Monthly Archives: February 2007

Is my fear irrational?

I have begun to realise over recent years that I fear the first day in each month. To be specific, I fear the morning of the first day in each month. I think I know why I have this fear, but I can’t say my fears have become a reality since I became aware of the issue.

I believe my fear stems from childhood ‘pinch punch first of the month no returns’ It isn’t that anyone pinched me or punched me particularly viciously but I do think I was always rather aprehensive that others would get me and I wouldn’t be able to get them back.

In all my years of teaching no one has ever done this to me, yet still I feel a slight dread as I write the date up on the board.

So… is my fear irrational?

Poor Mother

Just printing her a 2007 calendar as she doesn’t have one yet. I did tell her I saw some in WHSmiths for 49p, but in case they don’t have any left I know a chap that draws calendars.

I am very clever

Yesterday we were having baked potatoes in the evening. We were debating which potato was the heaviest. David said it was one, it quite clearly wasn’t so we weighed the one I chose as heaviest. It weighed 277g. We both guessed the weight of the other potato, my guess being 249g and David’s being 289g. It turned out that the weight was 252g making me very clever.

PS We aren’t always this pathetic.

My hand

Sorry, it goes on a bit, feel free to ignore it.

Recently I was doing householdly chores of a washing up variety while my dear husband went and foraged for food at the local fish and chip van which comes this way a couple of times a week (I would like to point out that we rarely use the thing but we couldn’t be bothered to go to the supermarket and had little other food).

Anyway, third glass into the washing up I became aware that the glass had broken, I then became aware that I was cut, quite a lot. I pulled my hand out of the glass and the water and ran around the kitchen a bit. Then I told myself not to panic and grabbed a clean tea towel by virtue of liking the one that was in use rather than because it wasn’t clean (I wasn’t thinking too clearly). I tried phoning Dave who was by now on his way back to tell him to be quick but he didn’t hear it. When he came into sight I opened the door and told him to hurry – not because I was impatient for food as he first thought – but because I was bleeding quite a lot. At this stage I should mention that it was a cut on the back of my hand, where my thumb joins the rest of it, so I wasn’t in a huge amount of danger. Without further ado we found me some shoes and jumped into the car to go to the hospital. It was on the journey that the pain kicked in, with a vengance. He dropped me at the door of the A and E and went to park the car.

I went into the hospital and found the first hurdle was signing in, but the nice lady behind the desk did that for me, reassuring me that a nurse would see me soon. Husband arrived soon after and we waited a short time for the nurse to call me into a side cubicle. She looked at it, put some strips on it and a big bandage around the whole hand and asked me if I had taken any painkillers. I said I hadn’t and she promised to get some for me soon, in the mean time I was to return to the waiting room and wait (makes sense really). She also opened the bin for me to dispose of my rather bloody tea towel.

After a while of feeling really very uncomfortable my name was finally called to get the painkillers, which I gratefully took. Once these started kicking in I began looking at the people around me. Some people had very obvious reasons for being there, others less so. There was one family who I still can’t work out what they were doing, but it looked like a family outing. They had a bag of food from M&S and a lot of the small childs stuff, including a sleeping bag type thing. They would both take it in turns to go and play with the child or carry him around. I suppose it must have been something wrong with the child, now I’ll never know.

Eventually I was called through by a nurse and was pointed at some seats to sit in. I had left my husband behind at this point, foolishly believing I was being called through to see a doctor. I sat and waited, and waited, and waited. In the mean time nurses came through with lots of other people from the waiting room and took them through. I caught someones attention after a long time and asked whether I was going to be seen – if I wasn’t I was going to go and get my husband to keep me company. I was told I would be seen next, but of course if I wanted to go and find him I could. I decided not to – after all how long could ‘next’ be?

Quite a long time as it turns out. Anyway I went through to the doctor and he checked it was still working (which it was) and then he pressed down on the cut, then I screamed (quietly) and he decided I should go for an x-ray. He gave me the form and I decided to collect husband before going along as I wanted some company. The x-ray happened quite quickly and I got back to see the doctor quite quickly. He reassured me there wasn’t any glass in the cut and then debated what to do. As it’s on the bend of the thumb they should put stitches in, I reluctantly said ‘if you have to then I’ll try not to be a wimp’ he pondered some more and marvelled at how well the steri-strips were holding it together. He called a nurse in who also pondered it and between them they decided that steri-stips were the way to go. Unfortately it needed washing – properly – so the nurse did that, really properly, it hurt a lot until it stopped hurting cos it was hurting so much. Anyway she put the strips on, bandaged up my thumb very neatly and I was free to go home. I was not to get my thumb wet at all for the next week. Also I shouldn’t bend my thumb otherwise the strips would come lose and ugh.

