the ivories as effortlessly and enjoyably as my Mum did for the majority of her life, I'd be in 7th heaven.
Sometime in the '80's she began picking up where her music lessons were abruptly left off as a youngster.
She even had organ lessons by an organist at Liverpool's Christ the King cathedral to improve her playing at St.Patrick's church.
The keyboard was a constant source of pleasure throughout her life.
I should be so lucky !
At some point I must sit down and discover the real meaning to all these pieces and get double the pleasure ! !
I don't know my music but I know what I like, it just feels right.
It's like putting the wrong grade oil into an engine.
The wrong type of music just shouldn't be in my head.
There probably is just as much justification for Meathead or Madonna, Elton or Elvis Costeloe (although I do like him but I couldn't think of anyone I didn't like beginning with an E) but it just jars in my head.
So, pop-pickers ! What spins your wheels ?
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Addendum
How could I forget Stephen's guitar!
Way back in '94 his best birthday present accompanied him to Dubai, then home for a spell and then out to Saudi in '96.
He has always strummed and crooned, playing along to Don Williams' 'Tulsar Time' or Rod Stewarts' 'Hot Legs' amongst others.
Definately going - after all this is a signed model! On my last visit Stephen got me to sign this guitar/
Naff ? Yuk ?
Yes kids but that's Mum and Dad.
Finally, we've packed his frying pan.
I'm sure Lucy for one can relate to Stephen's attachement to the pan that gives him the perfect egg!
Way back in '94 his best birthday present accompanied him to Dubai, then home for a spell and then out to Saudi in '96.
He has always strummed and crooned, playing along to Don Williams' 'Tulsar Time' or Rod Stewarts' 'Hot Legs' amongst others.
Definately going - after all this is a signed model! On my last visit Stephen got me to sign this guitar/
Naff ? Yuk ?
Yes kids but that's Mum and Dad.
Finally, we've packed his frying pan.
I'm sure Lucy for one can relate to Stephen's attachement to the pan that gives him the perfect egg!
Closing down sale - Must everything go ?
We're now in the throws of packing.
Seven boxes and hopefully we've stopped counting.
It isn't all Anxiety Central though.
Last night was spent watching a family video.
We sat and couch potatoe'd through the extended family get together just after Mum's funeral (not as bizarre as it sounds);
a very expectant Caroline waiting excitedly to become a Mum:
Nathan's first few hours and the dizzyness he must have experienced as he was passed from Dad to Grandparents to Uncle to Aunty, poor lad:
my Dad in his last few years looking lost and tiny inside his many jackets;
our dog Ben as he too, slowed down, my bestest friend as children left and parents died;
Nathan learning to walk, talk and become cock-o'-the walk.
Obviously going.
Stephen's golf trophies?
Golf has been his Saudi past time and judging from the trophy cabinet he must be good at it and enjoyed it.
However with the onset of creaking knees and back the enthusiasm has waned.
His philosophy now is, ''Yes, I've enjoyed the game and the celebrations but I don't really need the prizes anymore''.
(The upside to this has been his being able to donate a cracking coffee machine to the final tournament!)
Not going.
His photos of himself lined up with team mates and enjoying the many celebrations with pals often in fancy dress, are coming home.
Good times!
The Filipinno chaps who work with Stephen get an annual leave home.
They brought him presents back each time; t-shirts, pictures, quirky metal figures but we've narrowed it down to an intriguing two foot wall carving that holds twelve figureheads whose bodies end in either a fork or spoon.
No small thing to cart all this way!
Stephen's myriad of computer and recording equipment is finally being boxed tonight.
The electrical cables alone will fill a box!
A very important box is his manuals and files regarding piping engineering which we fervently hope will be in use again soon after Christmas.
For those who know Stephen, know he has morphed over the years.
We now get more Shack to the buck!
Many clothes - not going.
His beloved 'Green Bessie' went way back in July.
She had faithfully got him from point A to point B with all his favourite music for many years.
He salutes her as he passes her on the supermarket run now.
His garden is now the best on site!
He has nurtured the indiginous trees and shrubs and tended the marigolds and other flowers from seeds brought from home.
His evening watering routine, I think must be the perfect wind down to the day as dusk closes in within the hour and the million birds excitedly and noisily land and take off from tree to tree before finally settling in for the night and one last poop all over the path!
