Two mysteries

Yesterday I received an email from a nice bank security site that asked me for my details to ensure that I wasn't being hacked.  Okay so that was easy to suss out and delete.
The next one took me a while.  A phone call purporting to be from Telstra telling me that because I was an excellent payer of my bills I was going to get a discount.  Need I tell you that it sounded like the Peter Sellers Memorial call centre.  They weren't asking me to change from Telstra which is why is took some time to get suspicious and even now, I might be wrong.  The discounts sounded great apart from the fact that I don't make STD calls even capped at 90c.  But they had my phone number, my 2nd right name and address (SE water has the 1st right name) and asked for my birthdate as confirmation, no problems as every company I deal with does that.  After complimenting me on not sounding as though I was born in l948 (never getting a webcam, never) she asked for my ABN for the business I was running.  No ABN, so to get this wonderful discount, could I give them my pension card number.  By this time I was getting a bit stroppy about how much information Telstra had but was asking to be verified and the pension number was the last straw. I yelled and was handed over to a supervisor who was also told that I do not give out my pension number or my credit card number over the phone.
The supervisor was tough, she kept going on about the wonderful discount if only I would hand over that number.  The yelling got louder on my end and I won by hanging up but I did say thank you first.
I thought about ringing Telstra and asking if there was a wonderful discount but with my luck I'd be straight through to the PSMCC.

There was a third mystery involving a deceased black bird under the apple tree. There are no cats around, I didn't think a possum would beat a bird, the ravens just scare them away so how did Blackie die?
I was watching the lorikeets in the apple tree this morning, it's right outside the back door, no more than the footpath away.  I only keep the tree and its wormy apples for the birds, keep it cut flat on the house side but let it run wild on the lawn side. They all crowd under it when it's screaming hot.  So, I'm watching the upside down bird munching away in the tree while under are pigeons, black birds and mynahs eating seed or bathing in the drinking water, little sods.  The up bird munches through a vital holding twig and down comes the apple and misses a pigeon by a bee's appendage. All the others took off for the rotary line but I think lucky was a bit wonky from the shockwave and just stood there looking at the apple (or possibly an avian Newton pondering gravity) while Lorikeet moved up to the next level apple.
So it's possible that's how Blackie was topped.

You'll have to wait a bit..

I announce the arrival of a digital camera in the house.
This morning I photographed my first bird in the apple tree and it was a lorrikeet.
The second photo was much better when I discovered the telephoto lens and I could actually see the bird in the leaves scoffing an apple.
I managed to get the charger assembled, yes, only two parts but it took the best part of an hour to read instructions and follow.
I'm getting used to holding the camera still and not waving it all over the place but being short sighted I have to put my glasses on top of my head to see what I'm looking at through the view thingy.
Now I have a grand total of one image of mother and 3 images of a bird and 4 deleted of me.
I have to load the software so I can load the images and that should take about a month.
Honestly would it kill manufacturers to paint the teeny tiny icons in white so I can see what I'm supposed to do.
The camera is a lovely bright red so I can't lose it, unfortunately the mobile is also bright red so I can't lose it.  I do see some confusion in the future.
The salesperson was very helpful when I showed him my 7 year old mobile phone and told him I was still carrying the instructions and I wanted a camera for dummies. He put the battery and the memory card in the camera, very slowly so I could follow him.  That really was a help since I now can't figure out how to get the bottom open. I had enough trouble with the cover over the charging doover.

So I still have 12 exposures on the big camera from last year and I'll use them up for old times sake then store it with its instruction book which I started to read. Well who knew that odd little piece on the end of the plastic bit on the strap was to put in the hole on top to rewind the film. I just used to keep clicking until the film gave up and rewound itself.  11 years to find that out.  You could be waiting a long time for a digital post around here.

Wowie!

It seems the sun chucked a wobbly last week and earth copped the fallout of electrons, protons and ions.
Most of the cloud passed over us but the magnetosphere managed to get a share and in the high northern latitudes had a spectacular showing of auroras.


This image was taken above Grotfjord, Norway by Bjorn Jorgens.


A more powerful solar flare occurred yesterday so we'll have more brilliant photographs in the next week.

I just had to share.

Remember that nice little Burmese glass fairy light that no-one else liked except me?
This is just as sweet and would look lovely in an entrance hall. The soft light reflected back is very kind to old skin, wrinkles and sagging everything else.
The only drawback are the colours which are the Burmese glass colours but too, too pink.
See how easy it is to stuff up something so gorgeous.

