Zoë is busy and purposeful (yeah, right)

 I promised to be upbeat.  So a progress report.  

Of arrangements for the kitchen, I've got the units, work surfaces, floor, window, door and fitter sorted out and am waiting for the fitter to get in touch to tell me when the job can be done, which will inform the ordering of everything else - deposits have been paid.  Weeza thinks I should have tiles behind the Aga, which is fair enough, but I haven't found anything suitable yet.  I haven't given any thought to the colour of the walls.  I've ordered a new, big upright freezer, which is arriving on Saturday.  The reason I'm getting it now is that I need to empty the big chest freezer in order to move it.  Ultimately, I'd like to just have my slightly smaller chest freezer and the upright, but I'll have to juggle between the three for a while first.  I'll get a new tall fridge after the kitchen is installed, to replace the two I have now.  The new freezer will go in the porch to start with, but the tortoise run will have to be moved first, the tots being outside all the time for the next few months.

I moved the lovely oak dresser into the dining room some weeks ago and I've put mostly blue and white china on it - some Lowestoft, also old Delft tiles and some other random china, I don't want it to look too tidy, of course.

A great many books have been moved upstairs, to a room with a very good floor (you know how heavy books are) and the bookcases had to be cut in half to get them into the room - that will be done on Thursday, when Wince is here.  He'll put them together and then the books will go back.  I've set aside a few hundred to dispose of, so far.  

Wink is away for a week and I'm being very busy in her absence.  I'm emptying the kitchen cupboards and taking a lot of things out of the larder, which I use for storage rather than for food.  I'm putting pots and casseroles and plates and so on into the big dining room - unfortunately, I wanted a tablecloth today out of the chest that a lot of heavy stuff is on, so that ain't happening.  I'll just have to wash a tablecloth, dry it and put it back on the table.

I have a lot of papers to sort out.  That's a job for tomorrow.  The start of it, anyway.  There will be a lot I can get rid of and the rest will be properly filed - I always used to keep up with that, but it slipped a while ago and, once that happens, it's very hard to get back under control.

I've got a very big wine rack, a metre wide and I know where it will go in the end but, so far, I'm not sure where it'll be in the meantime.  I want to declutter the kitchen completely in the next few weeks, though it'll make the rest of the house crowded.  I also need to empty the study, so it can't go in there.  

Within the next few weeks, I should hear from the listed building people about my application to alter the drawing room fireplace.  They may need the chap from the council to come round - I don't mind what they tell me to do, as long as I'm allowed to do it.  I really don't want to have to reinstate the bricks that will have to come out to get the old fireplace and chimney liner in, but surely they'll prefer me to have a stove than an open fire.  It's going to make a huge difference to the warmth of the house in winter and be easier and safer - much as I love an open fire - and less polluting too.  I don't have central heating and it really isn't feasible to put it in.

The house will be at sixes and sevens for the blog party, but it really doesn't matter.  It's the company that counts.  And the food.  

Age is more than just a number and we shouldn't pretend

 Various things have been ticked off the list, but it still gets longer.  However, I feel generally optimistic about a lot of them.  And my next post will be a cheerful one about the progress I'm making.

What is less cheering is the matter of the problems facing Pam and Peter, in part because they can't accept how grave these are.  It's nearly 4 months since Peter had his stroke and, though he's a lot better than he was then, he has no movement at all in his right arm or leg, he still needs a small amount of thickener in drinks and not much texture to chew in food, or else he might choke.  He still believes he will recover, but he does little to help that to happen.  He has some simple exercises to do - basically, to lift his bad arm with his good arm, to exercise them both.  He's supposed to do 10 repetitions of 4 exercises, 3 times a day and he doesn't.  I'm not confident he does any of them.  Nor does he do the cycling exercise, where the good leg powers the cycle machine, but it moves the other leg too.  I think he believes he will heal spontaneously, like a cut or a fracture does, but he's not making progress in his physiotherapy sessions either any more, and complains that they hurt him when they move him - it's really that he's not trying very hard, so they have to push and pull him more.  They have made it clear that he has to do the work and ask to be taken to the cycling machine, it's his effort and mental attitude that count.  He's a lovely man, but will relax as long as he can, it is always Pam who's been the driving force.

Yesterday, he was very upset, because he had been told that he won't be likely to drive again and that the DVLA should be given his licence back.  He asked Pam if she thinks he's fit to drive and she said no.  He said, she had really disappointed him by saying this, as a quite hurtful criticism.  Yet he cannot sit up properly, unsupported.  He can't, for example, sit on the edge of the bed and move to a wheelchair.  He needs a hoist and two people to be moved.  He does nothing to help dress himself or really do anything else.  The OT woman used the fact that, though he can see on his left side, he is unobservant as a result of the stroke and it would not be safe for him to drive.  She kindly didn't point out that he can't even get into the driver's seat.  With a paralysed left leg, he could not move from a chair to a car seat on the driver's side, even if he could then operate the controls.  Which he couldn't.  He's totally in denial, but if he truly faced the situation, he might give up hope.

