What a relief

I have to admit that whenever my boys play I die a little.
But credit where credit is due England played well last night. Well at least I think they did. They won 3-0. Can't do better than win.
I dare say pundits will moan about this that and the other but they walked off the Wembley turf with a good score tucked in their shin pads.
So well done Roy and the boys, have a little sit down and look forward to next Wednesday.
I know I will.

On the home front....
Took mother out this morning. And have since spent the rest of the day lifting her, putting her down, finding things, wiping spills and feeding her.
We also moved her bed.

After giving her feet the once over in a plug-in pedicure spa type gizmo Hairy Suit and I ran away to Four Seasons garden centre and Mr Horsehound escaped to the top of the hill to play with his new radio. Ham radio being his thing.And, as I await his return, I'll watch Andy Murray at Roland Garros with mum who, in turns is either sombre or barking out orders, Life at the bungalow is rarely dreary...
By the way Hairy Suit is tenderly planting courgettes.

This morning as mother and I....

greet the ladies in our favourite charity shops my  mind will be on Roy Hodgson.
The man who, if his players play their part, could be knighted if his England team win the World Cup.
To achieve this, Roy's boys need to do well in the Group stage then and only then will the lads and their avuncular, well-read manager start their true trek to the latter stages.

To get them in the mood.... a nice friendly game against Peru tonight.

Hello Glorwia, many thanks for your tireless support. By the way the boys and I would love to see you in your kit. All the best. Woy x

Hello Roy, as regards my kit, I'll get Mr Horsehound to pose me then if I don't look too awful I'll post a nice pic. Keep Believing.  

Here you are boys...Eagerly waiting on the subs' bench and best of friends in the team bath afterwards.

Here there and everywher

Shopping on my own much to the chagrin of mother.
Returning to find her in full attack mode.
Never a moments peace.

I had to laugh though because even though she knows I have my own health concerns she relented NOT.
After I gave her a bed bath I said
"I'm having an hours sleep"..........
Four times she called my name. In the end I stood in the hall not knowing where to go.
It's a funny old game this life thing. It's precious and soft, like when in love and tender at times, when you get gooey over kittens, cute pups and snowflakes and the kindness of others but then there are days and nights when it feels as if you're being buried alive. You're not of course, it just seems that way.

Friday Fun Anyone?

When I write my shopping list later today there'll be fancies to chomp on, to savour, for when we watch England v. Peru on Friday night.
For our tea I expect, infact I know, I'll be making bowls of something.... or other...... Chilli possibly or even some kind of chickeny one pot thing. Probably plump for the bird.
As kick-off isn't till 20:00 hrs there'll be ooodles of time to cook.
Can't wait!

Lisa popped in yesterday tea time to do my hair she also gave Mother a bob. Lisa's a funny woman, not in a comic sort of way, she rarely cracks a joke or dabbles in double entendre, but in an monosyllabic uncreative I don't have a clue what you're talking about sort of way. Mention anything other than pubs and she's lost. Still, I like her.

Tennis from the French Open will be on my tv screen this morning, I'll  have to push the mute button though when Andy from the palliative care team arrives. He's coming to look at Mother's feet. And slip in gentle words of support for me.
Oh dear, oh Mother, what have you done to me?

Has the pressure of looking after you damaged my ticker?
Deidre, the nurse practitioner almost hugged me yesterday after my consultation. And, after telling me to have a check it all blood test and ECG, she worried me with her parting words...
"You MUST take things easy".

So on the drive home my imagination went beserk.
Was I about to keel over? Would I need a pacemaker? Will I see 58? But being an optimist I answered myself. Hope not. Doubt it. Of course.

Mother has no real idea of what is going on. She lives in the squalor of her imagination that sees her living at home again. With help of course. And so many times I've had to be brutally honest by informing her that being independent isn't on the cards. My love.

But today, as I sit here feeling funky with my cool haircut, all I want to think about is Friday:)

Very Worried

Nick Clegg, current leader of the Lib Dems, Ed Miliband, current leader of the Labour party, David Cameron, Prime Minister and Roy Hodgson. England football coach.
Four men, in the public eye, who have much to be concerned about.

Cleggy on account of failing catastrophically in the European elections and having his ambitious colleague Mr Danny Alexander dying his hair and crushing his spectacles. Hmmm....