By the way, a sea-going world cruise is off the Bucket List.

Meet me whale mate

Another ' what is it' moment but honestly don't click and enlarge.

It's the vertebrae of a basking shark.  They've been overfished thanks to their highly valued fins and are now on the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species. They don't reproduce quickly, having low fertility, are slow growing, long lived but slow to mature.

This is what a basking shark does best.  Lazes at the surface of the sea with mouth  (what a north and south it is)  open, filter feeding on zooplankton. In one hour they can filter enough water to fill an Olympic-size swimmig pool.


They are the second largest fish behind whale sharks but not much is known about their habits. Pregnant females and and young have never been spotted and they disappear for half the year. Scientists have tagged them but since they live for 50 years or more and the tags fall off after a year, it's hard to follow their migration patterns.

Which is where this section of vertebrae comes in.  Like tree rings, the vertebrae consists of distinct layers of tissue laid down sequentially over an individual's life time in an alternating light/dark banding pattern.  Using vertebrae from sharks that have stranded on beaches, scientists are looking for a radioactive isotope from nuclear bomb blasts set off in the l950s. the residue which fell all over us and the ocean.  Different areas of the ocean have different ratios of stable carbon and nitrogen isotopes so when overlain on a map of the ocean, they create distinct isotope patches and when the whales eat the plankton in these patches it shows up in the layers and in time will enable scientists to map their migration pathways.
Knowing where and when they go will help form a plan of conservation that will also help whale sharks and great whites thanks to the research of Li Ling Hamady.

As you can see in this map, colour variations represent different ratios of nitrogen isotopes in the ocean.

Burmese Glass

The beautiful shading of Burmese Glass is something glorious.  Queen Victoria is credited with naming this as it reminded her of a sunset in Burma.  Antique ware is rare but Fenton Glass is still manufacturing items.  The surface was finished with acid giving it a satin look.

This lovely vase was manufactured by the Mt. Washington Glass Company of Massachusetts which introduced the line in 1885 and produced it for about 10 years.

The addition of calcium based minerals such as fluorospar and feldspar made the glass opaque then a small amount of gold was added for the top pink portion.  A moderate amount of uranium oxide was used to produce the soft yellow tone.  This is a Webb mother of pearl finish with a painted overlay

This vase is similar but is called Peachblow, the bottom is pink to red at the top and is not satin finished. It has a raised gold painted overlay.

This has to be my favourite.  Burmese glass was used for fairy lights and they are still being produced.  This is an example of late Victorian work and I really want this on my dressing table. The soft glow of a tealight candle would show up the hand painted butterfly to perfection. The delicate colour of the fluted edge is just me.

Slaving at the Home

I am so tired I could sing "ole Man River" and sound like Paul Robeson.  
How can a woman in a wheel chair collect so much junk that it filled two candy striped bags from the $2 Emporium?
She just looked at me and said I didn't put it up there, up there being the topmost cupboard which is above the clothes wardrobe.
I tidied all the clothes last week and the drawers. I put her heavy winter things in a garbage bag and put it on the floor of the wardrobe after taking one look at the top cupboard where  several plastic bags of clothes threatened to fall on my head.
So I go down today armed with four bags to pack her clothes neatly until next winter and it looks like there will be a next winter. I tell you this woman will outlast cockroaches. 
There are only two small bags of clothes and night dresses, the light ones she feels too cold to wear.  I'm hoping the nighties will fit my lardarse in which case I won't have to break into the emergency 'going to hospital' brand new nightdresses.
The rest of the space was taken up by an empty box that the cd player came in. A plastic bag full of books belonging to Gail who'd like them back but it's been over a year since her ma raced up that stairway to paradise and she hasn't been seen.  But just in case I put them in the bookcase library. I'm glad they didn't fall on my head, damned heavy trying to get them out from the back of the stupid deep cupboard.
Then two lots of lace in bags.  She'd gone through all that lace I'd taken down for the activities room two years ago and why?  She hid them up there because they were her favourite pieces and she didn't want to share.
Also on the heavy side, 3 parcels of Christmas cards, envelopes (I don't have any envelopes, can you bring me some etc....)and Christmas stickers (expensive ones).
Of course she didn't put them up there, she got one of her lackeys to do it.
They're home now, ready to be put with the rest of the dresses she'll never wear again but isn't quite ready to part with yet.  My sister would throw them out but I can't, I remember where we bought the material and what I usually bought in the jewellery line to go on them.
I'll go through the cards, throw out the really crappy ones, cut up the good ones and put them in the Christmas box for next card season.  
You see how my year has progressed to next Christmas already. Still if I don't do it now, I'll have to at some stage.
No, I haven't finished the Christmas brooch tree.
No, I haven't finished or started the gold crackling on the frame for the tree.


