One would think that over a week after smashing my head against the bedroom wall that I would have started to feel better. However, I do not feel better, in fact, after my x-rays taken today I actually feel worse than I did at the beginning. The x-ray technician was not the greatest help. She pushed me and pulled me and made hold poses that have never been in my repertoire at any time. The most interesting one was the one where she x-rayed me through my mouth. I thought I was having a flash back to the dentist. As I am not a fainter I managed to remain upright, if not dizzy. I was also able to stop myself from vomiting in the lovely clean x-ray suite.
I feel so dreadful now that I have decided to take myself of to bed. I will throw down some pain killers and an anti-nausea pill and take my trusty wheat bag with me. I will awaken bright and sparkly and feeling magnificently well. That is my intention anyway, and as most of us know positive intentions lead to positive outcomes. In my world they do anyway.
Monday, 27 August 2012
Friday, 24 August 2012
Ball games and climbing trees
I am little disturbed by a new school rule that prevents children playing ball games. I gather that this before and after school and perhaps in after school care. The school in question has banned the ball games because they are too dangerous.
When I was at school we played all sorts of games. Playing ball was one of our favourites. We had all sorts of games that went on and on. We juggled the balls against the wall, we bounced them, threw them and played brandy. Brandy a game where chucking the ball at each other or branding them was a fun thing to do. Dodging the ball was the thing. If you were really good you never got branded. This was a game of skill and not judged too rough for us kids either by parents or teachers.
I don't think that brandy would be encouraged these days. What once was fun is now vetoed. I am sure there are a lot of people that would welcome any kind of exercise for kids but are now stymied by rules and regulations. How are kids going to get exercise if every exercise is now deemed too rough and too dangerous?
My favourite thing when I was a kid in Wasleys was to climb the huge Norfolk Island pines in the next door paddock. I would climb and climb until I got up so far that the branches swayed back and forth. Mum used to come out and shout at me but I affected not to hear. At Peterhead I climbed a beautiful mulberry tree in the next door house. I climbed and sat and ate mulberries and made the tree into my little kingdom of make believe. Almond trees were also a favourite of mine. Of course I was not supposed to climb them when there were blossoms but hey I was a kid right???
At one place where we lived us kids used to climb up a tree onto the roof of a shed, run across the old saggy corrugated iron roof and then shinny down the drain pipe on the other side. The purpose of this game I think was to see just how quickly we could do it. We got yelled at for that one too. Yelling did not stop us it was too much fun.
While I never hurt myself climbing or playing ball I did suffer skinned knees. Skinned knees were a badge of honour. If your knees weren't skinned now and then obviously you hadn't really been playing properly like a kid should. I always managed to sprain my ankle. I was forever bandaged up and limping but the temporary bother of a sprained ankle never stopped me from going back to doing the exact same things again and again.
'In the 'good old days' I ran and ran and fell and scraped, bruised and sprained and I had 'fun.' I was skinny. I exercised all the time. I didn't know it was exercise I thought I was playing. I am sad for kids who will never experience the joy of playing brandy or climbing up and up through the branches of trees. Poor poor kids. I feel like crying.
When I was at school we played all sorts of games. Playing ball was one of our favourites. We had all sorts of games that went on and on. We juggled the balls against the wall, we bounced them, threw them and played brandy. Brandy a game where chucking the ball at each other or branding them was a fun thing to do. Dodging the ball was the thing. If you were really good you never got branded. This was a game of skill and not judged too rough for us kids either by parents or teachers.
I don't think that brandy would be encouraged these days. What once was fun is now vetoed. I am sure there are a lot of people that would welcome any kind of exercise for kids but are now stymied by rules and regulations. How are kids going to get exercise if every exercise is now deemed too rough and too dangerous?
My favourite thing when I was a kid in Wasleys was to climb the huge Norfolk Island pines in the next door paddock. I would climb and climb until I got up so far that the branches swayed back and forth. Mum used to come out and shout at me but I affected not to hear. At Peterhead I climbed a beautiful mulberry tree in the next door house. I climbed and sat and ate mulberries and made the tree into my little kingdom of make believe. Almond trees were also a favourite of mine. Of course I was not supposed to climb them when there were blossoms but hey I was a kid right???
At one place where we lived us kids used to climb up a tree onto the roof of a shed, run across the old saggy corrugated iron roof and then shinny down the drain pipe on the other side. The purpose of this game I think was to see just how quickly we could do it. We got yelled at for that one too. Yelling did not stop us it was too much fun.