His bench was sited perfectly 'neath the shade of the trees and waited to give him the opportunity to survey his family of blues and greens and purples and oranges.
Sadly, not going.
Once deserted, the villa will have it's garden stripped of flowers to be replaced with gravel or paving and await the next occupiers of the site.
Seven boxes and hopefully we've stopped counting.
It isn't all Anxiety Central though.
Last night was spent watching a family video.
We sat and couch potatoe'd through the extended family get together just after Mum's funeral (not as bizarre as it sounds);
a very expectant Caroline waiting excitedly to become a Mum:
Nathan's first few hours and the dizzyness he must have experienced as he was passed from Dad to Grandparents to Uncle to Aunty, poor lad:
my Dad in his last few years looking lost and tiny inside his many jackets;
our dog Ben as he too, slowed down, my bestest friend as children left and parents died;
Nathan learning to walk, talk and become cock-o'-the walk.
Obviously going.
Stephen's golf trophies?
Golf has been his Saudi past time and judging from the trophy cabinet he must be good at it and enjoyed it.
However with the onset of creaking knees and back the enthusiasm has waned.
His philosophy now is, ''Yes, I've enjoyed the game and the celebrations but I don't really need the prizes anymore''.
(The upside to this has been his being able to donate a cracking coffee machine to the final tournament!)
Not going.
His photos of himself lined up with team mates and enjoying the many celebrations with pals often in fancy dress, are coming home.
Good times!
The Filipinno chaps who work with Stephen get an annual leave home.
They brought him presents back each time; t-shirts, pictures, quirky metal figures but we've narrowed it down to an intriguing two foot wall carving that holds twelve figureheads whose bodies end in either a fork or spoon.
No small thing to cart all this way!
Stephen's myriad of computer and recording equipment is finally being boxed tonight.
The electrical cables alone will fill a box!
A very important box is his manuals and files regarding piping engineering which we fervently hope will be in use again soon after Christmas.
For those who know Stephen, know he has morphed over the years.
We now get more Shack to the buck!
Many clothes - not going.
His beloved 'Green Bessie' went way back in July.
She had faithfully got him from point A to point B with all his favourite music for many years.
He salutes her as he passes her on the supermarket run now.
His garden is now the best on site!
He has nurtured the indiginous trees and shrubs and tended the marigolds and other flowers from seeds brought from home.
His evening watering routine, I think must be the perfect wind down to the day as dusk closes in within the hour and the million birds excitedly and noisily land and take off from tree to tree before finally settling in for the night and one last poop all over the path!
His bench was sited perfectly 'neath the shade of the trees and waited to give him the opportunity to survey his family of blues and greens and purples and oranges.
Sadly, not going.
Once deserted, the villa will have it's garden stripped of flowers to be replaced with gravel or paving and await the next occupiers of the site.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Bit of a lazy blog.
So I was strolling through the ethernet tonight and came across www/almostfrugal.com
A pretty interesting blog and one thing led to another, which seems to be the way of navigation around here and I came up with these sites to save money at.
VoucherCodes.co.uk
Time Out restaurant guide
Lovetheatre promotional code - look for VoucherCodes.co.uk
Pizza Hut vouchers
Money Saving Expert - Martin Lewis searches for good deals.
Another good tip is to have a hot flush ! It saves on the heating !
A pretty interesting blog and one thing led to another, which seems to be the way of navigation around here and I came up with these sites to save money at.
VoucherCodes.co.uk
Time Out restaurant guide
Lovetheatre promotional code - look for VoucherCodes.co.uk
Pizza Hut vouchers
Money Saving Expert - Martin Lewis searches for good deals.
Another good tip is to have a hot flush ! It saves on the heating !
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
In my wildest dreams.
Tuesday. Jun's day. Yes, Stephen, busting out all over ! Sigh !
I usually clear the decks for Jun, prior to his coming. I figure if I tidy away, that makes his job more efficient, or something like that.
Anyhoo, yes, you know what's coming. The neck. Eratic sleeping pattern left me slightly frayed around the edges and not very bright this morning. So I forgot some of my tidying routine.
I've just got back now and I love walking through the house, opening doors on clean and tidy rooms and smelling the lemon stuff he uses. We haven't really spread out much here and what with the tiled floors it's fairly straight forward to zip through.
I sleep with a few personal items under my pillow.