Speaking of cockroaches, we were way up there, somewhere. There was a huge one in the  BOH's room and I was going to shove the critter in one of his work sneakers to see if they really could survive anything but I took pity on him and threw him out the front door for the magpies to chase. He was a biggun and so's the huntsman that's disappeared from his usual corner.  I swear on New Year's Eve I had a tribe of possums sitting on the roof watching the fireworks and being very merry considering the noise of kerthumping over the tiles for an hour.
I've seen a brochure for a round the world cruise, $35,000.00, it would be worth the mortgage and I wouldn't even set one foot to the ground in any country where there were people.
Oh, and I thought I might take up Scuba lessons but then I thought of me in a wet suit. The headlines, "Unusual whale sighted off Mentone Beach.  Scientists baffled! Aussie Disposals rushed for harpoons."  


Life is like a box of chocolates especially if the box is full of empty wrappers. 

Glass Pretties

I have had so much trouble dragging my brain into 2012 so I'm making an effort to post a teaser subject. I had to read about these so look and learn.

They are from the period 1850 - 1910.  Pretty aren't they, gorgeous colours and I bet you can't tell me what they are. You couldn't because I didn't know and I'm rooly smart.
These glass balls with a handle length neck and fragile walls were filled with a chemical, carbon tetrachloride or an ammonia/salt water solution and, wait for it, were an early form of fire extinguisher.

These fire grenades were mounted on walls in homes, hotels, schools and churches.  Thrown at a burning area, they would break and the chemical would eliminate any oxygen, albeit briefly, to help extinguish the flames.

The most common shape were balls about 6 inches in diameter and were fluted, quilted, diamond patterned or embossed with the makers name.  The colours were beautiful, cobalt blue, green, amber, clear or ruby red.
They went the way of the dinosaurs when hose style fire extinguishers took over in the early 1900's.  Much more effective but not quite as pretty.
Now I have to find a title that won't bring budding terrorists to the blog looking for grenades.

One last ChrisPic

Here we go, just one last Christmas Picture and only because if the weather bureau is correct, then for the next few days we're all going to want to be plonked on an iceberg with the penguins.


Me Mam doesn't want me to be wandering around in the hot sun so I get to stay home with the air-con and read the extremely expensive book I indulged myself for Christmas. I've only flicked through it so far but Boucheron makes lovely jools and a sneak through their archives shows who bought and re-sold what and for whom.  All the 'Grande Horizontals' of the Fin de Siecle were customers of Boucheron and I was surprised by how many of them survived well into the 20th Century.  La Belle Otero and Liane de Pougy were courtesans and great rivals in men and jewellery.  Liane heard that Otero intended to dine at Maxim's wearing every jewell she possessed. She allowed La Belle to arrive then entered wearing a simple white dress without a single ornament, but followed by her maid, who, according to which version you like, was bowed down by a burden of diamonds or carrying a large cushion of  Madame's jewells.  Such a grand putdown almost as good as the swipe to the Duchess of Windsor, who put on a show of her latest emeralds only to hear a Maharani comment that she had been wearing those gems on her ankles only months before.  They were returned to the jeweller the next day.  


So I had another day at the Home where I picked up the escapee twice when he fell, called the bingo and had my suggestion of a small jumble sale hailed as good fun. It will be combined with a sausage sizzle, a car boot sale and  no doubt I will bring home more than I take down. It's all very well to have a Pink Ribbon afternoon for charity but not when the Activities fund is down to its last $50. Fortunately it's now looking a bit more healthy with sales of Coppy brooches going like the clappers. 


I have booze, dvds and San Churro chocs for tomorrow night and just me alone with myself, the perfect New Year's Eve.

It's all go at The Home.

I've just arrived home from a quick dash to Harris Scarfe for the BOH's Christmas present.
A set of scales that tell you everything including how many calories you need to keep your present weight or lose weight, $169.00 reduced to $49.95. Bargain.