While I never hurt myself climbing or playing ball I did suffer skinned knees. Skinned knees were a badge of honour. If your knees weren't skinned now and then obviously you hadn't really been playing properly like a kid should. I always managed to sprain my ankle. I was forever bandaged up and limping but the temporary bother of a sprained ankle never stopped me from going back to doing the exact same things again and again.
'In the 'good old days' I ran and ran and fell and scraped, bruised and sprained and I had 'fun.' I was skinny. I exercised all the time. I didn't know it was exercise I thought I was playing. I am sad for kids who will never experience the joy of playing brandy or climbing up and up through the branches of trees. Poor poor kids. I feel like crying.
Tuesday, 21 August 2012
w..w..w..w.......wrong!
Far be it from me to not be right. I prefer to not be right rather than wwwwwwrong.
As usual Dr. Cushie knows everything and therefore chose not to go to the doctor after hitting the wall with the head. I know that people with concussion vomit. I did not vomit, ergo, I did not have concussion. I should have realized that the dizziness, nausea and sleepiness were slight hints about whether or not I had concussion.
Finally, today I went to the doctor. He gently rotated my head and listened to the Anvil Chorus of vertebrae all protesting their treatment. He gave me the old pre-senile speech. You know, "Old person, comes with age, be careful, rah rah rah." He also said that if I don't feel better I should get an x-ray. Seeing that it has been about five days since I played crash bang with the wall I would imagine that I should have started to feel better by now. The child of my loins was cross because she would have said to have the x-ray done straight away. I am not feeling my intellectual best at the moment so I didn't question the doctor's decision. I will give it a couple more days and then drop in the either see him again or go to my usual doctor.
Never mind I have anti nausea tablets, pain killers and anti-inflammatory tablets. I have my trusty wheat bag and plenty of time to spend in bed. I am now at the age when if the doctor says go to bed and rest I do. Good on him I say.
So folks I do have concussion, I was wwwwwrong. God I hate saying that! I will try to avoid my doctoral skills, (I have none) and take notice of my daughter and friends. W..w...w...w...wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As usual Dr. Cushie knows everything and therefore chose not to go to the doctor after hitting the wall with the head. I know that people with concussion vomit. I did not vomit, ergo, I did not have concussion. I should have realized that the dizziness, nausea and sleepiness were slight hints about whether or not I had concussion.
Finally, today I went to the doctor. He gently rotated my head and listened to the Anvil Chorus of vertebrae all protesting their treatment. He gave me the old pre-senile speech. You know, "Old person, comes with age, be careful, rah rah rah." He also said that if I don't feel better I should get an x-ray. Seeing that it has been about five days since I played crash bang with the wall I would imagine that I should have started to feel better by now. The child of my loins was cross because she would have said to have the x-ray done straight away. I am not feeling my intellectual best at the moment so I didn't question the doctor's decision. I will give it a couple more days and then drop in the either see him again or go to my usual doctor.
Never mind I have anti nausea tablets, pain killers and anti-inflammatory tablets. I have my trusty wheat bag and plenty of time to spend in bed. I am now at the age when if the doctor says go to bed and rest I do. Good on him I say.
So folks I do have concussion, I was wwwwwrong. God I hate saying that! I will try to avoid my doctoral skills, (I have none) and take notice of my daughter and friends. W..w...w...w...wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, 20 August 2012
Old lady falling
I fell out of bed last night. Well in truth I was trying to get back in to bed when I fell. All in all it was totally my fault because I did not turn on the light so missed the edge of the bed by about half a metre. I always walk around in the dark at night so last night was nothing unusual. Perhaps since I am in the pre-senile stage of my life I should turn on a light or two until I get under the bedclothes.
So I fell 'into bed or out of bed' it doesn't really matter, however, fall I did. I smacked the back of my head so hard onto the wall that I heard all my neck vertebrae crack. I lay on the floor for some time waiting to see if my extremities still operated and once all was found to be correct I dragged myself up onto the bed by hanging on to the dressing table. Later in the night I had the worst headache so wobbled out and heated up a wheat bag and placed it on my head then my neck.
A great many sensible people would have called an ambulance so they could get checked over in hospital. However, I have never used sensible and myself in the same sentence and will not do so now. So I spent the night turning and twisting and heat bagging until morning. I arose, looked after the animals and then feeling pretty awful I went back to bed and slept another few hours.
I have an appointment with the doctor on Wednesday, that is if I have not died from concussion or some such thing. As long as I have lots of sleeping I am fine. Before I get berated about my actions I must say this in my defence. I did not lose consciousness nor did I vomit, I also remember exactly what happened to me.
I don't like to go to the hospital. Once they get their hands on pre-senile people like me who live alone, they are not keen on releasing them. So once again, I am fine and I will be turning lights on at night. I will endeavour to find the edge of the bed before I sit or lie down. I am good/fine/couldn't be better!
