How to build an ark

Three weeks without posting on my blog. I've set a record-and not in a good way, either!!

And where have I been? Well-it's been raining. And raining. And raining. And, as much as I used to like the rain (I live in England, so I'd better like rain!!), it hasn't been my friend since 2010. When it rains, I fall over. And I don't see very well. So, I very nearly fell in front of a bus a couple of times. That was scary; I would have come to a very sticky end (literally), and someone would have had the unfortunate job of scraping me off the road with a spatula. Moving buses? There is no way to win that fight.

So I lay low, and I only went out when I had to-which was nearly every day, because during October all I did was see consultants, and physiotherapists-what a very boring month! And a wet one, too. I rang my nurse to ask him to google building an ark-because it was beginning to look like that was the way to go. And, wouldn't you know it, there are pages of instructions on how to build an ark? There are also many arguments about how long it took Noah to build his, and who helped him...the usual ridiculousness. But ark-building? There it was. I had to laugh. My nurse thought I was nuts. Whatever.

I did take myself to Starbucks (where else?) to get a coffee. It stopped raining (this morning) long enough for me to do that. And I sat there and had to listen to these two plonkers having a discussion at top volume (they clearly thought they were the only ones in the café). I looked at them and I thought to myself: Guardian readers. They must be Guardian readers. And I'll bet they don't work, either-so they are unemployed Guardian readers.

The Guardian is a very right-wing tabloid-well, a half a step up from a tabloid, since whoever writes their drivel actually uses words of more than one syllable (two syllables. More than that would cause such a strain their eyes would bleed).Those who "write" (for want of a better word) just spew bile everywhere. Like the tabloids (the Mail, the Express, the Mirror, the Sun, and all those whose value only extends as far as house training your pet), the Guardian takes itself very seriously. Sadly, so do its readers!!

These two are having this discussion (Guardian readers. God forbid they call anything what it really is: an argument!). They then proceeded to wave the paper around, pointing to it so we all could see that it was-the Guardian! What a shock that wasn't. And they started having a debate about Jews (they hate Jews), and blacks (ditto), and Asians-they hate just about everyone. Then they started on the USA-which, according to their infinite wisdom (??), is responsible for every problem everywhere in the world. The NHS is imploding? Our fault. The world is coming to an end? Yep, clearly our fault.
Plagues, illiteracy in this country, poverty-must be us.

So finally I had enough. I got up, and walked near them, crutch in hand-and as I passed their table, I stopped and looked at them. In my absolute best fake local accent (not bad at times-especially this time), I said:" you have both positively confirmed a suspicion I've had for years. Actually, you proved it as absolute, concrete, unshakeable fact." Before they could ask what I was talking about, I then said: "You proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the plural of brain-dead ignoramus is- the BRITISH!".

Luckily (for me) two women with a load of little kiddies were coming in the door as I was leaving, so they didn't come after me. But I smiled as I left, and I can tell you, I felt quite smug. Not only that, I got home without nearly falling over-so I should tell people off more often-but only if they are smaller than me. These two were-about three times my size. Their fists on my face would not be a good look.

So that was my three week hiatus-and I finally gave in and ordered a new computer with a larger screen. No more hiding from rain and crappy weather, waiting for my eyes to clear.

And it is Halloween!! This is one holiday of ours that seems to have caught on. So, Happy Halloween. I've got too much to say to have no chance to say it (I know that's terrible grammar and syntax, but hey, I live in the UK. It's not as if anybody would know the difference!!).

Life is difficult...blah,blah, blah-and then it isn't

Life is difficult...that is the first line of a popular book of many years ago. The author made millions-and then dropped dead of cancer. So much for his life being difficult. Is there a point to this? Not really...it is just an observation - and has it ever been difficult!!

In these two weeks I decided that, technologically speaking, I must be the kiss of death. After I last posted, I went along to see the chest consultant, Lieske, at the chest hospital. She was surprisingly cordial-and I was very surprised. Maybe she got laid the night before, who knows? She certainly was cheerful! And I was weighed and found that I had put on nearly ten pounds since the whole GP/dietician "she is going to develop osteoporosis" thing. I asked Lieske if I could put that much weight on in one week-and she reminded me that I was taking the noxious ProCal Shots that were prescribed. Yuck.

