After much huffing and groans and a much needed extra pair of hands from my neighbour we finally plunged the piano into the front room.

And so there it stands. Black and beautiful. Glorious in its simplicity. Homey with its imperfection. I like it.

It was yesterday afternoon we trundled to Southend in Bertie the campervan to collect our musical instrument. We, being, Rob's dad Trevor, Rob himself and me. And as we pushed and heaved the old piano out onto the street I wondered if I was mad. Or at least on the road to madness. Since my Stroke I've done some odd things. But I won't dwell on that because it scares me. Will I one day run naked along the Ashingdon road? Or worse still, eat fried eggs willy nilly? Hey lets just hope that day never comes.We arrived at the shop and had a run in with a twit in an illegally parked white saloon. The sneer we got as we stopped alongside him was a cracker. 
"We need to stop here" I shouted out the window. This is a loading bay. And we are loading a piano real soon"
He begrudgingly inched away and we parked nicely.



Anyway the three of us rattled the piano out of the shop and steered it across a very busy road into the loading bay area where old Bertie with doors open wide awaited his latest passenger.
Oh Lord it was a so and so getting it inside. Luckily Rob is a gadget guy and produced a homemade ramp type thing. All we had to do was lift the piano onto the ramp and gently push it in.
After a lots of sweat had drizzled down our faces we drove the piano home. Getting it out of the campervan needed another pair of man hands so I asked the man who lives opposite if he could help.
He did so glady asking in between huffs and puffs how I was getting on since my near death Stroke.
"Yeah I'm ok thanks, Sorry can't remember your name"
He laughed and continued humping.

The piano now stands along the wall by the door opposite the bay window. Last night I frightened the cat by tickling the ivories with an awful offering of "Rock of Ages".
I feel this  latest find from a charity shop will prove to be great and beneficial.

Although I do not envisage evening recitals more afternoon annoyances...






 

I bought a piano. Its beng delivered tomorrow. It needs tuning but imagine the fun trying to play 'Rock of Ages'.
Found it when Rob and me popped into a Christian charity shop in a backstreet in Southend. We'd gone in there not only to look at restored furniture but to enquire whether they'd be interested in having young Mark for a couplke of weeks as part of his work experience thingy which begins Feb 2016.
The chat we had was fruitful, infact we are all traipsing down to Southend this afternoon to see the manager.

Apart from selling restored furniture they sell musical instruments... The woman on the till almost begged me to take it off her hands. WHAT? Being a mug and keen show-off I made her an outstanding offer of...£10.
We'll deiver it Saturday she said and I danced out of the shop.
Something very weird and wonderfaul happened when my Blood and Brain collided. Thanks guys!

I sparkle.
Gone is the brown. The proper and sensible.  In are the lilacs, purples, cobalt blues and rose. I wear a sparkling scarf around my neck in shades of silver and midnight blue and on my nails, mauve varnish to accentuate the green ring.
I'm awash with the rainbow. And I love it.
Something very good has happened. I've read about strokes and what they do and one of the after effects can, in some cases, be a loss of inhibition. Well my dears my inhibitions went away on Friday the 13th November and havn't been seen since.
And it is the best thing that's ever happened to me.

After an Indian meal in our favourite restaurant I danced in the street, in the dark wearing a gorgeous black halter neck dress. There weren't a lot of folk about, it was late after all, but I couldn't hold in how I felt. I swirled and stretched my arms heavenwards managing not to fall. Rob looked on in utter amazement becuase only a few weeks ago I was at deaths door. The human spirit and a fair dose of good fortune got me there. Dancing on the pavement on a cold December night. And I won't forget how close I came to losing these priceless treasures.

And although I'm on a sack of drugs every day I feel as if my life is about to begin all over again. Only this time without the lessons...Been there.


Today, infact very shortly, we are off out to buy some Christmas lights for indoors. I already have the tree garlanded with clear lights but I can't get enough LIGHT. Everything needs to SHINE. Maybe I've got a screw loose, I don't know, what I do know however is that if this being bonkers then BRING IT ON. I'm ready....

Just thinking

Is that a rosebud I see from my bay window?

My first feeling was to dash out and cover it. Protect it. From frosty winds. My second thought was to Let it Be.
Red roses don't need a bad gardener like me interfering in their life. God knows they've survived long enough without my touch. So I'll just watch in wonderment. Wonderment? Is that a word? It is now.

I've hung Christmas balls on the outside tree, the tree which bears pink blooms in August, see I told you I'm not greenfingered. The balls hang by a thread (don't we all?) even last night's pushy winds didn't dislodge them. Not one. This morning I hung out of the window expecting to find the gold, red silver and green baubles scattered on me lawn like giant rainbow coloured dewdrops. But hats off to them they had weathered the battering and swung around in the morning sun.

I flashed my monthly bus pass at the sour-faced driver then took my seat at the back. The back where bad girls sit. Glancing adoringly at gaily decorated houses and bungalows my mind soon wandered to what gens I might find in two of my favourute charity shops.
Then I missed my stop.
No worries.

The first shop ~ A black PVC chain handled handbag. Excellent condition. Not the kind of bag I ususally use but it 'spoke' to me. Or was it Mum?
A black beaded shoulder evening bag with rope handle. Originally from Debenhams. Again in tiptop nick. Ideal I thought for lipstick and perfume on a night out.
A butter soft purse in Teal. From Clarkes. Good condition. Lots of pockets.
A suede roped bracelet with diamente diamonds swinging will nilly.


