The art of balancing.

Mon 16^th Jan 2018

This blog was supposed to go out on the 18^th Nov 2017 but obviously I didn’t do a good job of loading it on.

The end of 2017 is fast approaching, it is now the middle of November 6.30 am. For the last hour I had been trying to get back to sleep.

I remembered the queen’s quote in her speech of her horrible-lest year.

We all had one of those in our lives and I’ve been toiling about mine this year as to where on the horrible scale I’m going to put this year down to.

Hate wasting my time languishing in bed so I threw the towel in and got up.

2017 must be fairly high up there.

I’m not for dwelling too much on the bad as I do believe in the balance of Nature and the universe so I will have to counter balance it with a few good years in my life.

As the events flash by in my mind it all gets jumbled up with good and bad years. Obviously If I’m to make any rational judgement on the whole, it will all need to be scientifically analysed.

Getting the scales out and dropping each attribute into the pan I do need to have some breakfast

Switching the kettle on in this house isn’t as easy as in other people’s houses. I have to hold the switch down until the kettle actually gets to boiling point.

You might ask why I don’t get a kettle that you can switch on and leave.

There’s nothing wrong with it apart from being a needy kettle. Functions well (apart from the switch problem) and looks good in all its glassy glory.

Just slightly broken. It fits in well with all the other stuff I own. To name but a few all with a little story of their own.

First and not in any order of importance is the dining table that has to have two marble tiles under its two window side legs to level it up so we can dine on it without having to chase your food down the slope.

One cupboard in the dining room (disused shop/junk room) where I bodged the flooring to stop it falling into the gaping hole by placing some cardboard and newspaper (pasted together for strength) under it. That was 15 years ago so I suppose my bodge job wasn’t too bad after all. Of course it could never be moved as the repair is based on the science of a whisper and a prayer.

The battered picture on the wall depicting two friends having a picnic on the Heysham Rocks at Half Moon Bay dressed in some knitted swimwear which I had rescued from over another gaping hole when we were resuscitating  this house/ shed/shop.

The large sections of the shelf unit from the original Chemist which are missing all their beautiful little draw’s because they became part of the ‘deal’.….But I digress.

Kettle duly switched on, I am thinking that the box of chocolates I bought 3 weeks ago for somebodies Xmas present is nearly empty the only remaining chocolates that are there are the ones I don’t like. No doubt when I get desperate they too will disappear.  So much for self-control and determination. Yes I confess I am week when it comes to having temptation put in front of me. If we have to own up there’s not many people who wouldn’t have done the same.

The problem with a mind that wonders and darts about like something possessed is the inability to remember the good idea or the beginning of the idea in the first place.

 Had I managed to drop off to sleep and whole up 2 or 3 hours later I would not have remembered the beginning of the blog, maybe I would have forgotten the whole thing altogether. (I think the beginning is very important.)

Part of this year’s horridness was the ‘nose job’. 

Amazingly I am typing this part of the blog without any ophthalmic help. How I wish I had learned how to touch type. Glancing up at the screen I can see lots of blue and red underlining. Equally amazing its wonderful how the mind is over-riding the bad eye sight and I am actually placing my little fingers (more or less) on the keys I want to hit where I think the letters are? So in a way I am nearly touch Typing.

Now the heating’s been on for half an hour I can get washed and dressed and lenses in and perhaps get to grips with the initial idea of this blog from the embryo state to the conclusion.

To interpret the scale of good and bad in life, (any life, not just my own but for now I’m concentrating on just me,) it has to be approached scientifically with just balance and seriousness.

Bad.

Nose job. It actually started November 2016. I know that will mean I’m counting 2016 as a horrible year. No. Just the last 2 months. Then not all was bad as when the Dr Capewell cut out the Basal cell cancer he made such a good job of stitching the 7 stiches that after a few months the scaring disappeared completely. So that is partly good.

Balanced out.

January was unfortunately bad. As I flicked the duvet into the clean cover, something in my shoulder seemed to snap. A week later after a lovely leisurely walk of seven miles something in my right knee gave while walking downstairs in Booths at Kendal. Carefully massaging both injuries with my home made recipe of Comphrey oils a few times a day the injuries seemed to ease. So that ended January with good. Balanced out again.

February, March and April mooched on nicely.

16^th of May was very, very bad. I was looking forward to an exciting day and had it all planned to perfection. Quick appointment with Andrew at Milnthorpe at: a2ainternet.co.uk to help me with the ‘Blog thing’ as I was getting stuck and getting nowhere fast. Then have a lovely walk to Ambleside and back to Carnforth for 6pm to have my first watercolour lesson at the art shop.

That’s where it all went pear shape for the rest of the year.

The bus I was going to travel on was the 755 to Bowness which was late by about 12 minutes and as the number 5 rolled up I decided to hop onto that and change at Carnforth to the 555.

So far so good. This is where it gets a bit crazy. I looked behind us as we were traveling on a nice straight road and noticed the 755 was catching us up. So I got off the number 5 and jumped on the 755.

BIG MISTAKE!

Just as we were approaching the roundabout past Carnforth at the Truck Haven a car smashed into my bus. As I had been working out my next walking trip and was studying the time table I didn’t see the pending danger so I didn’t brace myself at the crash, hence sustained a C6 Neck injury, damaged my top lip and ended up in the Lancaster Infirmary for one week. Then nearly 4 months in a neck brace.

Balancing it all out the hospital staff, Doctors and nurses were wonderful. Mr Sanjea the wonderful Surgeon stitched my top lip and considering what he had to work with (a big chunk of my ‘Cupid’s Bow was missing,) he did a wonderful job.

The Home help Nurses were a God sent and I could not have managed without them. Two of them came every day to wash my neck and check it over for any blemishes. I mustn’t forget to mention the lovely ladies who made my bespoke neck brace in Preston Hospital.

I will continue this little saga of my balancing the rest of the year in another blog next week.