Anyway, this week has been full of my left hand realising how hard my right hand works and doing a poor imitation. Strangely writing on the board with the pen between my fingers wasn’t too bad. The marking was a disgrace, but I’m so behind anyway I had no choice except to persist until it got too painful.

I will be very glad to be told that I can start using my thumb again, but surely it should hurt less by now, not more?

Weekend – Part V

Sunday Morning

After a leisurely but not too slack start to the day we wandered off to find breakfast. I can’t remember the name of the place but it was a good place to be on a Sunday morning. I had the breakfast muffin which consisted of a Muffin (of the proper, non-american, variety) some sausage meat, a slice of bacon and a fried egg. Delicious. The place was relaxed and conversation was fun. Sadly this brought our weekend to a close as I was on the 2pm train home.

Not a nightmare journey but I did wish I could have been in a quiet carriage. The man opposite had two mobiles (why do people have two phones?) and he was on the phone almost constantly.

Weekend – Part IV

We went back to the bride to be’s house for drinks and changings, followed by more drinks at another house, which was also rather fun, and then a rather fantastic meal at Junipers. The first thing that struck me about the place is ‘perfect purple’ it was in a strip around the walls. I was further struck by the various picture type things in a variety of shades of that purple all aroud me. I sometimes ponder on whether there is something a bit strange about me that gets such a marvellous feeling from one colour – it has to be right mind you.

Anyway, however perfect the purple is, if the food is rubbish that doesn’t mean much. The food was fantastic, I had potato and cauliflower soup with pumpkin ravioli and a crostini with pesto as a starter and a rather gorgeous steak with a rarebit top and an ale and shallot sauce as a main course. Both were completely excellent, though my main course was rather too much to finish and I didn’t manage a dessert.

Conversation throughout was lots of fun, and the rather slow service was really good, it meant we didn’t feel rushed but could relax and enjoy. The restaurant emptied around us and we eventually left at about midnight. A fantastic evening.

Weekend – Part III

The Spa

This was lovely, upon arrival I found everyone, some because I know them, others through clever detecting. Having eaten a picnic we sat in the spa pool while I did my best to wind down from my frustrating journey. Thankfully I still had a massage booked so before too long was called away to spend an hour in bliss, with only the occasional worry that my nose might drip. I was truly relaxed after that. I don’t think the others got any sense out of me for some time – assuming that they ever get any sense out of me of course.

I wandered off to try the steam room, which does wonders for a cold, it’s a shame I couldn’t take it with me. Then another soak in the spa pool and I was just about awake enough to start conversation again.

Showered, dressed and ready for part IV

Weekend – Part II

After peace had descended we were still stuck on the train before Didcot, waiting to hear whether we were ever going to move, at least now we could all hear the announcements. The up shot was that we were going to move, it just wouldn’t be very soon. I offered the ‘float’ treatment I had so been looking forward to, as there was no way I was going to get to the spa in time for my appointment, I made sure that there would be food available – the train had nothing left apart from a few packets of crisps.

Finally I arrived in Bristol, some man tried to stop me on the platform to sell me something, I moved on grumbling – not really in the mood given I am already 1 hour 45 minutes later than planned, got in a taxi and headed to the spa.

Weekend – Part I

The woman from hell.

She invaded the carriage and moaned very loudly when, having sat in someone’s reserved seat, she had to move. She also had 2 small children running around A LOT, had TWO mobiles, an extremely loud voice and very offensive views.

I had the joy of sitting across the aisle to her for an hour and 40 minutes. I learned all sorts of things about her that I really didn’t want to know. I heard her arrange for someone to take toilet paper round to another of her children who had phoned as she really needed a ****, I heard her cancel her contact with other children because of the delayed train. I heard about the litre bottle of vodka she was given the night before as a gift from some bloke – in at least 4 conversations. I heard about her blagging £25 off of John, I learned of her hanging her head out of the window to have a fag – again about 4 times in different conversations. I heard her talk threateningly about another woman in the carriage because she was ‘***** looking at’ her, as well as make racist comments about various other people. The beauty of having two mobiles is that you can constantly have someone on the phone and another older daughter to answer the phone you are not currently using and then phone those people back.

Finally I heard with joy her decision to walk to the end of the train and leave when it became obvious that we weren’t going anywhere soon.