Wednesday, January 13, 2010
I don't want any more.
There are days when you start to wonder if you can take any more.
For some that might have been the reaction to waking and finding another 2 or 3 inches of snow lying on the top of the crisp icy snow of last week.
Much as I do long to see green grass again, the snow didn't worry me and I enjoyed the walk to the Post Office with a dozen parcels.
I'm not sure how quickly the parcels will continue on their journeys.
But at least we had done our bit right and so had Sandra, the Post Office lady, at the local shop.
People had been asking Sandra why she bothered to get to work - and it had been an awkward journey.
Bless her! Sandra feels responsibility to her customers.
If an old person had made the effort to get to the Post office in need of some money, then Sandra felt she should be there.
Likewise, when I wondered if she might leave early. Sandra shook her head - if somebody came in to cash a Giro cheque for much needed cash after she had left, she would have felt so bad about it.
So, its not the snow that is bothering me.
It's the antibiotics.
I have just one more tablet to take and then I have promised my digestion that it can start to feel settled again.
I have had enough.
Let's hope that I don't find some of the recurring troubles returning after the tablets are no longer keeping things under control.
Tonight I feel quite rough.
I shall get to bed soon.
I will just comment further about my writings last evening.
This was prompted by Roger.
I can't imagine how I ever stated that Dad didn't write.
He even managed to produce an autobiography - finishing the last chapter during the day that he died.
I often have plans to write my autobiography - but I don't follow through.
I guess that sentence is my autobiography - lots of plans, not followed through!
But I would like a solid book of writings - what I am doing now is rather ephemeral.
And it is true that maybe Mum would have written more - but in the 1950s a young wife and mother had a full time job in the home.
We all write differently. Roger records things as they are. I record how things affect me.
Both my words and photographs attempt to reflect who I am and how each episode of life tells a further little story of what is my autobiography.
I didn't take a camera out with me this morning in the snow - I didn't feel there was anything to add to the snow story just now.
The computer doctor battled through and looked at Bill's computer. It was felt that there was a hard drive problem. Bill has now ordered one from Amazon. The computer man was able to get the computer doing enough for Bill to retrieve information to save.
I don't really trust the computer doctor - for how would we ever know if what he says is right?
But at least this one didn't try to sell anything to Bill.
And in conversation we had learned that he has been a computer freak for 30 years, having one of the very first ZX80's before moving on to the Electron which he just can't throw away.
Surely that makes him a good egg!
That's it. I want to go and sleep. Good night.
Bill's just looked at the calendar - bother, I have a dentist's appointment in the morning!
For some that might have been the reaction to waking and finding another 2 or 3 inches of snow lying on the top of the crisp icy snow of last week.
Much as I do long to see green grass again, the snow didn't worry me and I enjoyed the walk to the Post Office with a dozen parcels.
I'm not sure how quickly the parcels will continue on their journeys.
But at least we had done our bit right and so had Sandra, the Post Office lady, at the local shop.
People had been asking Sandra why she bothered to get to work - and it had been an awkward journey.
Bless her! Sandra feels responsibility to her customers.
If an old person had made the effort to get to the Post office in need of some money, then Sandra felt she should be there.
Likewise, when I wondered if she might leave early. Sandra shook her head - if somebody came in to cash a Giro cheque for much needed cash after she had left, she would have felt so bad about it.
So, its not the snow that is bothering me.
It's the antibiotics.
I have just one more tablet to take and then I have promised my digestion that it can start to feel settled again.
I have had enough.
Let's hope that I don't find some of the recurring troubles returning after the tablets are no longer keeping things under control.
Tonight I feel quite rough.
I shall get to bed soon.
I will just comment further about my writings last evening.
This was prompted by Roger.
I can't imagine how I ever stated that Dad didn't write.
He even managed to produce an autobiography - finishing the last chapter during the day that he died.
I often have plans to write my autobiography - but I don't follow through.
I guess that sentence is my autobiography - lots of plans, not followed through!
But I would like a solid book of writings - what I am doing now is rather ephemeral.
And it is true that maybe Mum would have written more - but in the 1950s a young wife and mother had a full time job in the home.
We all write differently. Roger records things as they are. I record how things affect me.
Both my words and photographs attempt to reflect who I am and how each episode of life tells a further little story of what is my autobiography.
I didn't take a camera out with me this morning in the snow - I didn't feel there was anything to add to the snow story just now.
The computer doctor battled through and looked at Bill's computer. It was felt that there was a hard drive problem. Bill has now ordered one from Amazon. The computer man was able to get the computer doing enough for Bill to retrieve information to save.
I don't really trust the computer doctor - for how would we ever know if what he says is right?
But at least this one didn't try to sell anything to Bill.
And in conversation we had learned that he has been a computer freak for 30 years, having one of the very first ZX80's before moving on to the Electron which he just can't throw away.
Surely that makes him a good egg!
That's it. I want to go and sleep. Good night.
Bill's just looked at the calendar - bother, I have a dentist's appointment in the morning!
