Post 193: I’ve got that Friday feeling.
Mr Vicious was calling me to be the breakfast chef, but I was still in bed.
The first direct rays of the sun were not yet over the distant primary academy, but the rain storms (Benjamin’s) that flooded the floodplain circling the town are gone. Today looks like it’ll be a good day weather-wise.
“Just one look at you”,
“and I know it’s gonna be”…
“( _ ______ ___ )” fill in those lyrics.
In three or four days there will be my favourite fungi, Hygrocybe (waxcaps), shooting up due to the rainfall — and I’m so excited to see some of these this season. I must hunt for them this coming week. Graveyards are the best place, yes really.
The two working guests were already gone from our house, leaving Jackie behind. I slowly descended the stairs in my electric chair, and by the time I reached the bottom I could see Jack had got the lounge TV on and was without a cuppa. Her tea-boat has sunk, as my Nan used to say. So I hopped off, and because the blinkin’ Cat was still calling, I had to head quickly towards the hungry and very demanding pet.
Jack followed me into the garage close by to the Mini-Cooper shed, and as she asked about what and how much Mr V needs to survive, I verbally took her through the process. She put out the food and now was Mummy Cat (and I was a mere narrator to my own life). Great, I thought — another willing volunteer for cat-sitting; such a shame she lives in County Meath. Ha-ha.
The kettle was on for a life-affirming cuppa now, and Jack and I were cat-ching up on the life and death issues of the family and the grief that still touches us all from time to time.
Did I tell you that Jack gave me a wrapped present yesterday? I don’t think I did. Well, I thanked Jack, and went to open it but in the next moment the gift was snatched from me by my Darling with a funny knowing look between the two sisters. I wandered off and made the tea, and my Darling returned by my side and ripped into the tissue wrapping whilst standing in front of me. In the next moment I saw a greeny-blue frame and a greeny-blue T-shirt with Our Kev proudly wearing it. “Let’s make Kev’s Bar great again,” was the logo.
My Darling squeaked and I bawled my eyes out for a few minutes.
I was really caught off guard and was uncontrollably happy and sad in equal measure. My Darling held my ever increasing waist and I tried unsuccessfully, to keep my emotions in check.
The gift was a cracking gift — a heartfelt gift of a snap of a much happier day, when Kev was Kev: a teaser, a joker and an all round good guy.
The gift now sits under the TV in a prominent position.
I should explain a few things about our Jackie while I’m about it. In all the years (38 in total), Auntie Jackie, as I prefer to call her, has been a constant through good times and bad. During COVID she couldn’t visit us but made up for it afterwards. She has no fear and comes over so regularly we don’t ask too many questions; we just make room while she’s here and we enjoy her company. Sadly, she still smokes, but one day she’ll give up and I’ll be healthier. Her gravelly voice gives her away as a long-time chimney pot, but other than that we love her and her six kids dearly.
Three of the kids are in Aussie land, including two of our godchildren. Kids they are not now — the eldest is 40 and the youngest 23-ish, so they’re all adults now. There are eight grandkids so far, and her eldest daughter is struggling these last couple of years to conceive a child and she and her lovely hubby J is having the hardest time, while her own sister has popped out four babies like shelling peas. Life is so cruel.
It’s Friday — 10 o’clock — and it’s not Crackerjack… but it is time for the weekly weigh-in followed by the café brunch, so my Darling made her excuses and disappeared down the road and into town.
Jack and I were halfway through a conversation when my Darling arrived back. She was in a big hurry for Jackie to get her shoes on and I was given the car keys and we were both told to guess how she did today at the weigh-bridge, whilst we were ushered out the door and into the car.
I navigate these moments of awkwardness with a high degree of diplomacy and guessed a modest one-pound rise; Jackie said similar. But now, with a beaming smile and a little shriek of joy, my Darling proudly announced a three-and-a-half-pound loss.
Well I’ll be… Congrats, my Darling, you are a star. 
With a hug or three we all jumped into the car and I dropped them into town for a brunch at the café where they could all refuel and natter away all morning.
I then headed north to see my brother-in-law P, who has this week had his first cataract surgery. Although my visit was a spur-of-the-moment decision, it would be nice to return the favour, as his better half — my Big Sis — isn’t visiting me today in favour of returning to P and keeping an eye on him. Oh, the puns I could play with here. I want to, but I really shouldn’t. So I’ll look the other way.
Anyway. I parked up in the adjoining street and walked the short step to his front door, all the while talking to him on the phone just to downplay the surprise. He opened the door loving the idea of my visit, and after a big hug we adjourned to his hobby-craft room with its model cars, tanks and guns, and had a chat.
Before too long Big Sis was home and she called up — and I called down. She knew my voice but really didn’t expect it just then. So I think I surprised her more than my Brother P.
Tea and cakes were provided while we chatted over past and present stuff, but ended up talking about curries and the party night tomorrow night for my Darling. I teased his tastebuds with what my Darling always orders — chicken tikka main meal with fries and a glass of red (large, obviously — there is only one size, after all). P liked the sound of that, so maybe his worries about coming and what to eat are not in the way of enjoying himself tomorrow evening.
I got home and everyone was back. My Darling took steps to arrange a take-out for all of us and soon we were chomping into a really good Turkish.
I thoroughly enjoyed my chilli kebab and, after licking my fingers clean, set about finishing with a jam doughnut and some Quality Street. Not everyone liked that idea, but it wasn’t long before a brand-new box of Heroes was added to the collection of sweet treats.
The TV had been on, and the series my Darling had us all watching had come to its conclusion. The remote was passed to our eldest’s wife K and we all started to recite lines from the film she was about the set up from the Disney channel — “Light the lamp, not the rat! Light the lamp, not the rat!” for instance.
That’s one of my favourite parts of this seasonal movie. Have you any ideas?
(A Muppet Christmas Carol) — still up there with the best of the Xmas films. That’s my view, and I’m sticking to it.
It was too late to finish the movie, and we all headed off to sleepy town just as the second ghost had Michael Caine dancing and smiling.
A very merry night was had, and we all settled back to our rooms with happy hearts.
———
What I didn’t say was that the LH rib (that’s probably broken) is giving me more and more acute pains while the bones are clicking away willy-nilly. This is not only a big pain for me but it’s not much fun for others either. My little shrieks are hard to control and they’re getting more frequent. What am I, or any medical professional, going to do about it? I can’t imagine anything can be done, to be fair.
My appetite is still amazingly good. My bloods are good except for a raised CRP — that’s apparently worth keeping an eye on. My blood pressure and oxygen levels are ok, and of course I have the bone scan on Monday.
Earlier today I was called and booked a CT scan for Monday afternoon, so that will mean I’ve only got the MRI to go.
Our lovely friends from the north are coming tomorrow, and when they arrive there will be big hugs for sure. J & D are such great people, and hopefully we’ll be able to see them lots when we get our holiday break to Cumbria from midweek this coming week for a week and a half — maybe stay with them too. Who knows. What I do know is that we will be Bus “people” 
especially a trip to Keswick for our usual seats in the window of the Crafty Baa for a beer or three. Happy days.
So there it is — a better day to end the week.
Have a lovely weekend.
