Perseverance is a superpower...

 We made it through Christmas. We made it through three difficult years. The first two-for me, anyway, were a little complicated by Covid, a flooded property, having lung problems, and, mainly, dealing with the landlord, who clearly couldn't care less if I died. 

Imagine their surprise-and obvious disappointment-when they discovered that I'm not so easy to kill. And there's the lesson: perseverance is a superpower. Perseverance. Persistence. Obstinacy. The refusal to give up if there is even a remote chance of winning (and survival).

Every time I hit an obstacle, I get up and keep going, no matter how ready I am to quit. I will never quit-unless, of course, I have done everything I could, explored all alternatives, and realize that I have to stop somewhere.

I look back at the cripplers-Hilary Longhurst, Sophia Grigoriadou, Phil (not so) Bright, and the son of Satan Matthew Buckland-and I realize that the anger and hatred I felt because they were (and probably still are) incompetent and negligent, nearly killing me-I realize that my feelings propelled me forward. I had the choice of being crippled for the rest of my life, in a wheelchair, having to have someone wash me and wipe my backside, unable to walk or do anything of any value-or fighting back. I decided to fight back. They wouldn't win. And they haven't won. I'm the one who's won.

Everyone knows how terrible the past six or seven months have been; my massive mistake was getting involved with tenants who are incapable of doing anything on their own. I did everything, and, in the end, they screwed me over and left me holding a bag of shit (the landlord again). It was certainly a learning experience-never to be repeated.

The biggest catastrophes-gentamicin, breast cancer, lung and heart difficulties, and, of course, dealing with people who have the intelligence of a door handle and the maturity of a two year old-all carry within them some value, something to examine and learn from, something that  will teach us if we only stop long enough to stop being afraid, or angry, or filled with hatred, stop panicking, stop giving up...

I'll be taking these thoughts with me into the new year. I've said every December for the past-I don't even remember how many years-that I refuse to take the previous year's stress. anxieties, fears, angers and basic bullshit into the next year. No more carryovers! I've said that; now let's see if I do it.

I'll keep you updated on my progress. I'm the procrastination queen, remember, so that will be something huge to tackle. But-I've tacked worse, so that's another item for my to do list.

Have you made any new year's resolutions? I always do-and then I break them within the first week-sometimes within the first day (or three). No resolutions, only the desire (and intention) to live life differently in 2023. Use what I've learned. Apply what I've learned. Perseverance and determination.  

I might not always win-but I will never lose.

Happy New Year. Live. Laugh. Love. Be happy. And never, ever give up.

About that turkey

 Whoever thought that I would be blogging on the morning of Christmas Eve? Actually-I did. I went to Marks & Spencer to get a turkey. It was only a few days ago, so I didn't get caught in the crush of people waiting until the last minute to decide that they really should go and buy food for Christmas. 

That was yesterday. There were so many people, you'd think that there was a famine. Everyone was crushing everyone else, tempers were flaring, one woman was shouting that there wasn't a single chicken in the supermarket-and there was nearly a fist fight. So I left, obviously. I couldn't help but wonder what they were going to start throwing at each other.

When I looked the other day, I saw that a small turkey-and I mean "small": a little over 1kg (about two pounds) cost £50. That's £50!! So I decided that the chicken I have in the freezer will do very nicely. I'll do what I did at Thanksgiving: wave my hand over it and pronounce it a turkey.

The reason I actually risked my life and limb yesterday to go to the supermarket was to buy batteries for my clock. My clock will have to wait until Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Easter.

I didn't get near enough yesterday to see anything I would have wanted. But the other day, it was early morning and I saw a lot of frozen turkeys. Hmmm...

Now frozen turkeys: how long have they been frozen? Since before the onset of the avian flu? I hope? Are they old enough to cause freezer burn? 