So I fell 'into bed or out of bed' it doesn't really matter, however, fall I did. I smacked the back of my head so hard onto the wall that I heard all my neck vertebrae crack. I lay on the floor for some time waiting to see if my extremities still operated and once all was found to be correct I dragged myself up onto the bed by hanging on to the dressing table. Later in the night I had the worst headache so wobbled out and heated up a wheat bag and placed it on my head then my neck.
A great many sensible people would have called an ambulance so they could get checked over in hospital. However, I have never used sensible and myself in the same sentence and will not do so now. So I spent the night turning and twisting and heat bagging until morning. I arose, looked after the animals and then feeling pretty awful I went back to bed and slept another few hours.
I have an appointment with the doctor on Wednesday, that is if I have not died from concussion or some such thing. As long as I have lots of sleeping I am fine. Before I get berated about my actions I must say this in my defence. I did not lose consciousness nor did I vomit, I also remember exactly what happened to me.
I don't like to go to the hospital. Once they get their hands on pre-senile people like me who live alone, they are not keen on releasing them. So once again, I am fine and I will be turning lights on at night. I will endeavour to find the edge of the bed before I sit or lie down. I am good/fine/couldn't be better!
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Tooth fairy
My tooth fairy has given me the most beautiful temporary crown on my front tooth. I look amazing. Well my tooth looks gorgeous. The tooth fairy is Dr. Viv, the most amazing dentist ever. Dr. Viv rules!!!!!!
Monday, 6 August 2012
Frugal
Frugal means, sparing, prudent or thrifty. My friend Freda, (Frugal Freda I call her,) is the Queen thriftyness. She saves buttons and tea bag strings and tiny pieces of card probably from old tea bag packets. Once she has sorted through all her buttons she sews each set onto a tiny piece of card with the tea bag strings. This way she can give the buttons to (who?) She spends many an evening sorting through all the buttons until her husband, (surely one of the most boring men on earth) gets angry and tells her she is making too much noise. She does I must add, sort the buttons on a metal tray.
When Frugal Freda is asked for a pattern or a recipe she writes it on the tiniest piece of paper in the tiniest writing imaginable. Every speck of the paper is covered and almost all illegible to the reader. During the war years I gather one did not waste anything. The fact that we have not been in a World War for over sixty years does not seem to matter to her. I should make her a huge mosaic for her that states, 'Waste Not Want Not.' It would of course have to be made of old pieces of tile taken from building sites and second hand shops.
Freda throws nothing out. She saves the bags the Messenger comes in, corn flour bags and sugar bags. She saves egg cartons and plastic tops for the local schools. She only knits with recycled wool and I am always amazed when she saves tiny little left-overs of wool. I am not talking about half a ball of wool, I am talking about one hundredth of a ball. She always says that you may find a use for it at some stage, (not in my lifetime I always think.) The Boring Man also hates her knitting because of the click clacking of her needles. 'Miserable old Goat.'
I have never known her to buy new clothes. She shops exclusively in Vinnies Vogue, the Salvos and Blind Welfare. I suppose she does buy new shoes but I am sure she only buys another pair when hers are positively worn out.
When Freda shops she has a list of her exact needs for the fortnight. She usually purchases home brand items and never lashes out on anything. When her trees bear fruit she makes jams, chutneys and stews up as much fruit as she can and then gives the left over bounty to the neighbours, her fellow church goers and even places some in boxes in front of her house.
I doubt that Freda has ever been to a stage show or concert. She considers the cinema too expensive as is dining out. Once she went by bus to Western Australia to see the wild flowers blooming; she does love flowers. Freda has lovely plants on her front verandah that she has grown from cuttings. It is out of the question to actually buy a plant from a nursery.
There are no pets at Freda's house. Pets cost money and money my dears is not to be wasted! I often wonder exactly what she is going to do with all the money she saves. I am not above imagining that her grown up children will happily spend their whole inheritance in the matter of months, however, if her habits are anything to go by they will sock it away for a rainy day that will probably never come
Although the following has nothing to do with frugality my favourite Freda eccentricity is that she always picks up rubbish from the foot paths, gutters, front fences and around shops. She also picks up weeds on the way home from Church. I suppose that she does throw the rubbish and weeds into bins because I hate to think that she saves other people's rubbish as well as her own. She reminds me of a little old bag woman but one with a nice home.
She is a true daughter of the Depression and War and the most endearing eccentric lady I have ever met.
