The week has been mainly taken up with sorting out FOW2’s move out, HOH’s Birthday (he doesn’t want to talk about it. He feels the numbers in his age are the wrong way round) and trying to qualify for the Olympic Coughing Team. The sore throat spoken of last week (do try and remember) has turned into a hacking cough. Entertainingly for HOH it is worse when I lie down to try and sleep. I would move to the back room but FOW1 took his bed when he left so am showing willing by propping myself up on pillows. Not helping much – I keep waking up bent double with my face on my knees and panicking that I may have gone blind.
The Top Vicar came round as promised. As usual with new visitors, he made very bold statements about liking dogs but, after a short while, he was very relieved by our offer to lock our bouncy Jack Russell in the kitchen. Morecambe is only trying to be friendly but he does overdo it I know. It doesn’t help that HOH keeps telling people about how Morecambe once became so happy when the gas man came, that he widdled up his leg – just from pure joy. TV was wearing shorts and therefore also a guarded look whenever Morecambe ran up to him. The meeting went fine. I am not sure Vicar knows what to do with us. Not that he has to do anything of course, it’s not his responsibility to make us happy. I would just like to find my niche, you know? I am a woman but I work full time and my kids have left home so I don’t get to go to Toddler Club or Ladies’ Bible Study etc. We shall see.
Brexit continues to vex my troubled mind. I have stated that, on balance, I was a remainer. (Although it was a fine balance and, even if we had stayed, I would have liked to see plenty of reform) However, I held my hands up to the will of the people, as I have said. However, in the course of my work, I come across a lot of old people and…well, I’m finding it troubling that they had a vote. One chap kept going on about Churchill and how he wouldn’t have stood for it – Europe that is. Well…This is Churchill in 1957
We genuinely wish to join a European free trade area – and if our continental friends wish to reach agreement, I am quite sure a way can be found and that reasonable adjustments can be made to meet the essential interests of all.
Another bloke spoke about Margaret Thatcher and that her dearest wish was for us to leave, except, this is her speechwriter
“She fought hard for specific British advantages, where necessary to opt out of some of the EU arrangements, but she never in her time as prime minister contemplated or spoke about leaving the European Union.”
By all means vote for something you believe in but don’t base it on some fantasy idea about what a past leader would vote for. While you are at it, let’s see if we can canvas the support of Captain Mainwaring, Elsie Tanner, Richard The Lionheart and Gracie Fields as well.
I have spent more time than usual in front of the Telly Telly Bunkum Box (Thank you Roald Dahl for the genius description) and have come across “Keeping Faith” For those who don’t know, this is a Welsh Drama about a lawyer whose lawyer husband disappears – without trace – poof! Faith – for she is the lawyer wife in question, now has to find her husband, while keeping the law firm going and looking after her small children, All this she does admirably. Indeed, she seemed to spend most of the episode that I watched slinking in and out of police cells on her beautifully long legs and kicking off her lovely high heels to speak to clients. She has also developed a disconcerting habit of wafting into rooms in her underwear and lying down on a convenient table or worktop and staring up at the ceiling while being filmed from above. Now, I’m not saying I blame her and if I was as beautiful as she is, I would do my fair share of slinking as well (see above). All I’m saying is that when my friend’s cat went missing for about five hours, the only lying down she did was face down on the carpet while she cried and snotted for England so I would have expected Faith to be a bit more upset. Also, there is a baddie policewoman who is trying to pin the whole thing on Faith by the looks of things. We know she is a baddie because she has a terrible kind of Human League haircut, the most unflattering dark brown hair dye and a permanently disappointed air. Having said all this, HOH has annoyingly pointed out that I happily watched the whole thing from beginning to end and will certainly go back for the next episode. Bah!
Aged Parent continues to recover. I had arranged Meals on Wheels for a few weeks. (It’s now called Community Meals Service – not as catchy if you ask me) She had the first one which she declared delicious, then promptly cancelled the whole thing after the second meal arrived.
“They sent me a baked potato! One baked potato! Me! I ask you!”
I have no idea. Have a good week.