Just call Me Babs
I live on a farm of sorts. I have a house that is begging to be finished, a Husband with gout, a 22 year old Daughter with boyfriend in tow, one house cat, one visiting cat and one Goat. I have 3 walls, one conservatory with no doors and our 6th December Holiday under renovation but we are getting there.
I have Raynauds, Scleroderma, Cervical Spondylosis, Arthritis, Fybromyalgia and a broken nail. Besides that I'm fighting fit?? I'm also known as Babs.
I was sat here in front of the TV when I decided to write this blog, watching in awe as a guy shovelled copious amounts of food into his mouth for entertainment thinking how much I would be choking if I swallowed a pea.
Mealtimes are a nightmare, My Daughter is Lactose intolerant, My Husband's Gout causes havoc with meal plans and I don't eat and there's this guy eating mounds for a TV programme and we're all feeling nauseous.
"Turn it off" I asked but the options were a film we have seen so many times that I know the script, a game show and I gave up flicking through the channels when a programme about nurses flashed across the screen. Not that I have anything against those Angels, I just don't want to watch!
Things have really changed in the household over the last few years, in fact the only thing that's the same is the hole in my wall although it's slightly smaller of late on account of a glass building intended for Summer evenings being constructed and for a brief time had doors, so I guess we didn't have a hole then.We have a hole now because my husband took them off again and never got round to putting them back! It's only draughty when the wind blows so then we just turn the heating up!
There was a time when it was normal to meet a Goose on the bottom step of the staircase but they have now long gone on account of the complaints received by dog walkers. It was fun!
I had Chickens also. Those went too when I was tired of answering the door to strangers who didn't understand the term "Free Range" I once called them to the yard when an guy started having a go at me on a really bad day and told them off for going on the road. I couldn't quite understand his anger, I did ask the Chickens to comply and they did understand - I think? Anyhow he just thought I had lost my marbles.
My dietician stayed away as long as she could and couldn't help showing her relief when I informed her that the Geese had gone. She's been back and forth more frequently since.
My husband dreams of more Goats, a Ferret and a new set of Chickens. I say nothing and hope it's a passing whim and nothing more. He hasn't mentioned it for a while.
My voluntary job keeps me sane, warm and occupied. I've had days, you know the one's. The one's that anchor you to the bed and no amount of attempts to get up. I have sicky days and achey days and days where I don't quite know where it hurts most only that it does.
"Don't touch me, don't ask me to do anything, it's an off day"
My Daughter bids me Goodnight and I'm contemplating the same. The bed is beckoning me and I have an overwhelming urge to climb into it.
I reckon it's sanctuary!