A social care woman came to talk to them while I was there and I stayed, with permission.  She gave options and their likely costs, which shocked them - as well it might.  Peter is determined to go home and not into a care home, but he has no comprehension - this is not a lack of intelligence or mental ability, but an inability to face up to it - of how disabled he is.  Even Pam, who is facing it more, thinks that, once he's home, she'll get him to do his exercises and it'll transform his abilities.  This is unlikely to happen.  They need various adaptations to the house - mostly, the ground floor is all right, but there are no suitable washing or toilet facilities.  He thinks that the bathroom would be usable, but it wouldn't, the shower is a good size but there's a step to get in it and it's not wide enough for a wheelchair and a carer.  Besides, he hasn't given any thought to how he'd get upstairs.  He wouldn't be safe on a stair lift and the staircase isn't suitable anyway as it has a half landing and the wall is on the wrong side (the staircase splits to left and right at the half landing and the bathroom is on the banister side).  A lift would take up half the landing and half the study and a hoist would then be needed in both the living room downstairs and the bedroom upstairs.  He needs a wet room downstairs instead.  Rather than give up the study, however, he wants to use part of the garage and access it via the utility room.  But the wheelchair doesn't have room to manoeuvre around to that, it would need two tight turns, and a lot of building work would be needed.  Comparatively easy would be conversion of the study to a wet room (the small downstairs toilet is next to it) and I suggested to Pam, on the way home, that she asks her plumber to come round, look at it and give an opinion and say how soon he could do it - they want him to move out in the next few weeks.  She said, he's very helpful, he even kindly offered to drive her over to see Peter if she needs help.  I explained that creating a whole new bathroom is a bit more time consuming than two hours to help her visit her husband, which hadn't occurred to her.  

I'm so sorry for them and I'm doing what I can, whilst not getting emotional about it, which wouldn't help.  The social care person is visiting their house next Thursday and I've offered to be there.  I'll take notes and help to explain.  She said she appreciated my input, when I asked if I was a nuisance when I chipped in and I think she meant it.  

It makes me annoyed when people say 'oh, but age is just a number."  Really, it isn't.  Fine if you're in good health, but even then being 80 is not the same as being 40.  Your attitude and approach to life makes a huge difference, but age counts.  We are all in denial.  I am, I'm not pretending I'm not.  But at least I know it.

Zoë''s busy but excellent day

 It's been a better day than I'd expected.  First I went to Rose's place, to drop of some suitcases as she's moving house tomorrow,  Always lovely to see her, of course.  Then, Wink and I went into Norwich and had a straightforward lunch in the cafe at the Forum, of bread and soup. We went our separate ways after that, as we both had some shopping to do before my optician's appointment.

It became a bit amusing because the chap who did the sight test didn't ask me to remove my contact lens and we mutually apologised, when my eye test make so much little sense.  But even after that was sorted out, my sight has improved, oddly.  I need new glasses and new contact lens, because - excuse me while I speak up - MY EYESIGHT HAS IMPROVED, markedly.

I'm not complacent, just grateful.  I can still read without glasses.  I'm 71.  My sight isn't far from perfect and I have no idea how I've come to be so lucky,  If it all goes tits up in a year or two, you absolutely can remind me that I appreciated it while I had it

I wasn't right about the separate ways at that time, because we both went to the market after lunch, I bought local peas, potatoes, cucumber, raspberries, tomatoes and a few other less local things.  So delicious that I ate most of them raw, rather than waiting for the local crab that was meant to be the main course.

Now, I'm so tired that I've had to edit almost every word in the last paragraph.  Tomorrow, darlings.  I've got a whole lot of library books and, if I have any more energy (spoiler: I haven't) I'll just read.  

If Z's epitaph reads 'She was useful' then Z will be fine with that

 I've booked nearly all the speakers for Nadfas next season, which is September to June.  I'm waiting for two replies and I've kept one more month free, in case someone can't do the month I've suggested.  I've also booked October next year, as that speaker can't come in January.  It's taken hours of work, but I've enjoyed it.  I wish I could book all the speakers I want, but there are only ten months when we meet.

One speaker has a disability and walks with a frame, so I'm just making sure all the arrangements will work, which I'm sure won't be a problem.  There's level access to the theatre, as long as he can manage a gradual slope and he can stay at ground level instead of the stage.  The pub where we have lunch is an old building, with several steps down from the road, but there's level access from the car park and we'll ask for lunch in the dining room rather than the smaller room we usually have to ourselves.  You know, I've been put on this earth to be useful, it's what I'm best at.  