I've been at the Home for the post Boxing Day BBQ.  I have to say that the new head girl has a real team leader spirit and everything event that I dreaded having to go to has been a blast.  The staff did all the cooking today, sausages, chops, hamburgers and garlic and herb bread. The sweets were out of this world, trifle made with sponge and crushed strawberries, chocolate ripple cake, fruit salad and one of the nurses husbands turned up with an enormous fresh chocolate cakes with strawberries on top. And icy cold Cascade light beer and wine.  But best of all, laughter, lots of it.  Something that's been missing for a while and I'm sure it had nothing to do with most of them being half pissed.


If this is my mother's last Christmas, it's been a beauty.


And no, I'm not taking my BGL until the New Year.  I would like to enjoy the last days of 2011.

24 hours of mayhem

My new reindeers and the box I had to buy to keep them in.

In the background is the frame (unfinished) for my Christmas Brooch tree.

So now it's off to the Home and the Oldies and a decent Christmas lunch from the new chef du jour.

The Chef is actually a nurse at the Home but loves cooking.

This is his first Christmas Dinner and I keep reminding him about Basil Fawlty and the gourmet dinner that went terrribly wrong.

Bad Santa has nothing on me.

Are we there yet?

Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a louse.

I know that's not the right word but in our house it was. The ex had the bad luck to be born on Christmas Eve and he rarely saw a sober Christmas Eve, Day or Boxing day.

I wish him a Happy Birthday and hope Blondie has all her 13 grandchildren tomorrow to trash the house and wipe him out.  I wonder if he still has a BBQ on Boxing Day? I always had a hose hooked up to the tap the minute I smelled smoke.  His preferred method of 'barbie-ing was to start with a 20 foot flame and reduce all to ashes including the food. The actual BBQ was moved several times over the years but the wind always managed to fill the house with smoke.  It finished up at the front of the house near the patio where I could watch from inside until the flames dwindled and it was safe to take food near him.  

The year after he bolted with The Blonde (bottle), New Year's Eve to be precise, I was looking out of that same window and wondering what was annoying me.  Grey, black and rusting BBQ right in my line of vision. The only use it had been in the year was to illegally burn the miles of dried ivy I'd ripped off the walls. Rather spectacular in the middle of the night, all those flames but I was holding the hose.  So New Year's Day out I went with a sledge hammer and started to wallop the barbie into bits. Well, who knew the concrete was laced with steel mesh.  The BOH dropped by and took equal delight in reducing the eyesore to pieces.  I carted the rubble down to the corner where his compost bins had stood and never composted, just stank and made a dry wall, filling it with climbing geraniums.  They're still there but the lemon tree has delusions of being a giant redwood and is so big I haven't been behind it since I took off my toenail with the wheelie bin. 

Santa, Baby, I really could use a chainsaw for Christmas.

The Christmas hurt

I don't usually hurt myself until Boxing Day  but I started early this year.  Yesterday I walked to the bus and walked Southland and realized how out of condition I am. 

So I decided to walk to the bus again today to see mother, drop off sister's present and the BOH's.  I mean this is my sister, wrap the present, take it down to the Home so she can pick it up on Christmas Day after her hospital shift and this is after I've walked Southland to buy it.  To top it off, I rolled up and signed in at 12.30, noting that she had signed in at 11.20 except I had misread the time and we were both there together so it was rip-tear the paper and toss the bow aside.  Lovely perfume, yummy, thank you Mum. I have dibs on the Estee gold box. 

Where was I about the hurting part?  Strange dream this morning, very strange since the house was clean and devoid of furniture.  My mobile phone was ringing and I was searching everywhere for it.  Light bulb goes off, it's on the beside table and I roll over to get it. I'm still dreaming, remember. And I promptly fall out of bed straight down on my knees. Boy, did I wake up then. Apart from the pain in the knees, I was so lucky not to have smacked my chin on the side table. I must have been right on the edge of the bed and the turning over dumped me on the floor. 

I want applause for still walking to the bus, very slow walking but walking.  Made it on to the bus, made it off without pain only to trip on the only tile in the newsagent that was slightly out of line with the others. Not to worry the counter broke my fall.  Managed to get to the next shop and buy two gorgeous dark crimson reindeer in a matte finish with gold antlers.  Out of that shop safely only to be almost run down crossing the road by two little old ladies in the most enormous black 4x4. I swear the one driving could barely see above the steering wheel. They looked like two kids who'd swiped Dad's car.  Even the bloke beside me blasphemed a Christmas message as the wheels nearly took his feet off.

