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Jul. 1st, 2007 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blackberry444I'm feeling rather low today. It's another dull overcast day, although the sun was out for a few minutes this morning, and it's threatening to rain again. There's a cold wind and Arthur is playing up, so I don't even feel as though I can go and play in the yard.
John's done something horrible to his back and needs help getting in and out of bed. He won't, however, consent to taking any co-codamol, using my hot pad, or having a hot water bottle. I don't know exactly what he did to it, but I suspect it's probably because he insisted on carrying on replacing an unsatisfactory piece of skirting board in the bathroom, involving lots of bending over and manipulating things in small spaces even after his back started to hurt. I don't really know what was wrong with the original skirting board except that there was a minute gap a blind man would have liked to see.
Charles is staying in his room, because, I think, he's fed up. I know he's bored, but he won't agree to do any of the things I suggested we might do together. I know it's not personal, but it feels a bit as though everyone's sulking, even the cats. I haven't seen Bramble at all today, and Phoebe doesn't even want to come and look out of my window.
Charles has just been in here to loom over me for no apparent reason, presumably in case I'm not feeling miserable or bored enough! I've suggested playing a game, doing stuff in the yard, even though my knees are bad, or watching a DVD or anything he likes, really. I've suggested he go for a walk in the park to which he replied "What? And get stabbed?". It's true that there have been several stabbings round here recently but I don't think they happen in the day-time. He doesn't want to talk about it, so there doesn't seem to be anything else I can do.
I would quite like to sit quietly and read my book, but if I sit in the comfy chair with a book, I just know that I'll be asleep in five minutes and I want to be able to sleep tonight. I've also got a headache I seem to have had for days, and I know that if I drop off in the chair I'll wake up with a much worse headache. Anyway, I have to go downstairs before long to scrub the inside container of the rubbish bin, and I shall also have to scrub the inside of the outside, because that is so disgusting I can't bear to be in the same room as it. Charles usually deals with the rubbish and the bin because I find it too difficult to haul the bag out of it now that I'm such a weak and feeble waste of space. And he has been moaning about it for a long time, because it's really inconvenient. I keep looking for a new one, but the only ones I've seen which look anything like what he wants, turn out to be £70 to £80.
Lakeland has a spiffy new recycling box, but we simply don't have room for it. The utility room is absolutely horrible at the moment, but I have no strength or energy to deal with it properly.
I did manage to trim back the shrubs along the front path yesterday and John was going to take loads of stuff to the tip today, so I've got a barrow in the hall, full of philadelphus, showering blossom everywhere, ornamental currant and spirea, because I can't put it in the yard since it will certainly rain and make it unsuitable for transporting in Lucy; John's van needs some urgent surgery!
I may also be feeling a bit miserable on behalf of Adrian-next-door who is having problems with what may be a collapsed sewer. He's had Dynorod in several times this last week, which must have cost him a fortune and it now appears that there is some problem which will have to be excavated to a depth of 20 feet, with all the expensive measures against collapse which that will entail. They've given him an off-the-cuff quote of £40,000. Knowing Dynorod, it certainly won't be any less! I asked whether his insurance will cover it and he's not absolutely sure. Since the problem seems to be outside in the back alley, I would have thought that it would have been the water company's problem, but apparently it's not as simple as that. I seem to remember being told at some neighbourhood meeting that our property extended to halfway across the back alley so maybe that's something to do with it. I wish they'd let me do something with mine, if it's true. I could do with a garage.
I flushed the loo a couple of times while he looked down his inspection hatch, but we don't seem to be joined up to his drains, thank God. While I'm very sympathetic, I simply don't know what we would do if it were to turn out that we were responsible for part of the cost. I have suggested that he get quotes elsewhere, but he said he might do it himself. He prolly could too, if They'll allow him.
I've just had an idea. I'll get Charles to help me put the entire barrow with all the garden cuttings straight into Lucy's boot. It will stop the stuff getting wet and clear the mess out of the hall. It's not an actual barrow it's a sort of large plastic tub on two wheels which I bought from Aldi a couple of months ago and it's ideal for that kind of job as it holds lots of clippings. Well, when I say clippings, it's more like a huge double armful of 3 to 4 feet long philadelphus stems.