I have a pair of Matthew's underpants next to a green/grey babygrow of Thomas's and a really cleverly designed red fleece scarf that has white maple leaves printed all over and the two ends are hands with fingers! I can wrap it around myself and give me a hug ! How clever is that?! One of the bestest pressies ever, Jenn !
So I have my long distance family all there each night to be close to. I'm probably going to need to space it out more to under Stephen's pillow when Jezebel arrives!
Yep! Today I forgot to remove them. I usually put them in the wardrobe first thing Tuesday morning, figuring no one else will understand. By the way, the undies and babygrow were items I managed to squirrel away when M, J, and T left our house last August after our holiday.
As I opened the bedroom door just, I spotted them carefully folded on the dressing table, bed changed and ready to jump into.
What on earth must he think?
Daft English?!
So does anyone else have something very important in their beds?!
Remember, this goes out before the watershed !
I usually clear the decks for Jun, prior to his coming. I figure if I tidy away, that makes his job more efficient, or something like that.
Anyhoo, yes, you know what's coming. The neck. Eratic sleeping pattern left me slightly frayed around the edges and not very bright this morning. So I forgot some of my tidying routine.
I've just got back now and I love walking through the house, opening doors on clean and tidy rooms and smelling the lemon stuff he uses. We haven't really spread out much here and what with the tiled floors it's fairly straight forward to zip through.
I sleep with a few personal items under my pillow.
I have a pair of Matthew's underpants next to a green/grey babygrow of Thomas's and a really cleverly designed red fleece scarf that has white maple leaves printed all over and the two ends are hands with fingers! I can wrap it around myself and give me a hug ! How clever is that?! One of the bestest pressies ever, Jenn !
So I have my long distance family all there each night to be close to. I'm probably going to need to space it out more to under Stephen's pillow when Jezebel arrives!
Yep! Today I forgot to remove them. I usually put them in the wardrobe first thing Tuesday morning, figuring no one else will understand. By the way, the undies and babygrow were items I managed to squirrel away when M, J, and T left our house last August after our holiday.
As I opened the bedroom door just, I spotted them carefully folded on the dressing table, bed changed and ready to jump into.
What on earth must he think?
Daft English?!
So does anyone else have something very important in their beds?!
Remember, this goes out before the watershed !
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Light, of a sort, at the end of the tunnel.
So the shoulder thing got the better of me the other night and Stephen and I were whisked off to the hospital in Buraydah just after lunch.
I had asked to be put down but this was the next best option. Nila the ambulance driver took us in a car very speedily, he makes three or four trips there daily !
So in under the hour we were being presented to two lovely Fillipino nurses at the desk with Nila giving them my history.
The Dr. Sulaiman Al Habib hospital looked new, clean and empty. Good so far.
The lovely nurses produced a wheelchair and whisked me off to a cubicle where they immediately hooked me up to an ecg machine, blood pressure and bloods taken. All this with my abaya still on!
The cubicle curtains were kept tightly drawn at all times and shouts of, 'Male or Female?', 'Female doc'. were parried back and forth between the nurses working on me and the doctor waiting to see me. I was then asked if I was happy for the doctor to come in, still modestly covered in my abaya!
The doctor came and had a chat with me and was happy to discover that I wasn't about to have a heart attack. An incredulity attack but no heart attack.
He then ordered for me to be taken for an x-ray! I was given an injection for the pain to be going on with. Lovely nurse number one said, as she was administering it, you habe a lubbely bum ! All white ! Maybe this was her relaxation technique! It certainly made me laugh.
Then a tiny slip of a thing had to push me to x-ray and back poor thing. Stephen was allowed in to the cubicle again with me while they waited for results. I was hooked up to a wonder of modern technology or a job stealer, depending which side of the union line you stood. It automatically took my blood pressure every five minutes without the aid of any human !
Doctor Stephen was trying to relax me with his fountain of medical knowledge. 'These machines are notoriously inaccurate!' Which cracked me up but I was feeling rather shamefaced with all this attention just for a trapped nerve ! Especially when we could hear sounds in the next cubicle of acute pain and vomiting.
Unbelievably, I had had all this treatment, a diagnosis and medication bought within an hour of entering the hospital ! I'm still wondering, wide-eyed at this as I type it ! Was it a dream? The pain tells me, no!
So back home again, the diagnosis was cervical spondylosis and I was prescribed yet more tabs to replace the previous lots and a neck brace to prevent my head from stressing my spine.
