Recovery

Back.

Well, actually I got back Tuesday night, but it's taken this long to decompress, calm down and sort out the laundry.

Friday - Tuesday = too many days combined with parents. Don't get me wrong, I love them both dearly and I am very lucky that they are relatively normal and sane, but, even so, I wish they'd turn off the damn TV sometimes. That, mixed with the traffic noise and the endless inane chatter nearly drove me up the wall. I am definitely a hermit. I cannot understand how my mother, who is otherwise an intelligent, well-read woman, can watch all those soaps without feeling her brain cells spontaneously combusting. Mind you, she's still a pretty good cook, so my vitamin levels are probably higher than they have been since I was last there :-)

Sadly it seems that Granny's fall may have been a symptom of something worse, probably another little stroke. She was up the North Staffs hospital for a few days, then transferred to Cheadle. She's refusing, or is unable, to walk, and is really confused about who people are and where and when she is. Once they've finished with her at Cheadle, she'll be going into a nursing home. My uncle can't look after her any more, she will need full-time nursing care from now on. My cousin's wife, who is an elderly-care person herself, went round a bunch of homes, and picked out a really nice one which in fact, is the one my other granny ended up in. So at least she'll be somewhere nice with a big garden and nice people looking after her. It's such a shame though, she never wanted to end up like this. My only comfort is that she doesn't really know what's happening.

In other news, apparently I am a disappointment to my parents. I'm not overly surprised. My Dad still thinks I should have been an engineer, preferably following in his footsteps (wake?) by going to sea. Yeah. There are a few reasons this would never have happened. I can't do maths, I can barely wire a plug, physics is an entirely closed book to me (apart from some of the really cool quantum stuff) and I can get seasick on wet grass. Also I am terrified of deep water and I can't swim.

My mum has started hinting that isn't it about time I started having babies?
Yowza. That one came out of left field. I can barely look after myself and the cat as it is. And unless they really are brought by storks, or found under the cabbages in the garden, the chances of it happening are right up there with Hell freezing over or the Tories winning the next election in Scotland. I did point out that there are normally one or two essential criteria for sprog-production, the most vital usually being the presence of a suitably enthusiastic male, and that such things are not so much in short supply as actually non-existent. This didn't seem to deter her a great deal, so maybe she's turning religious and is thinking of the next immaculate conception. Sheesh. I told her I would much rather have a dog, thanks.

So anyway, I managed to do a little shopping whilst up Hanley duck (it's a Stoke thing, don't worry about it) and scored a fab pair of biker boots which I have been wanting for, oh, about the last 15 years:



"Biker Wild Ones" by Grinder, from Dignity in Hanley. Love (10000000). I also bought a couple of tops and a dress from Trentham, and a dinky pink shrug. I'm looking forward to wearing the pretty dress and shrug with the boots :-)

I also had to shell out £200 to get the car serviced, but they did hoover it so that's ok...but I will be spending the rest of the month living on rice and whatever is lurking in the bottom of the freezer. I did want to go over to Fife to Twist Fibrecraft, but I daren't. My debit card is sobbing quietly in the corner as it is.

~*~