Now I'm home, I'm staying home, you couldn't even get me to the pub after today and that's a first for me.

Christmas Cloud

This wonderful cloud called a Kelvin-Helmholtz instability, appeared over Birmingham, Alabama this week.
The name is a combination from Lord Kelvin - a Scottish baron who along with German physicist Hermann Helmholtz - came up with an explanation for the freak occurrence.

It's also called a wave cloud and occurs in regions with vast plains where winds quickly change speed creating turbulence.  A fast -moving lighter density cloud, usually a layer of Cirrus cloud, slides on top of a slower, thicker layer, dragging out the surface and creating a wave rolling over water effect.

For more lovely clouds here's the site to visit.

Let's Parteeee

The party went swingingly well.  I've never seen the day room so crowded and it was the best Christmas party yet.  The staff handed food around during the entertainment and given the amount of booze the residents went for, I'd say it was very quiet last night.
Usually the entertainment is on first then food but this way it was much better as it filled in the time and no-one got restless.  The nurses had cooked most of the food themselves so it was nice and fresh and the only fail was the salmon mousse on cucumber slices which they didn't recognize as food. I gave it a top pass, they were delicious. The nurses were great as they bought out the mushed food that some residents can swallow and fed them at the same time so they didn't feel as though they were missing out.


The BOH picked me up around 6.30 and was wearing a nice new shirt.  First time in 20 years, his father managed to remember he wasn't 12 years old nor an XXXL size, he did forget to remove the price tag though.  BOH came home about midnight, said hello, had a swig of coca cola from the fridge and without a word disappeared again. I still haven't seen him but he never drives when he's been drinking so he's probably sleeping on someone's floor.  The thing is, I now have another car in the drive. Datsun is missing, station wagon is missing, black ute is at the factory with a big 'For Sale' sign but a little blue car has taken their place.
Silver ute is still here, owner hasn't stumped up the cash for the polishing job.  Sometimes I feel as though I'm living in that computer game, "Gone in 60 Seconds".  He'll turn up eventually, green around the gills. He, like myself, did not inherit the family gene for booze tolerance.

Sheeee's Baaack!



The new painkillers are working a treat.  Not even the lifting machine is hurting and that goes underneath the arms.  Of course it doesn't fix the problem, that will keep growing but at least she won't know about it until the next bout of pain. She's back making  Christmas cards and enjoying herself.  The only change is that she no longer wants to mix with the other residents as much and she doesn't mind not going down to the shops for a coffee or lunch.  She doesn't have to go anywhere for supplies, she has enough to rival Hallmark.  Will we get another year? Sister says very doubtful as she's done some research on this kind of pain and it usually means the lung is affected but she doesn't want to know and we don't want to have the job of telling her.

And tomorrow is the residents Christmas Party.  I was volunteered again to help out, I can't think who does that for me.  I try not to open my mouth at all.  And non-alcholic booze in case I fall over a walker.  I bought a bottle for my own little Christmas, I like the taste of sparkling cuvee but I hate getting sloshed and feeling as though my tongue is dragging on the ground. I do not have the family tolerance for booze.  A half dozen cans of VB for my sister is just gargling water.  One stubby of Cascade Light at the pub and I can't sit on the stool watching the pokie wheels go round without hanging on to whoever is next to me and it's never a good looking bloke.

So Tungsten Tessie lives for another Christmas, third one at the Home, 6th one since the experts said she might get one.  My mother and cockroaches, last ones standing after an A-bomb.  



I heart Doc Marvin

What else can you say about a doctor that leaves his home number beside a patient's name to be called immediately if needed?

Mum is now on one 24 hour slow release pain tablet plus Endone, paracetamol and morphine injection if the pain gets a hold. He was firm about asking for the morphine, insisting that she mustn't have to endure any discomfort.

So I'm off to the Home again and every day until the pain control kicks in or the cancer comes to the fore.  When she's out of bed and in the chair again with the cards and glue then I'll be relieved but at the moment I can't see that happening.  But she wants to make a card for the Doc so I printed out some great images of Marvin the Martian and we can make a start on the card today.

She was relieved when I said I'd be down today. She was in so much pain yesterday and I could see it in her face and she's a little frightened.  And my sister was almost in tears when she rang and caught me at Southland (I was on my way down) and that is a bad sign for old "I don't care what happens" sister.