I'd love to be able to say they're working and I had a good nights sleep but as you can see . . . !
I tell you what does work though ! Two lovely skypes! The first with Nathan and Aidan were Caroline just left the laptop on the floor of the playroom and I 'sat' with the boys as they built Lego crafts and discussed them with me.
Then the second unexpected one, as they were due to be away at the cottage, with Matthew and Jenn and birthday boy Thomas, two today ! We were there as he opened his pressies and cards ! All done without leaving go of his birthday digger balloon ! He luuurves his balloons !
Thank you Caroline and thank you Maff and Jenn, it was just what the doctor ordered!
Anyroadup, I have a physio appointment booked for the afternoon of our arriving home and I have every faith they will work wonders. Just like a Double Diamond !
p.s. Jennifer's Aunt Sandra, her Stepmum Linda's sister, was rushed into hospital with terrible complications to do with gall stones! She is in intensive care in hospital in London, which I think is not far from their home and is in an induced coma. Hence the birthday/Thanksgiving Day cottage weekend being cancelled.
Please keep her in your prayers!
I had asked to be put down but this was the next best option. Nila the ambulance driver took us in a car very speedily, he makes three or four trips there daily !
So in under the hour we were being presented to two lovely Fillipino nurses at the desk with Nila giving them my history.
The Dr. Sulaiman Al Habib hospital looked new, clean and empty. Good so far.
The lovely nurses produced a wheelchair and whisked me off to a cubicle where they immediately hooked me up to an ecg machine, blood pressure and bloods taken. All this with my abaya still on!
The cubicle curtains were kept tightly drawn at all times and shouts of, 'Male or Female?', 'Female doc'. were parried back and forth between the nurses working on me and the doctor waiting to see me. I was then asked if I was happy for the doctor to come in, still modestly covered in my abaya!
The doctor came and had a chat with me and was happy to discover that I wasn't about to have a heart attack. An incredulity attack but no heart attack.
He then ordered for me to be taken for an x-ray! I was given an injection for the pain to be going on with. Lovely nurse number one said, as she was administering it, you habe a lubbely bum ! All white ! Maybe this was her relaxation technique! It certainly made me laugh.
Then a tiny slip of a thing had to push me to x-ray and back poor thing. Stephen was allowed in to the cubicle again with me while they waited for results. I was hooked up to a wonder of modern technology or a job stealer, depending which side of the union line you stood. It automatically took my blood pressure every five minutes without the aid of any human !
Doctor Stephen was trying to relax me with his fountain of medical knowledge. 'These machines are notoriously inaccurate!' Which cracked me up but I was feeling rather shamefaced with all this attention just for a trapped nerve ! Especially when we could hear sounds in the next cubicle of acute pain and vomiting.
Unbelievably, I had had all this treatment, a diagnosis and medication bought within an hour of entering the hospital ! I'm still wondering, wide-eyed at this as I type it ! Was it a dream? The pain tells me, no!
So back home again, the diagnosis was cervical spondylosis and I was prescribed yet more tabs to replace the previous lots and a neck brace to prevent my head from stressing my spine.
I'd love to be able to say they're working and I had a good nights sleep but as you can see . . . !
I tell you what does work though ! Two lovely skypes! The first with Nathan and Aidan were Caroline just left the laptop on the floor of the playroom and I 'sat' with the boys as they built Lego crafts and discussed them with me.
Then the second unexpected one, as they were due to be away at the cottage, with Matthew and Jenn and birthday boy Thomas, two today ! We were there as he opened his pressies and cards ! All done without leaving go of his birthday digger balloon ! He luuurves his balloons !
Thank you Caroline and thank you Maff and Jenn, it was just what the doctor ordered!
Anyroadup, I have a physio appointment booked for the afternoon of our arriving home and I have every faith they will work wonders. Just like a Double Diamond !
p.s. Jennifer's Aunt Sandra, her Stepmum Linda's sister, was rushed into hospital with terrible complications to do with gall stones! She is in intensive care in hospital in London, which I think is not far from their home and is in an induced coma. Hence the birthday/Thanksgiving Day cottage weekend being cancelled.
Please keep her in your prayers!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
On a sombre note.
Having lived with this shoulder over the past few weeks (you should try living without it ! I can hear Groucho exclaiming in my head) it has given me another perspective on life.
We take life so lightly and maybe we should.
