As we’re now in December I turned my Christmas lights on this week. I don’t usually have any outside lights, as I don’t have the energy to put them up or take them down, but I spotted a cheap pre-lit Cherry tree in B&M which just had to be plugged in and couldn’t resist buying it. It looks similar to this and is really pretty in my miniscule front garden:
My cleaner is still off sick and has no idea when she’ll be back at work. I have to ask myself how long I can leave the situation before letting her go and finding someone else (good luck with that in December Jak!). The thing with backs is that once they’ve been damaged they tend to never be the same again, so how will she cope with a very physically demanding job? In my last Weekly Roundup I mentioned that I find cleaning the car myself almost impossible and one of my lovely readers asked me why on earth I need to wash the car. I don’t wash the outside, I go through a drive-in, but when you live in the countryside and own a dog this is the reason you need the inside regularly cleaned😉
Bertie regularly has half a forest stuck in his fur then shakes himself and the mud splattered up the car door took 3 goes with a scrubbing brush to get off! More than anything, the smell of wet muddy dog is enough to knock you sideways!
I was in tears on Tuesday and it takes a lot to make me cry. You’ve all heard me complain about the sodding dog on the farm next door barking at all hours of the day and night, but it’s not the dog’s fault. It’s treated appallingly, not given any attention or affection, and left on its own for hours on end. In 2014 I reported the owner to the RSPCA for tying the dog’s muzzle with wire – it was nipping the heels of the cows it was herding so its muzzle was taped shut. The problem is, dogs don’t sweat like we do and have to pant to cool down. In addition, one of its front paws was being put through its collar and it was being made to hobble around on 3 legs. The RSPCA inspector visited them and the farmer pleaded ignorance saying he had no idea this was abusing the dog (is he having a fucking laugh?!). That was 2 years ago and the dog is still regularly having its leg put through its collar for reasons I can’t work out. If it’s to stop it running off it’s not working, because this week I found it hobbling ¼ of a mile up the village. I was furious and called the dog over to me, took a photo for evidence, then undid its collar and freed its leg. I then, once again, reported the cruelty to the RSPCA. The dog is abused on a daily basis – I’ve seen it kicked, hit and strangled. A beautiful Border Collie, highly intelligent and extremely affectionate. I came home and bawled my eyes out, imagining someone treating my beloved Bert that way. I’ll let you know what the outcome is – at least this time the farmer can’t plead ignorance as he was told in 2014 that this treatment of the dog is cruel.
Another lovely reader wrote in and told me that the C5 programme I mentioned this week is now available on Catch up here for anyone in the UK who missed it.
I had a bit of a mishap on Thursday. At 9pm I went downstairs to turn all the lights off, missed my footing and fell down my wooden staircase. My wrist is proper sore and still bandaged up (don’t panic, it’s not broken just sprained). Ouch! Although I didn’t actually say “ouch” at the time. No, the air was blue with goddamn-motherfucking-swear-words. The worst of it all was that in trying to save myself I ripped the pretty Christmas garland wrapped round the bannister off and broke it. Bugger!
In this situation, the first thing I did was slap on some Arnica cream to help with the bruising, then a compression bandage to help with the swelling. You’re supposed to ice these kinds of injuries but it was late and I was ready for bed so I didn’t bother. The weird part was that the next day other parts of my body were itching like mad. I just thought I was producing histamine in response to the trauma of the accident, so went about my day as usual. It was only when I got undressed to get in the bath that night that I realized the parts of my body that were itching were actually injured! I’d bruised my hip and taken the skin off various other areas. Bizarre that I didn’t feel pain. The injury sites itched instead, which is a peculiar response to being hurt. My wrist doesn’t itch though. No, it hurts like a son-of-a-bloody-bitch😉
As Christmas is heading for us like a runaway horse, look out for a post this week on how I survive the holidays. I used to try and do Christmas like a healthy person, then relapse and be in bed til March. Something had to give and several years ago I put my foot down and said enough is enough. We still celebrate but it’s no longer stressful or exhausting and doesn’t culminate with me ending up in a coma.