Milibum because he looks weird. Which I think is cruel and unfair. He does though make me ponder the idea that the Labour party would be in a far better place if his Brother, David was leader.

Camiknickers, because Farage has Dave's bum firmly clenched by his beer stained teeth.

Hodgo because to lose against Peru would be serious. Like...if Roy's baby boy team can't smack Peru on Friday then what will they do when faced with the Italians on June 14th. Excitement doesn't get more exciting than this.
To sum up....
I feel for the guys, I really do, especially Hodgo. He's tense I expect, as am I. He's hoping for a positive outcome as am I, and most of all....he's eager to get a good result, as do I.
 I have an appointment this morning to see Nursie. No doctors being available.
On the bright side the nurse practitioner I'm seeing is lovely.
Nurse Deirdre.

Mother is wailing so I've been on the phone and tomorrow Andy will be checking her feet.


Now I must fly, have to gorge myself on politics whilst eating me porridge.

Shocking News!

Yesterday as I was reading about the massive property portfolios of the members of boy band One Direction I had a funny turn.
One moment I was tut tutting about their super wealth the next I was on the floor.
Silly woman.
According to Mr Hairy Suit I just dropped off the radar.
He then ran into the other room to get Mr Horsehound.
I was in and out of consciousness apparently, so being ultra cautious Mr H dialled three nines and within five minutes a para medic was bending over me.
What a twat I am.
An overworked overwrought underweight 57year old menopausal woman getting the vapours when reading about a boy band.
Mother meanwhile said nothing.

After many questions he, that's the medicine man tested my heart, a bit of a bad beat apparently, and then did blood glucose test, bit low too. All pretty banal stuff really but he said I should see my GP to get a blood test. Over or under active thyroid? Anemia? Silly old trout doing too much? Could be anything! Stress/Not enough food/old age/trying to please everyone. Oh good lord the possibilities are endless old boy!
He also questioned my persistent cough, and listened to my lungs with his chilly stethoscope, according to him, I have crepitations in my right or is it left, lower lobes. Oh lovely...
Sitting hunched on the settee  (I looked drunk) I wondered what next.

Mother said nothing.

Mr Horsehound and Mr Hairy Suit were fantastic. Calm, confident. I was so lucky to be with, to be saved by, two fabulous MEN. The para medic was glossy with perspiration and talked too softly. Could barely hear a word he said. He also asked about my lycra underwear. Some ladies he told me unpin their elastics when on the point of fainting. Really? Why are all people in the medical profession bloody comedians?
I could not laugh. I was a bit concerned, thought I might be having a heart attack.

I can't say I'm surprised at my silliness, I haven't felt well lately. But to have to go to the docs on Tuesday is something I can do withoutt.
I'm concerned that my GP will tell me to go the A & E with a letter. I joke a lot but I can't quite chuckle about this.
Who will look after mum?
I'm biting my lip.

But by nature I'm an optimist, glass half full and all that.
So, on Tuesday, armed with my new handbag and cardiograph I'll hablar con alguien with my Spanish GP.




Other News....

I've cut my fringe.

Happy Birthday Mother!

You've reached 77 years.
Well done you.


Over on  my other blog I've posted pics of recent food successes.

Watched the F.A, Cup Final last night. Plucky Hull City gave Arsenal a scare by going two ahead in a very short space of time. But the Gunners rallied and killed the Tigers off by bagging three goals. They needed extra time though!
It was a thrilling match made so by the underdogs scoring miraculously early and Arsenal running around like mad frogs in a hat box.
We, that's mother and myself, watched it all from the kick off to the final whistle. We're talking again now...
So tactics and what would happen to Arsene Wenger if Arsenal lost....were discussed..... as we dived lovingly into our tea of Chinese style chicken. I was dubious at first as to whether or not mum would embrace the dark red chicken and veggie mix....but mum really liked it.

It's been a hard week. Really tiring both physically and mentally. But now, on this gloriously warm sunny day Mr Horsehond is snoozing on the settee after doing an hours gardening, mum is drifting in and out of lala land and I'm talking to you while a nice piece of pork shoulder roasts.
Human Beings eh!
Life? What an almighty joke!


Do check my Table there are pictures of my food.....