Good Morning All
I thought I’d better get this blog sorted and posted ASAP because I’m off to my chiro lady, Archna, shortly and after she has cast her beady eye on me I may not be coming back in one piece. I actually highly respect the woman. She is honest and up-front. She leaves me under no illusion that the best she can offer is to hold back time and further degeneration of the old neck discs. But you know what? That’ll do.
After that, a quick trot to the pet shop to get the chucks some corn and the fish some pellets and a dash to Morrison’s to get Chea some more food. She is still on Sheba – but not the pate’ variety and preferably not the jelly now. We have now moved on to chunky, meaty bits in gravy. At least that is today’s preference. She appears non the worse for her conifer antics and my wounds are healing well. My son is here just now replacing ten fence panels and the conifer in question is now behind a six-foot panel and out of reach – I think? She is not impressed at not being allowed out just now and spent all day yesterday wall-of-deathing around the house, sitting in the bedroom window scowling and leaving footprints in the toilet bowl. Mid-day I caught a particularly vicious glare which said, ‘Take me back to the RSPCA.’
Talking of supermarkets – which subliminally I was – don’t you find them a source of amusement and also irritation? I was going to say something there about large people, leaning on shopping trolleys, blocking the isles but I’ve thought better of it.
No, what I mean is – I find this kind of thing irritating – ‘Extra Tasty Chicken just £1 extra!’ Are they saying that the chicken at normal price is tasteless? Why would you buy tasteless chicken? How much does it cost to paint-on a bit of tasty additive. Why aren’t they all tasty?
And then there’s, ‘New! Improved!’ How can it be improved if it’s new? If it’s new there hasn’t been a previous version. And the ‘Buy One Get One Frees’ are bloody insulting to the average brain cell. ‘Buy a tube of Pringles for £2 50 and get one free.’ Bugger off! Not so long ago Pringles were £1 a tube.
Then there’s the funny side – at least Richard and I find it amusing – but then we don’t get out much. I’ll say, ‘Pass the stupid bleach,’ and Richard passes the Thick Bleach. I’ll say, ‘Pass the prostitutes,’ and Richard bungs in the Loose Lemons. Then we have the erection – Self Raising Flour. The muscles – Strong Onions. The jolly list is endless. I won’t divulge what we call the ‘Boned Out Meat!’
As I say, we really should get out more but probably not to supermarkets.
Talking of Richard, which, again, subliminally I was, he struggled home from work yesterday on the verge of collapse. His shoulder was giving him hell, the painkillers had made him feel sick and his tooth (the one that needs £1,000 spending on it, remember?) had abscessed. Obviously I dashed around attempting to offer advice and help (?) but he was too poorly to even speak to me. He managed to suck half a cheese sandwich, sufficient to take further painkillers and drink a glass of milk and then he sat in front of the fire until I departed for bed at 10.30. Before I limped up to bed – my back is buggered as well remember, he said, ‘I’ve just tried to pop this abscess and can’t and now it is killing me.’
I doubted that. The killing him bit I mean. That pleasure, surely, one day must be all mine? So, I equipped him with some strong, warm, salt water and cotton-wool and told him to bathe the gum for twenty minutes at a time, several times throughout the night. It might work. It works on cats! And it definitely works on horses!
Must go. My chiro lady, the pet shop and Morrison’s call. I might need to pick up a bag of erection.
Take care my lovelies x