And welcome to a healthier, brighter, blogger.
Yup, the health kick I mentioned in my last offering is going well, and paying dividends. More veg, no bread, and less reliance on tinned and pre-packaged meals, has meant I feel lighter, brighter, and, on the (very) odd occasion, strangely motivated. It makes for a pleasant change.
The question then becomes what to do with all this newfound energy. Do I expend it on long trundles in the cold winter mornings? Pick up a new hobby? Re-join the gym?
Yeah, you’re right, that last one was a joke.
As it happens, it’s a bit of a moot point at the mo, because the start of this week has been busy enough.
I mean, it started okay, but I soon fixed that.
I Do
The day then took a slight detour, namely a journey to the hospital to drop Jen and Evie (that’s my sister-in-law and my niece, respectively) off at casualty to have Evie’s dislocated foot manipulated back into place (said foot sitting at a roughly 45-degree angle to the rest of her leg, and not in a good way). After that I was free as the proverbial, but, of course, the rest of the week was less so.
No, I had made arrangements and appointments and those obligations needed to be honoured. The pans were first. The order I’d made was with a popular catalogue based retailer, and the nearest store that stocked the non-stick induction set I wanted was back in my native Leeds, some 15 miles away. It meant delivery was the sensible option. Getting up at 7am to open to door to the driver? Well, that seemed less sensible.
Wake Up Call
Not that I’m one to sleep in. No, I’m usually up and about the right side of 9am, even on days I don’t need to be. Seven o’clock in the morning, however, is a time I’ve not often seen since I retired from work. It’s fair to say the alarm that day was, well, alarming.
As with the way of these things, the pans were due to show up ‘some time between 7 and 10, so there was a chance my early morn might have been for nought. As it was, I was only up an hour before the knock came, so it was probably best I was up, breakfasted and dressed, especially for the driver.
The rest of the day was no less busy, either. We (that’s myself and my rather spiffing, but currently poorly wife, Tina) still had the shopping to pick up, and due to Tina’s tummy doing a fair impression of a washing machine taking a ride on the waltzers (and that includes the additional input from that guy who seems to be employed spin the already spinny things until your sick), I’d also picked up the bonus jobs of helping to put the stuff away, and cleaning out the cat boxes (we’d bought fresh litter, you see).
Now, as I say, I’m not one to lig (there’s one for the Yorkshire folk) in bed. I’m also not one to head back there once I’m up. The combination of an early start, and a busy day, might, therefore, have made me just a touch less of a ray of sunshine than normal. Of course, a streak of stubbornness also lies deep in my character, so poor Tina just had to cope with it. I wasn’t going back to bed.
New Car Smell
All of which brings us to today, and a task which I was looking forward to. The ordering of my new motor.
Being of the disabled persuasion, I’m eligible for the Motability scheme, wherein a new vehicle is provided every three years upon the paying of a (non-refundable) deposit and any notifications. It’s a good scheme, and one that means my life has a flexibility and utility it would otherwise lack.
The trip was a short one, and the process promised to be simple. All the paperwork has migrated to online order forms, filled out by the garage these days, and a signature or three when the car is picked up is about all the customer is expected to do. The guy I saw today even managed to get around the brain-fart that erased my national insurance number from my memory (I could recite it now. Backwards if you want).
So, yeah, in 30 minutes all the Ts had been crossed and the i’s suitably dotted, including the colour of the car, and the hand controls (bendy feet and peddles are not mixy things). All that remained was to agree a date to drop of f what I now think of as ‘the old car’ and pick up my new baby.
In June.
Wait For It
A way away, isn’t it? Especially when you factor in that most cars I’ve had on the scheme were ready in a matter of weeks (alright, five and a bit months can be measured in weeks, but you get the point). The fact is, Covid has meant that car manufacture has slowed, partially due to a shortage of steel, partly due to a shortage of workers, and partly because of the working restrictions that applied to us all (Boris). It’s meant a hold up in supply
Luckily, the powers that be at Motability are aware of this and, thanks to them (and the garage), I’m able to keep my present (old) car until then, something which will certainly make life easier. A wheelchair, after all, is no way to transport myself any real distance. Especially with Tina on my knee.
For some strange reason, I woke up that day wanting to get things done, which for those that know me will come as a massive shock. I am, after all, a man who can put the lazy into laissez-faire when I try (not too hard, you understand), so it even surprised me that, by lunch, I’d organised a visit to the garage to order my new car, booked a slot to pick up the shopping and filled 80% of the cart to boot. Oh, and bought some new pans as well. Weird, right?