Those were enough to make anybody really make an effort to increase carbs, fats, sugars-anything to avoid drinking stuff that came in two flavors: bad and worse. The banana has never seen a banana-and the strawberry-well, how nasty can it get? Really nasty is the answer. And-I am one of those unlucky people (most of us, probably) who can just look in the direction of food and gain weight. Honestly-I don't eat sugary stuff because I might just as well put it right on my hips. If they all thought I was much too thin, they weren't looking at my hips, that's for sure!

So-I sat outside in Outpatients, and after I endured being weighed, I leaned over to tie my shoelace-and my IPhone leapt out of my pocket and smashed on the concrete floor. Goodbye, touch screen. Did I ever swear!! Luckily nobody was sitting nearby. I could have cried. I jumped through hoops and risked life and limb to go to the Apple store in Covent Garden on a Saturday morning-now THAT is taking one's life in one's hands, even for an able-bodied person. I felt like a sardine in a tin of sardines-but I went, got my phone, was perfectly happy, and then-bang, wallop, touch screen smashed. So I rang the Orange customer service people and arranged for a replacement.

I was blessed with a lecture on dropping the phone and how it was going to cost me excess, even though I was paying an arm and two legs for insurance. So I complained. And-if you don't ask, you don't get. Remember that. Always make as big a fuss as you can. After I spent about ten minutes telling the person how I think Orange and T-Mobile totally suck, the charge was waived. And Orange and T-Mobile do suck. They merged, called themselves EE (Everything Everywhere), but the masts in my area have been down for five months, making it NN (Nothing Nowhere). So I got my way. Good for me, too.

When I decided to post about the delightful, underwhelming and unedifying week I had-my computer wouldn't work. It gave me the finger. It said that the hard disk had been corrupted. So that is why I said that I am-technologically speaking, of course-the kiss of death. First the phone, now the computer.Eeek.

I did everything. I unplugged. I switched off (and it didn't want to switch off). I did everything but kick the thing, and it still gave me the message that the drive was corrupted. Now I wanted to cry. I didn't -but I certainly wanted to, because I could see having to spend hundreds of pounds on a new laptop. I felt like throwing up. So I went through the week, did all the doctor and exercise stuff, and every time I walked past my laptop I looked at it mournfully, accusingly, balefully-I felt so morose, I cannot tell you. Not that it did any good - because it didn't.

Around the corner is a computer shop, and I went in to ask Jamal, the owner, what could be wrong. I could see him almost rubbing his hands at the thought of how much he could charge me (Jamal is not known for his honesty). He insisted that I bring the machine in, and that he would "only" charge me forty pounds to have a look-he charges sixty-five, but for me he would give me a discount. Sure. I said I would bring it in-I hope he isn't still waiting!!

So-yesterday I had to go back to Stanmore to see the consultant. And during the night (I'm an insomniac-I get the best ideas in the middle of the night), it suddenly occurred to me that I had a plug-in for the new wireless keyboard and wireless mouse. These allow me to see more easily, since my balance and vision have worsened markedly since the first operation in May-and I hadn't unplugged the widget (to use a technical term) from the USB port. Before I left for Stanmore, I unplugged the thing, sent a prayer to the gods of computers and technology-or whoever, or whatever-and wouldn't you know, the computer started and was absolutely fine. And I saved myself what would probably have turned out to be a fortune.

Obviously I am not the technological kiss of death I thought I was. In fact, that wasn't bad. Not at all. It only took me two weeks of muttering and staring disconsolately at the deceased (no longer) laptop to figure it out.

And I am now on a single crutch-yippee. Not only that, but I went for physiotherapy this morning, and I've been told I can return to the gym. I have to start with all the easy stuff (sure. Do I ever do anything the easy way? Not likely). But I can return to something that resembles a normal (ish) life.

And I bought an IPhone cover called a Ballistic cover-lots of rubber, so it should protect the phone even if I drop it out the window. Heh-chance will be a fine thing.

I went to Starbucks yesterday, before I had to go to Stanmore. A little celebratory cappuccino-and a man came up behind me and asked if he could get the door for me. This is England-I rather expected him to slam it on me-but he held it for me, I thanked him, he said I was welcome, and then went on his way. Miracles do happen-even though they happen rarely here.

I've said that it's easier finding hen's teeth than it is to find people who have manner, class, breeding-and intelligence. I've been in this country for so many years, I stand by that (just live here for awhile if you don't believe me. I've seen tailors' dummies with more life and brains than most of the people I encounter here). But- every once in a great while I meet someone who actually is different.

I have a feeling that one day I might even meet a male who has both a penis and a brain. Maybe.