Striding confidently along not expecting any trips and falls along the way we break new ground, or exceed our potential or push the boundaries.
We accomplish, achieve, surpass our goals and targets.
It's all so effortless once we knuckle down to it and put our shoulder to the wheel, our best foot forward.
The next level and the next are now achievable, within our sights.
We move forward and upward relentlessly through walking, talking, feeding, reading, writing, socialising to notching many new subjects on our belt.
All done with hindsight, fairly effortlessly.
Effortless. Without effort.
What of the folk who do have to put effort in to achieve these same goals?
I now have a new admiration for family members who have kept going forward despite ailments or injuries, physical or emotional.
Have I accorded them the understanding of their determination to get on, move forward, achieve their daily goals?
Is this to do with stopping and smelling the roses?
Am I on a roll, too caught up with self to stop and pass the time of day with my neighbour?
Has it really taken an ailment to make me slow down and open my eyes to those around me? !
We are all so clever with our achievements and attainments that we allow qualities like understanding, listening, caring, to slip away.
My Mum cleaned her front path before going in to hospital to die with cancer three weeks later.
For the past nine years I have never been able to understand why or how she did it.
I think I now know she was conquering her pain in her inimitable, hard working manner.
If only I'd stopped to try to understand her. Nine years too late.
We take life so lightly and maybe we should.
Striding confidently along not expecting any trips and falls along the way we break new ground, or exceed our potential or push the boundaries.
We accomplish, achieve, surpass our goals and targets.
It's all so effortless once we knuckle down to it and put our shoulder to the wheel, our best foot forward.
The next level and the next are now achievable, within our sights.
We move forward and upward relentlessly through walking, talking, feeding, reading, writing, socialising to notching many new subjects on our belt.
All done with hindsight, fairly effortlessly.
Effortless. Without effort.
What of the folk who do have to put effort in to achieve these same goals?
I now have a new admiration for family members who have kept going forward despite ailments or injuries, physical or emotional.
Have I accorded them the understanding of their determination to get on, move forward, achieve their daily goals?
Is this to do with stopping and smelling the roses?
Am I on a roll, too caught up with self to stop and pass the time of day with my neighbour?
Has it really taken an ailment to make me slow down and open my eyes to those around me? !
We are all so clever with our achievements and attainments that we allow qualities like understanding, listening, caring, to slip away.
My Mum cleaned her front path before going in to hospital to die with cancer three weeks later.
For the past nine years I have never been able to understand why or how she did it.
I think I now know she was conquering her pain in her inimitable, hard working manner.
If only I'd stopped to try to understand her. Nine years too late.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Jenn !
Check out this site.
Riverford.co.uk
There's quite a few recipes for beetroot, didn't check the carrot, just assumed there'd be lots.
I really fancy a chocolate and beetroot cake !
How about healthy juices ? !
What about using some for colouring material ? !
I also fancy Jamie's recipe for mashed potatoe with sweetcorn !
I can't wait to get back and down to a farm I've found in Ormskirk and drool over the fruit, veg and meat !
Don't let Matthew see the Riverford video at the beginning ! ! !
Stick some beetroot and chocolate biscuit dough in the freezer for our next trip, please !
Oh, and a carrot cake ! To die for, doll !
Riverford.co.uk
There's quite a few recipes for beetroot, didn't check the carrot, just assumed there'd be lots.
I really fancy a chocolate and beetroot cake !
How about healthy juices ? !
What about using some for colouring material ? !
I also fancy Jamie's recipe for mashed potatoe with sweetcorn !
I can't wait to get back and down to a farm I've found in Ormskirk and drool over the fruit, veg and meat !
Don't let Matthew see the Riverford video at the beginning ! ! !
Stick some beetroot and chocolate biscuit dough in the freezer for our next trip, please !
Oh, and a carrot cake ! To die for, doll !
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
What's in a name? !
I'm here in Saudi for Stephen's last month now.
Yes ! 22 days and counting ! !
Consequently everything Saudi must be used up.
I'm really wracking my brains to come up with tasty dishes from sardines, tuna, corned beef, baked beans (they're half water/half sauce here !), sweetcorn, garlic, chickpeas, couscous, eggs and bread.
Any suggestions welcome.
I think we're both bored to tears with my fairy flat cakes !
We had our last Riyadh shopping trip last weekend to use up the funny money.
Travellers should ALWAYS return with interesting bulges in suitcases !