It occurred to me that a frozen turkey would make the perfect weapon. Anyone upsets you or winds you up, just turn around and whack them in the head. And when they go down (come on, it's a frozen turkey. Do keep up. Then when they're down, hit them again and tell them to stay down. A few smacks in the head with a frozen turkey, and someone will decide to behave. Or call an ambulance. Whatever.

Imagine having to go to court because you hit some deserving person with a frozen turkey. And the judge asks you to explain. You say that it was an accident, because the turkey was frozen and, therefore, slippery. How many times was it slippery? Three? No, the last time you aimed, you missed.

The judge asks what you did with the turkey. You reply that you cooked it and ate it?

You ate the turkey? asks the judge. And you turn and look at the judge very sternly and reply: Of course we ate it. Have you seen the price of turkeys?

So, on that note, let me wish everyone a very Merry Christmas. Like I said last time, calories don't count (yeah, right!). Enjoy, don't let anyone upset you (like  I do the other 364 days of the year), and, if in doubt, go out and buy a frozen turkey. 

Nearly down to the wire...

 Anyone else look back look back at nearly three years when our lives changed and the pandemic became more than just a word-but a thing? And a lethal thing, at that?

People suddenly became nicer, and helpful-and, of course, we all knew that wouldn't last. Now we're allegedly out of the woods, everyone is back to being as ratty as they were before lockdown. My friend in Dublin wrote and reminded me that people really suck. She's a nurse, so she has seen just about everything. 

All the turkeys that haven't been killed by the outbreak of avian flu are in the shops now. I went to my favorite (Marks & Spencer) and saw a small one - only £50!! What?? So I'm reconsidering-chicken, maybe, or even something vegetarian. When I see footage of abattoirs, I feel really sick. This is a good time to start eating my veggies...

I heard from a couple of people who have been viciously verbally attacked by those people I told you about... and that's another good reason for moving. There's nothing I can do about it. And I still don't know any more about twitter than I did the last time I wrote. I'll figure it out. 

We had enough rain to wash away all the snow and ice of last week. It's now around 9C, so I'm happy. I keep walking, and I just had my tenth acupuncture treatment yesterday. We might be able to stretch it to fifteen-but then we'll have to stop. Any physio treatments have a final date. And I have to say that acupuncture has helped the balance. I did say that I won't stop fighting the devastating diagnosis- so I'll see what the new year brings. I'm just happy that I'm still here and that I'm as healthy as I am.

Have a happy Christmas, everyone, and if I get drunk and disorderly (that really would be a miracle. And a first) and forget to write next week, a happy and healthy new year. Pandemic free.

Remember that over the Christmas period, calories don't count. What the heck-we can all pay for the excesses in January...

Counting down the days to peace and quiet

 Excuse me-do what?? What is peace? And quiet? It's the week before Christmas, we had snow last weekend...that's what I said: snow. Lots of it. In London. Thanks, global warming. And with snow came the inevitable: ice. Lots of that, too.

I did manage to move just before the big snowstorm, so that was great. The side roads and pavements were sheets of ice-and even the main roads weren't cleared immediately. Side roads and pavements are still sheets of ice nearly a week later. The Brits aren't used to the winters we get in New York. Gritters and snow ploughs are mobilized at the first drops of snow. 

Not here, though. And with the NHS on its knees and thousands of nurses on strike, this is not a good time to fall on the ice (or anywhere) and break something. 

Nurses on strike. Postmen on perpetual strike (I haven't had a daily-or weekly-or monthly delivery of mail since the beginning of November). Trains and train drivers and employees are on strike. There are strikes at the airports. Did I leave anyone out? Isn't this a striking country!

I saw a group of postmen standing by one of the post offices-so I naturally had to go over to talk to them. Am I just nosy? Or is it natural curiosity and interest that motivates me to go and find out information-because the media is so full of misinformation that I usually ignore what I read and what I hear. So I walked over, having already stopped one of the local postmen I'd known for years and who was moved to another area.