When Frugal Freda is asked for a pattern or a recipe she writes it on the tiniest piece of paper in the tiniest writing imaginable. Every speck of the paper is covered and almost all illegible to the reader. During the war years I gather one did not waste anything. The fact that we have not been in a World War for over sixty years does not seem to matter to her. I should make her a huge mosaic for her that states, 'Waste Not Want Not.' It would of course have to be made of old pieces of tile taken from building sites and second hand shops.
Freda throws nothing out. She saves the bags the Messenger comes in, corn flour bags and sugar bags. She saves egg cartons and plastic tops for the local schools. She only knits with recycled wool and I am always amazed when she saves tiny little left-overs of wool. I am not talking about half a ball of wool, I am talking about one hundredth of a ball. She always says that you may find a use for it at some stage, (not in my lifetime I always think.) The Boring Man also hates her knitting because of the click clacking of her needles. 'Miserable old Goat.'
I have never known her to buy new clothes. She shops exclusively in Vinnies Vogue, the Salvos and Blind Welfare. I suppose she does buy new shoes but I am sure she only buys another pair when hers are positively worn out.
When Freda shops she has a list of her exact needs for the fortnight. She usually purchases home brand items and never lashes out on anything. When her trees bear fruit she makes jams, chutneys and stews up as much fruit as she can and then gives the left over bounty to the neighbours, her fellow church goers and even places some in boxes in front of her house.
I doubt that Freda has ever been to a stage show or concert. She considers the cinema too expensive as is dining out. Once she went by bus to Western Australia to see the wild flowers blooming; she does love flowers. Freda has lovely plants on her front verandah that she has grown from cuttings. It is out of the question to actually buy a plant from a nursery.
There are no pets at Freda's house. Pets cost money and money my dears is not to be wasted! I often wonder exactly what she is going to do with all the money she saves. I am not above imagining that her grown up children will happily spend their whole inheritance in the matter of months, however, if her habits are anything to go by they will sock it away for a rainy day that will probably never come
Although the following has nothing to do with frugality my favourite Freda eccentricity is that she always picks up rubbish from the foot paths, gutters, front fences and around shops. She also picks up weeds on the way home from Church. I suppose that she does throw the rubbish and weeds into bins because I hate to think that she saves other people's rubbish as well as her own. She reminds me of a little old bag woman but one with a nice home.
She is a true daughter of the Depression and War and the most endearing eccentric lady I have ever met.
Addicted to
I have just had the worst weekend ever. My computer ceased to work. Of course it did work as an ordinary computer. I could still use Word or Excel if I felt so inclined. (I didn't.) However, I wanted to get on to the Internet. I wanted to go to Igoogle and Facebook and do my general knowledge crosswords and of course access Google Chrome where I compose my blog.
Every time I tried to go onto the net I got the same silly message," Forget it old woman you cannot go onto the Internet, it no longer exists for you." Well words to that effect really. I spent some time talking to people at Optus and after they realized that I am a complete nitwit they gave up. One person offered a great solution, that I should get a technician to come in and fix it for me. Needless to say I do not have enough money to keep myself housed and fed so getting a technician is out of my league entirely.
The best thing about my problem is that my friend Jo is down from Queensland and she is a computer whiz. Today she came and did wondrous things. She spoke to an Optus person, who even I could understand, and then she fixed the computer for me. I do not know what I would have done if she hadn't fixed it. I could have asked my friend's son but I do hate to disturb him especially because he is the go to guru that the ordinary gurus have to go to at an extremely large company. He gets enough silly questions a day without me adding to his stress.
I have had my computer fix. I am happily sending messages to everyone to tell them that my computer is working. They were all having a garden party thinking that I had finally been silenced so I guess I have spoiled their little celebration.
I am baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaccccccccccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Every time I tried to go onto the net I got the same silly message," Forget it old woman you cannot go onto the Internet, it no longer exists for you." Well words to that effect really. I spent some time talking to people at Optus and after they realized that I am a complete nitwit they gave up. One person offered a great solution, that I should get a technician to come in and fix it for me. Needless to say I do not have enough money to keep myself housed and fed so getting a technician is out of my league entirely.
The best thing about my problem is that my friend Jo is down from Queensland and she is a computer whiz. Today she came and did wondrous things. She spoke to an Optus person, who even I could understand, and then she fixed the computer for me. I do not know what I would have done if she hadn't fixed it. I could have asked my friend's son but I do hate to disturb him especially because he is the go to guru that the ordinary gurus have to go to at an extremely large company. He gets enough silly questions a day without me adding to his stress.
I have had my computer fix. I am happily sending messages to everyone to tell them that my computer is working. They were all having a garden party thinking that I had finally been silenced so I guess I have spoiled their little celebration.
I am baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaccccccccccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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