Stephen is a Dixon's groupy.
So each evening is a film fest with all the dvd's he's amassed at airports, coming and going over the years.
NO, they're not coming home, they're that good . . . !
In order to save the credit on my phone I've been using one of Stephen's which has Saudi credit on it. Did I say he was a Dixon's junkie ? !
Today I tried texting him. I've never done it before as I'm usually at home by the house phone.
Today is Tuesday, June is busting out all over at ours, as Stephen cracks, week in, week out.
Cursing down ?! to find Stephen's number I scroll through Babes, Bo, Jun, Rune, Samantha and the wonderful Willy Wong !
I actually have Napolean's number here ! Could I be his Josephine ? !
What we have here folks are Phillipine, Swedish and many countries in between workmates.
Trust me, I've checked them all out.
Why can't Samantha be a boy's name, or Jun? Not crazy about Babes, which is short for Baby Lin, just as bad.
What I'm announcing here in a very long winded way is . . . .
the birth next April, God willing, of grandchild no.4 to Matthew and Jennifer !
Keeping schtumn the past couple of weeks has been murder and to pass the time I've been compiling a list of names for them to peruse.
Please feel free to add any favourites you may have, or indeed, warn them off any hideous mistakes awaiting them.
p.s. What were Willy's parents thinking ? !
p.p.s. List to follow as soon as Stephen has retrieved it from where I put it safely.
Yes ! 22 days and counting ! !
Consequently everything Saudi must be used up.
I'm really wracking my brains to come up with tasty dishes from sardines, tuna, corned beef, baked beans (they're half water/half sauce here !), sweetcorn, garlic, chickpeas, couscous, eggs and bread.
Any suggestions welcome.
I think we're both bored to tears with my fairy flat cakes !
We had our last Riyadh shopping trip last weekend to use up the funny money.
Travellers should ALWAYS return with interesting bulges in suitcases !
Stephen is a Dixon's groupy.
So each evening is a film fest with all the dvd's he's amassed at airports, coming and going over the years.
NO, they're not coming home, they're that good . . . !
In order to save the credit on my phone I've been using one of Stephen's which has Saudi credit on it. Did I say he was a Dixon's junkie ? !
Today I tried texting him. I've never done it before as I'm usually at home by the house phone.
Today is Tuesday, June is busting out all over at ours, as Stephen cracks, week in, week out.
Cursing down ?! to find Stephen's number I scroll through Babes, Bo, Jun, Rune, Samantha and the wonderful Willy Wong !
I actually have Napolean's number here ! Could I be his Josephine ? !
What we have here folks are Phillipine, Swedish and many countries in between workmates.
Trust me, I've checked them all out.
Why can't Samantha be a boy's name, or Jun? Not crazy about Babes, which is short for Baby Lin, just as bad.
What I'm announcing here in a very long winded way is . . . .
the birth next April, God willing, of grandchild no.4 to Matthew and Jennifer !
Keeping schtumn the past couple of weeks has been murder and to pass the time I've been compiling a list of names for them to peruse.
Please feel free to add any favourites you may have, or indeed, warn them off any hideous mistakes awaiting them.
p.s. What were Willy's parents thinking ? !
p.p.s. List to follow as soon as Stephen has retrieved it from where I put it safely.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Still simmering.
Yes, sorry folks, the bee is still under my bonnet.
Not quite the 'he didn't say', phone routine, here on this blog., www.saudiwoman.wordpress.com relates to the freedom of women here. The blog entry explains the video.
Not quite the 'he didn't say', phone routine, here on this blog., www.saudiwoman.wordpress.com relates to the freedom of women here. The blog entry explains the video.
Postscript.
Note to everyone ! Always carry paper and pen !
I've just found more scribblings in the margins of the crossword puzzler (thanks Poll, nearly finished !)
I had entered the malls with my scarf hanging around my neck ready to pull up if need be. I clocked everyone as I strolled, looking for other bared heads. There were other females shopping even without the scarf at the ready, I felt ok.
As we finished up our trip we mmmmmmmmmmm . . . I said we bought doughnuts ! !
We were queueing for our health conscious fruit juices, he a Barbados Islander and I a Wicked Berry when Stephen nudged me. He had noticed a man in pristine white with a beautiful floaty black scarf and a rather striking goatee. The 'holy man' had very quietly asked me to pull my veil up as he slipped through the crowds. I automatically did it, turning to see who, what, where.