The day then took a slight detour, namely a journey to the hospital to drop Jen and Evie (that’s my sister-in-law and my niece, respectively) off at casualty to have Evie’s dislocated foot manipulated back into place (said foot sitting at a roughly 45-degree angle to the rest of her leg, and not in a good way). After that I was free as the proverbial, but, of course, the rest of the week was less so.
No, I had made arrangements and appointments and those obligations needed to be honoured. The pans were first. The order I’d made was with a popular catalogue based retailer, and the nearest store that stocked the non-stick induction set I wanted was back in my native Leeds, some 15 miles away. It meant delivery was the sensible option. Getting up at 7am to open to door to the driver? Well, that seemed less sensible.
Wake Up Call
Not that I’m one to sleep in. No, I’m usually up and about the right side of 9am, even on days I don’t need to be. Seven o’clock in the morning, however, is a time I’ve not often seen since I retired from work. It’s fair to say the alarm that day was, well, alarming.
As with the way of these things, the pans were due to show up ‘some time between 7 and 10, so there was a chance my early morn might have been for nought. As it was, I was only up an hour before the knock came, so it was probably best I was up, breakfasted and dressed, especially for the driver.
The rest of the day was no less busy, either. We (that’s myself and my rather spiffing, but currently poorly wife, Tina) still had the shopping to pick up, and due to Tina’s tummy doing a fair impression of a washing machine taking a ride on the waltzers (and that includes the additional input from that guy who seems to be employed spin the already spinny things until your sick), I’d also picked up the bonus jobs of helping to put the stuff away, and cleaning out the cat boxes (we’d bought fresh litter, you see).
Now, as I say, I’m not one to lig (there’s one for the Yorkshire folk) in bed. I’m also not one to head back there once I’m up. The combination of an early start, and a busy day, might, therefore, have made me just a touch less of a ray of sunshine than normal. Of course, a streak of stubbornness also lies deep in my character, so poor Tina just had to cope with it. I wasn’t going back to bed.
New Car Smell
All of which brings us to today, and a task which I was looking forward to. The ordering of my new motor.
Being of the disabled persuasion, I’m eligible for the Motability scheme, wherein a new vehicle is provided every three years upon the paying of a (non-refundable) deposit and any notifications. It’s a good scheme, and one that means my life has a flexibility and utility it would otherwise lack.
The trip was a short one, and the process promised to be simple. All the paperwork has migrated to online order forms, filled out by the garage these days, and a signature or three when the car is picked up is about all the customer is expected to do. The guy I saw today even managed to get around the brain-fart that erased my national insurance number from my memory (I could recite it now. Backwards if you want).
So, yeah, in 30 minutes all the Ts had been crossed and the i’s suitably dotted, including the colour of the car, and the hand controls (bendy feet and peddles are not mixy things). All that remained was to agree a date to drop of f what I now think of as ‘the old car’ and pick up my new baby.
In June.
Wait For It
A way away, isn’t it? Especially when you factor in that most cars I’ve had on the scheme were ready in a matter of weeks (alright, five and a bit months can be measured in weeks, but you get the point). The fact is, Covid has meant that car manufacture has slowed, partially due to a shortage of steel, partly due to a shortage of workers, and partly because of the working restrictions that applied to us all (Boris). It’s meant a hold up in supply
Luckily, the powers that be at Motability are aware of this and, thanks to them (and the garage), I’m able to keep my present (old) car until then, something which will certainly make life easier. A wheelchair, after all, is no way to transport myself any real distance. Especially with Tina on my knee.
It all means biding my time. Waiting. But, after a fruitful few days, I guess I can wait. The ball has been put into motion, and the rest is now out of my hands. It’s time to accept that, and put my mind to more useful thoughts.
Now, does that kitchen need a tidy?
Until next time...
***
Hey, folks! If you would care to take a look at some of my more creative writing, then the links below will transport you to the magical worlds of two anthologies my short (and in one case, very short) stories have been included in. Feel free to check’em out!
Death Ship
Now, does that kitchen need a tidy?
Until next time...
***
Hey, folks! If you would care to take a look at some of my more creative writing, then the links below will transport you to the magical worlds of two anthologies my short (and in one case, very short) stories have been included in. Feel free to check’em out!
Death Ship
Reaperman
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Reaperman-Drabbles-3-Legends-Night-ebook/dp/B099NNPTQ1A
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