John has just hobbled in to say that he thinks he might borrow my hot-pad after all, as long as I don't tell anyone!
John's done something horrible to his back and needs help getting in and out of bed. He won't, however, consent to taking any co-codamol, using my hot pad, or having a hot water bottle. I don't know exactly what he did to it, but I suspect it's probably because he insisted on carrying on replacing an unsatisfactory piece of skirting board in the bathroom, involving lots of bending over and manipulating things in small spaces even after his back started to hurt. I don't really know what was wrong with the original skirting board except that there was a minute gap a blind man would have liked to see.
Charles is staying in his room, because, I think, he's fed up. I know he's bored, but he won't agree to do any of the things I suggested we might do together. I know it's not personal, but it feels a bit as though everyone's sulking, even the cats. I haven't seen Bramble at all today, and Phoebe doesn't even want to come and look out of my window.
Charles has just been in here to loom over me for no apparent reason, presumably in case I'm not feeling miserable or bored enough! I've suggested playing a game, doing stuff in the yard, even though my knees are bad, or watching a DVD or anything he likes, really. I've suggested he go for a walk in the park to which he replied "What? And get stabbed?". It's true that there have been several stabbings round here recently but I don't think they happen in the day-time. He doesn't want to talk about it, so there doesn't seem to be anything else I can do.
I would quite like to sit quietly and read my book, but if I sit in the comfy chair with a book, I just know that I'll be asleep in five minutes and I want to be able to sleep tonight. I've also got a headache I seem to have had for days, and I know that if I drop off in the chair I'll wake up with a much worse headache. Anyway, I have to go downstairs before long to scrub the inside container of the rubbish bin, and I shall also have to scrub the inside of the outside, because that is so disgusting I can't bear to be in the same room as it. Charles usually deals with the rubbish and the bin because I find it too difficult to haul the bag out of it now that I'm such a weak and feeble waste of space. And he has been moaning about it for a long time, because it's really inconvenient. I keep looking for a new one, but the only ones I've seen which look anything like what he wants, turn out to be £70 to £80.
Lakeland has a spiffy new recycling box, but we simply don't have room for it. The utility room is absolutely horrible at the moment, but I have no strength or energy to deal with it properly.
I did manage to trim back the shrubs along the front path yesterday and John was going to take loads of stuff to the tip today, so I've got a barrow in the hall, full of philadelphus, showering blossom everywhere, ornamental currant and spirea, because I can't put it in the yard since it will certainly rain and make it unsuitable for transporting in Lucy; John's van needs some urgent surgery!
I may also be feeling a bit miserable on behalf of Adrian-next-door who is having problems with what may be a collapsed sewer. He's had Dynorod in several times this last week, which must have cost him a fortune and it now appears that there is some problem which will have to be excavated to a depth of 20 feet, with all the expensive measures against collapse which that will entail. They've given him an off-the-cuff quote of £40,000. Knowing Dynorod, it certainly won't be any less! I asked whether his insurance will cover it and he's not absolutely sure. Since the problem seems to be outside in the back alley, I would have thought that it would have been the water company's problem, but apparently it's not as simple as that. I seem to remember being told at some neighbourhood meeting that our property extended to halfway across the back alley so maybe that's something to do with it. I wish they'd let me do something with mine, if it's true. I could do with a garage.
I flushed the loo a couple of times while he looked down his inspection hatch, but we don't seem to be joined up to his drains, thank God. While I'm very sympathetic, I simply don't know what we would do if it were to turn out that we were responsible for part of the cost. I have suggested that he get quotes elsewhere, but he said he might do it himself. He prolly could too, if They'll allow him.
I've just had an idea. I'll get Charles to help me put the entire barrow with all the garden cuttings straight into Lucy's boot. It will stop the stuff getting wet and clear the mess out of the hall. It's not an actual barrow it's a sort of large plastic tub on two wheels which I bought from Aldi a couple of months ago and it's ideal for that kind of job as it holds lots of clippings. Well, when I say clippings, it's more like a huge double armful of 3 to 4 feet long philadelphus stems.
John has just hobbled in to say that he thinks he might borrow my hot-pad after all, as long as I don't tell anyone!