A discussion was then started with some youths lounging at a nearby table. Their manner was, 'hey look at me'. They were dressed in low slung jeans and t-shirts.
He began with the lad in a singlet, so much bare flesh did look a tad incongrous, I was amazed to see the boy get up and leave with just a word or two of, Arabic 'hey man, I'm not harming anyone'. As we turned our attention to paying, the other boys were being, presumably asked to go and dress correctly, all being done in this very quiet manner!
In bed that night, as is always the way, I asked myself why I had complied? Where was the vitriolic speech I pracised in my head ending with telling him to get a proper job?
He was a smooth operator!
I've just found more scribblings in the margins of the crossword puzzler (thanks Poll, nearly finished !)
I had entered the malls with my scarf hanging around my neck ready to pull up if need be. I clocked everyone as I strolled, looking for other bared heads. There were other females shopping even without the scarf at the ready, I felt ok.
As we finished up our trip we mmmmmmmmmmm . . . I said we bought doughnuts ! !
We were queueing for our health conscious fruit juices, he a Barbados Islander and I a Wicked Berry when Stephen nudged me. He had noticed a man in pristine white with a beautiful floaty black scarf and a rather striking goatee. The 'holy man' had very quietly asked me to pull my veil up as he slipped through the crowds. I automatically did it, turning to see who, what, where.
A discussion was then started with some youths lounging at a nearby table. Their manner was, 'hey look at me'. They were dressed in low slung jeans and t-shirts.
He began with the lad in a singlet, so much bare flesh did look a tad incongrous, I was amazed to see the boy get up and leave with just a word or two of, Arabic 'hey man, I'm not harming anyone'. As we turned our attention to paying, the other boys were being, presumably asked to go and dress correctly, all being done in this very quiet manner!
In bed that night, as is always the way, I asked myself why I had complied? Where was the vitriolic speech I pracised in my head ending with telling him to get a proper job?
He was a smooth operator!
Honeys ! We're home !
Not that we're counting down or anything but that was the final shopping weekend in Riyadh before, well, you know.
We trawled a couple of the malls, from Claire's Accessories to Harvey Nich's. Nobody get excited ! Just passing through yáll.
We tasted Turkish one night. You know I love hummus! We were not disappointed with the flatbread giving you the hint of the oven floor. That doesn't sound as good as it was meant to. I'm trying to allude to the hint of fire!
No Stephen, I do not mean burned bread ! Phillestine ! (Next stop, Spelling Bee)
In the evenings, the streets seem more exciting ! People stopping to meet and greet; the impatient cars sounding off as they queue to drop their passengers at the door; the heavy scents enveloping you as you enter, telling you to slow down, take your time.
Inside you join the preamble (?!) around each floor, skirting the crying toddlers trying to ride the escalators with their older siblings on 'kid' duty, their parents leisurely discussing, shopping needs, without breaking stride, he proud in pristine white, she mysterious in floating black, intricately henna'd hands drawing the veil forward.
Polly and I once walked through Tiffany's in Singapore, pretending to be Holly Golightly.
I had no accomplice with me this time to stop and finger the fabulous designer ball gowns in H.N.
Stephen is not awestruck by such fripperies.
There are very few female shop assistants and no opportunity to try on before you buy. You're best bet is to take it to the nearest toilets to try on and take it back if need be. Do they do this with the fabulous ballgowns? Do you think anyone with that kind of money ponders, points and has them delivered at her convenience?!
The libido on these men out here must be shocking to live with !
Having said that, I did see a video the other night taken of a young Western girl speeding around on her quad bike and being chased loudly and furiously by young men dressed in the white robe careening along in their cars. Is it not to be expected ?!
The computer age must be affecting this enclosed state. After all, it's out there for all to see !
We didn't get to catch up with anyone in Riyadh due to the 'flu' doing it's rounds. That's the last thing we need now!
So the drive back flowed along effortlessly for us in the back with our sewing, (!), books and ipods.
Nothing to do but view Riyadh's forty shades of grey. Everything is painted concrete; blue grey,; green grey; brown grey; pink grey; grey grey. There are lots of new builds; homes, shops, offices sprouting along the way. Architectural style is everything from Arabic, Indian to American/English with patches of desert in between.
Riyadh has the American slick glamour of Vegas at night and in the morning the light, dry, parched, dusty, rusty desert.