Shop two ~ a greenbox with two compartments. It's made of some kind of heavy duty resin. It is in the shape of a thick book. On the spine is a worrying looking pentacle. Underneath the withcraft symbol is a black spider with a shining ruby body. So cute. Laying on to top is the witches familiar, A cat relaxed with emerald eyes. What a beautiful boy. As I carried it home with all the other junk (treasures) I imagined twenty£ notes folded condertina style inside it. Yes a nice little money box.
What else?
A pair of black patent leather knee high boots (Next) . I could not believe my luck. I've been stomping around (pre-stroke) in a pair of brown leather boots from Faith (originally). Cost a small fortune (£8).  But post-stroke I've seen the light and the light is good it's shown me where I've been hiding...a deeply safe place but a tad dark and DULL. So I danced to the till and handed over £6 to the lady.
God I'm going to have fun in those I thought as I struggled out.
Also bought was a small brown beaded cross-body phone holder type bag thing. My antique phone fits perfectly. No more scampering around fingering my handbags hoping to find a buzzing phone. £2.

So I had a major two hour charity run and enjoyed every moment. Not a lot was spent, but I feel like a Queen.

Oh by the way. I found out who my benefactor was. Remember the mysterious bouquet of oriental lillies?
A former fun loving, Porsche driving sparring partner read my blog and a thousand blooms were on their way.

Now I must fly..............Into a cold kitchen to bake some homemade cod roe fishcakes, spiced-up wedges, pea puree, tomatoes and lettuce. Pudding will probably be 0% fat vanilla yogurt and apricots.

Keep warm All. Be good. And give to the poor. (I did, yesterday, a scallywag asked me for 50p, I gave it to him telling him to get a banana. He blessed me and called me Miss)

As I write this I'm keeping an eye on BBC Parliament watchijg and listening to the debate on whether to embark on military action in Syria.

I don't want to go to bed because I wriggle uneasily concerned by every ache, especially in my head.
This morning I woke early feeling as if myhead and neck had been encased in concrete then chained to the bedpost. Not nice.
Feeling heavy, weighed down I eventually rose about 11 and walked intot he kitchen wondering what to do.
Since the event of 13th Novemebr making a pot of tea is  a mammoth task.
But I love tea so I staggered on!

The House of Commons is swelling with MPs each speaker, some more bearable than others.
Shadow Foreign Secretary, Hilary Benn is on his feet defending his friend and leader Jeremy Corbyn who along with other members of the parliamentary Labour party were called terrorist sympathisers by David Cameron.Calls for an apology from the Prime Minister have yeilded nothng but silence.

I made some Drop Scones this afternoon and served them for tea with warmed mandarins in apricot sauce. And to ease the orange onslaught, a spoonful of natural fat free yogurt for some creaminess.

Today I received dozens and dozens of scented oriental lillies. I was speechless as the enormous bunch of my favourite blooms was placed in my arms by the delivery driver. My green dressing gown was smothered by the huge gift.
And the wonderful thing is....I don't know who sent them.
The card said Hope you make a speedy recovery.

If the much welcomed gift was sent by one of my readers I Thank You...

Now I'll sign off as Hilary Benn finishes one hell of a barnstorming speech...Members are clapping, cheering...
Is this Mr Benn's first shining step towards becoming Labours next Leader?

Depending on how I sleep and how I wake I might adventure out on my own tomorrow. Not allowed to drive but I have a bus pass..

So much to look forward to.............

I felt a bit normal today.
Swaying a bit but normal in other respects.
I switched on the tv and saw the snooker was on, I nearly cried with joy. An old pal.
Naturally I clung to it.
And as I prepared the sauce for my chicken legs John Virgo's gentle tones soothed.

Yesterday I spent some time with Rob's son, Mark. And as we watched some rubbish tv I held him in my arms stroking his forehead. I like being Auntie Angela. Rob and I also visited his ma and pa. We discussed life over biscuits and tea and how nothing no more will worry me. Too much.
Being hours from death kind of wakes you up.

I'm going out tomorrow with Jeannie (Mark's mum) and I promised her I won't fall over. I know my way to the charity shop in Manstead Gardens with my eyes shut.....


Now I must slowly glide into the front room where a half decorated Christmas tree leans against the wall. Can't find the balls but with its bits of tinsel it looks BEAUTIFUL to me.

Two weeks ago today the Strokestruck.
But here I am waiting to watxh the news at six.
My brain, although working, is on a go-slow. Taking a foot off of the pavement and into the road takes a minute or two. Luckily I always have someone with me. Utterly out of the question is the idea of moi going it alone. For a while anyway. But in the the meantime I eat amd sleep and oh my goodness do i sleep.
I had a session with Ailsa my physion today and love her as I do I could have throttled her as she made me walk up and down my hall looing tot he right, and to the left then stepping oven a small footstall. I failde miserqably. I walked ok....but when my brain needs to make TWO movements simultaneously I bugger it up. Typing not a problem. But don't ask me to drink tea too. Or even acknowledge that you are in the room.
It'll take a while Ailsa told me, to get back to perfect normality.But return I will....

My tatstes have changed.
Sweet stuff is a no=no, meat is on the back burner so to speak, I've been living on vegetables and fish fingers.
I long to sink my teeth into a chicken curry.
I'm attemptoin a little cooking this weekend, keep ypu posted on events.

Now I must focus on politics.. Thank goodness my Brain Attack didn't kill all my interests.
I thihnk Corbyn is a gonner.