All I want for Christmas is for a peaceful goodbye if that's the way it has to be. She deserves that.

Revolving motors

I'm really trying to get used to this new blogger interface but I hate change unless it's a change in chocolate brands.

So changes.......

I'm impatiently waiting for mail so I've been out looking at least 3 times already.

I hear the bvroom of the Datsun in the carport as it shoots off.  I'm up to my ears sorting out a trillion of his socks for the washer so don't wonder that he doesn't come in. He must be busy, please let him be earning money for once.

Out for another mail check, gates are shut.  Strange, he usually leaves them open for the precious 'built from scratch' Datsun to come back.  Turn head, do double take as I now have a shiny silver ute in the carport.  Down to the gate, silver station wagon is still there but black ute has gone.  Come to think of it, when did I see the black ute last? Wednesday?  Cue senior's moment.

Considering the money, work, sweat and tears that have gone into the little Datsun, I may well kill him if he's sold it or worse, exchanged it for a shiny silver ute.  I may be jumping the gun here, jumping to conclusions or just jumping.  There could be blood on the moon tonight.

Update: Datsun is back in carport. Silver ute is here to be polished. Black Ute is sitting somewhere with a big "For Sale" sign on it. And the BOH has just driven the station wagon back to work. He lives another day.

Christmas suddenly doesn't feel that close.



One afternoon tea down and very nice it was.  I thought I was holding the wine well until I discovered that it was non-alchoholic.  It was also a farewell for one of the carers who was the first to look after Mum.  Usually I'm alone or trying to be alone with mum so I haven't had a chance to really take stock of the residents and I was a bit shocked to see how much they've gone downhill in the last six months.  This will be my 3rd Christmas Dinner at the Home, time really does fly when you aren't having fun.

The old girl isn't too good at the moment.  Plenty of drugs, enough to keep a rockband happy but the left arm is not responding to the painkillers.  Left side,mastectomy and nasty lymph nodes taken out but they left a few that looked good. I have a feeling they are now turning bad.  She was in bed this afternoon after helping with the mini Christmas trees for the dining tables and she was using her left hand and arm, doing something quite different to her usual cards and mess when the pain struck sharply and suddenly.

She doesn't even want to mix with the other residents which is not like her.  Admittedly they are hard going to talk to when feeling well let alone when in pain.  Her voice sounded unusually weak but was strong enough to tell me to be there Saturday to help clean up her craft boxes again.

But she forgot to say anything about bringing a cake.

It's beginning to feel a lot like Crapmas

The world is getting weird particularly my world. My mother wears a colostomy bag and I do the fiddly things that have to be done for her difficult condition. It's an hour of my life I'll never get back and my fingers hurt because I have to roll up the bottom with a stick strip and fold over, making sure the fold over bits go to the outside. TMI, sorry, it's life.

So to make things easier because the nursing staff just throw the whole lot into the hazardous waste and never open the bottom with the sticky strip, I thought I would ring the Ostomy Association and get exactly the same bag without a bottom sticky strip opening. No, they're not allowed to change the bags on my say so. I have to ring the District Nursing Service, who rings the stomal therapist, who rings the nursing home, who rings the doctor and then she makes an appointment to thoroughly go through mother's records etc. I know more about my mother's unusual condition than any stomal therapy nurse anywhere. I ring mother with the bad news (for me) and she said "no, bloody hell no". I thought she'd forgotten how to swear, she's always telling me off. "I hate those know-it-all bitches. You keep folding the ends."

She then tells me that she needs to buy a TENS re-chargable unit for the pain in her shoulders. She says it makes her comfortable, my sister says it's all in her head. The Home physiotherapist was going to order it but decided for some reason that I should do it and handed everything over to mum. So I'm going to walk in there with something that has to be charged like a cell phone and could give her heart a jolt if it's not okay but I can't walk in and hand over a plastic excrement bag, ostomy not my sister. I will take it to the office where it will be checked and re-checked by the electrician but I want to know why it's my job not the physiotherapist's. Her excuse was the high cost of the unit and she wanted me to be responsible.

The only joyous part of this morning was getting a parcel I've been waiting for except it was my address but not my name. Bless a company that put a phone number on the return and it turns out it is for 73 just up the street. It'll take me five minutes and I'll count that as my 30 minute day walk.

I tell you, the siren call of the soothing gin is getting stronger.