I've now heard a lot of similar stories from the people who do all the heavy lifting: the front line postmen (and women) themselves. As much as I would like to start receiving mail-some of which is important- I had to say that I support them 100%. Everyone who is striking has a point: they're treated like crap, overworked and underpaid, and they do have a right to a pay rise that is in line with inflation. And inflation is astronomical-14% or more? I stopped listening at 14%. But government ministers are demanding pay raises-for doing nothing.

Go figure. You really couldn't make this up.

I tweeted about those odious people I told you about-at @limerabbit44 ... I must admit that I was expecting some kind of response from somewhere. Well-nothing. Very discouraging. And I was planning on moving anyway, so that was a plus. But now I think I need to do some research to find out how I can get the word out about them before they do more damage next week. I still keep in touch with some of the older people, so I get a clear view of what's going on. But it's frustrating when I know that there's nothing more I can do.

It should be getting warmer today: up to 0C (32F). An absolute heat wave. So it'll be unpacking, cleaning, staying out of trouble (seriously), and doing more tweeting when I can figure out my next move.

I'm pretty sure that I will be posting again before Christmas. But, in the unlikely event that we have another blizzard, it might be a bit later. In any case, happy holidays to everyone.

Eat lots, drink lots, stay out of trouble if you can (I know, this is me talking!), and remember that between now and New Year's calories don't count. 

Festive greetings from @Limerabbit44

 I dipped my toe into the Twitter water-after years of staying away. But hey, If Musk is allowing anyone and everyone to be a card-carrying Twit-might as well join the party.

Whether I did the right thing is a matter of debate. But I posted twice, and nobody seems to have noticed. So I wonder if I'm supposed to let everyone I know that I'm now on Twitter? I did tell you that I'm brand new at this. I can say that I've got a friend who works for the council, and when I told her that I wrote Terry Baster's address-Lorna Shannon's too- my friend nearly fainted. She's afraid for me. So now I'm afraid for me. And I'm so fed up with the idiots and crazies that I've decided to move back up the hill to the area I lived in before. Much nicer and more stable people, too. I know it's London, but nevertheless...

I'm keeping track of the psycho Baster and his equally psycho group of bottom feeders, though. I know some of the tenants for years, I've seen what these cowardly bullies have done to them, so I told them to keep me informed. As they keep me informed, I'll keep you informed. My hope for the really decent people I met who just want to live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet is that someone will pay the bottom feeding low lifes a visit and tell them to leave everyone else alone. I'm not advocating violence, but...how would you feel if it was your granny or granddad being threatened (especially if they're in their 90s)? Hmmm. You see my dilemma. 

I did find that on Twitter there are people who post just anything. So I'm navigating to see if there's anything interesting. Like I said: at the moment I'm just a toe-dipper.

I hope that everyone had a terrific Thanksgiving. I did an epic eight mile route march on Wednesday, searching in vain for a turkey. They don't come out until December (Thanksgiving is our holiday, after all). I found a chicken that looked like it had died of old age-so I decided to have a deli chicken from Marks & Spencer. I waved my hand over it and pronounced it a turkey (of course I'm only joking. Maybe). A trad Thanksgiving (but with chicken), and it was quiet but very lovely. I contacted all my friends and family and spent most of the day on the phone-and Zoom- and eating. 

The run-up to Christmas is something I've always found difficult. My friends echo this sentiment. My one friend would have had a big anniversary on Christmas Day, and I decided to file for a divorce just before Christmas-but wait to drop the bombshell until after it was over. Ewww-I should have just done it at the time.

I'm trying very hard to focus on all the things I've got, not the mistakes I've made or the time I've wasted. There will be more about that later-we've got three weeks until Christmas Day, so there's time to ruminate, be very pissed off, and get over it. 

So, until next time (which hopefully will be sooner rather than later), I'm going to nose around and find what I can buy as a Christmas present. For myself.