As we pass through the police checkpoint on the highway out of town we witnessed the herds of camels, black and white, grazing on goodness know what; the arrid, flat, pinky red desert against the misty grey blue flat sky. Just like a child's drawing.
The old white grey lorries plastered in arabic script with tankers bearing signs on the back like. BE AWAY 100 FEET. DANGER.
The features on this flat landscape are the electricity pylons striding into the distance; odd bits of grey green scrub like fluff on the sands interspersed with discarded tyres; a dirty white tent here and there; a collection of half built breeze block buildings and the rusty remains of mangled cars.
Stephen passed the time with Woody Guthrie while I found a gentle soothing Beethoven piece on violin. Nothing too excitable.
You know you're nearing Site 3 as you start to pass the low continuous hedges of white grey rubble dumped along the verge from the de-construction of the works.
So did I tell you our driver is a look-a-like for Charles Bronson? !
So he could have been a fillum star, . . . and he could have been . . . a driver from Buraidah called Pollarca, hona lua hey, okay !
I watch way too much telly.
We trawled a couple of the malls, from Claire's Accessories to Harvey Nich's. Nobody get excited ! Just passing through yáll.
We tasted Turkish one night. You know I love hummus! We were not disappointed with the flatbread giving you the hint of the oven floor. That doesn't sound as good as it was meant to. I'm trying to allude to the hint of fire!
No Stephen, I do not mean burned bread ! Phillestine ! (Next stop, Spelling Bee)
In the evenings, the streets seem more exciting ! People stopping to meet and greet; the impatient cars sounding off as they queue to drop their passengers at the door; the heavy scents enveloping you as you enter, telling you to slow down, take your time.
Inside you join the preamble (?!) around each floor, skirting the crying toddlers trying to ride the escalators with their older siblings on 'kid' duty, their parents leisurely discussing, shopping needs, without breaking stride, he proud in pristine white, she mysterious in floating black, intricately henna'd hands drawing the veil forward.
Polly and I once walked through Tiffany's in Singapore, pretending to be Holly Golightly.
I had no accomplice with me this time to stop and finger the fabulous designer ball gowns in H.N.
Stephen is not awestruck by such fripperies.
There are very few female shop assistants and no opportunity to try on before you buy. You're best bet is to take it to the nearest toilets to try on and take it back if need be. Do they do this with the fabulous ballgowns? Do you think anyone with that kind of money ponders, points and has them delivered at her convenience?!
The libido on these men out here must be shocking to live with !
Having said that, I did see a video the other night taken of a young Western girl speeding around on her quad bike and being chased loudly and furiously by young men dressed in the white robe careening along in their cars. Is it not to be expected ?!
The computer age must be affecting this enclosed state. After all, it's out there for all to see !
We didn't get to catch up with anyone in Riyadh due to the 'flu' doing it's rounds. That's the last thing we need now!
So the drive back flowed along effortlessly for us in the back with our sewing, (!), books and ipods.
Nothing to do but view Riyadh's forty shades of grey. Everything is painted concrete; blue grey,; green grey; brown grey; pink grey; grey grey. There are lots of new builds; homes, shops, offices sprouting along the way. Architectural style is everything from Arabic, Indian to American/English with patches of desert in between.
Riyadh has the American slick glamour of Vegas at night and in the morning the light, dry, parched, dusty, rusty desert.
As we pass through the police checkpoint on the highway out of town we witnessed the herds of camels, black and white, grazing on goodness know what; the arrid, flat, pinky red desert against the misty grey blue flat sky. Just like a child's drawing.
The old white grey lorries plastered in arabic script with tankers bearing signs on the back like. BE AWAY 100 FEET. DANGER.
The features on this flat landscape are the electricity pylons striding into the distance; odd bits of grey green scrub like fluff on the sands interspersed with discarded tyres; a dirty white tent here and there; a collection of half built breeze block buildings and the rusty remains of mangled cars.
Stephen passed the time with Woody Guthrie while I found a gentle soothing Beethoven piece on violin. Nothing too excitable.
You know you're nearing Site 3 as you start to pass the low continuous hedges of white grey rubble dumped along the verge from the de-construction of the works.
So did I tell you our driver is a look-a-like for Charles Bronson? !
So he could have been a fillum star, . . . and he could have been . . . a driver from Buraidah called Pollarca, hona lua hey, okay !
I watch way too much telly.
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