I woke up early, around 5 o'clock, though I didn't get up for a couple of hours because I hate getting up early.  It's now 6pm and I'm feeling almost ready for bed, which is silly.  Sometimes, after rising early, I need a nap before noon.  Which reminds me, the chickens are still being such good girls.  They're thrilled to go out and croon happily all day in the garden, but put themselves to bed in the middle of the afternoon. 

Tomorrow, I'm taking some boxes and suitcases over to Rose, because she's moving house on Tuesday.  She hasn't got all her furniture where she is, as it was a temporary home, but clothes, books and so on take up more boxes than you'd think.  After seeing her, Wink and I will mooch around Norwich for a while and then I'll have an eye test, just a routine one.  Then back the next day to be useful again, Nadfas on Wednesday, return to Norwich to the dentist on Thursday morning and then back to take Pam to visit Peter - I'm assuming that, as I haven't been in touch yet.  Friday, meeting Weeza - yes, in Norwich again - to choose tiles for the kitchen and I may have time to go into the wallpaper shop too. 

I seem to have offered to cook for 50 people for Sunday, but I need to check the arrangements.  It's just slow-roast pork overnight, as far as I know, but I may have volunteered myself for more.  Useful, you see.  It's what I am.  

Z expands

 As the header says, the blog party will be on 16th August.  As always, guests are welcome to stay, the more people here, the happier `I am.  How chaotic the house will be is uncertain, but no one comes here expecting any sort of tidiness and it'll just be wilder than usual.  

My children telling me that I shouldn't worry about moving, but prepare the house for the long term has taken away a pressure that I didn't know I felt.  I'm planning to use the whole house, in a way I don't usually.  When you've got more bedrooms than you need to sleep in, you tend to shut them up.  But why should I?  So I'm moving more bookcases into the furthest bedroom and I'll also move Tim's big tv and hifi system there and it'll be given a new purpose.  It'll make room in the study, which will be another dining room too.  That'll make three.  It's ideal for the mornings as it faces east and south.  It will also be something of a kitchen extension and still be a study, so it's just a room for me to eat breakfast and lunch in - the reason my children realise there's little chance of me downsizing is becoming clear.

It's not that I have any objection to moving somewhere smaller, it's just that nothing suitable is ever built.  People want somewhere big enough for their nicest furniture and they don't want steep staircases and they do want some privacy.  They want at least one spare room, a study, a dining room and storage space.  But people who have a family and are looking to upsize want the same thing.  Starter homes are not suitable for people preparing for old age.  Narrow cloakroom that there's no chance of getting into with a walking frame, a narrow, steep staircase that's dangerous to come down, with no space for a stairlift and the bathroom never has a shower that an old person can use, not if they need a chair or someone to help them.  The retirement complexes that are built are certainly usable and I've got friends who are very happy there, but they're a nightmare to sell, if the owner needs care or dies, and huge service charges are payable, even if no one is living there.  Not that it would suit me, at any age.  But anyway, I'm planning to spread out right here.

Z cracks on

 Right up until the day before I planning to leave, I intended to go to Wales.  But I hadn't contacted the people I'd meant to call on, so I knew that my heart wasn't in it, as I said in the previous post.  If I'd gone to Scotland, I'd have had my laptop and wifi, but I wouldn't have any internet in Wales, apart from occasionally on my phone.  I wouldn't get anything done and I really couldn't spare the time, though I wanted to go.  Then, on the night before I was due to leave, I felt faint again - in the bathroom as I was getting ready for bed.  I managed to sit down (on the toilet, not the floor) and I think I did faint, though I didn't fall.  It was the soan papdi that did it.  It's so delicious.  I had opened a box (that I'd had for ages and it needed to be used, I convinced myself).  I'd eaten a bit every night or two, but it doesn't keep all that long - which was why I'd resisted it for a year or so - and that night, I'd eaten two large cubes.  I think it was all the sugar.  I don't normally eat much sugar and I think my blood sugar rushed up and then crashed.  Lesson learned.  I'd also learnt my lesson from the time I fainted at the top of the stairs.  Once I felt well enough to move, I crawled across the landing to my bedroom.

Of course, driving 350 miles the next day was not a good idea, so I waited, just in case it was something more than that and I was getting a virus of some sort - and decided to stay home.  I had written a lengthy to-do list and asked Wink to enquire pointedly about progress every day.  I've cracked on, too.  I've written the newsletter, emailed and booked a couple more speakers, emailed and confirmed arrangements with next week's speakers, written up the feedback for the last speaker.  I've emptied the L'toft china cabinets and sorted out the porcelain.  I'm in the process of emptying the two big bookcases in the study, in preparation for taking them upstairs - this is going to be quite a job, I'm not sure if it's possible without sawing one in half first.  I've chosen and paid for the kitchen flooring, which will be put in the study too as I'm opening up the doorway between that room and the kitchen.  I've got the kitchen units and worktop chosen and am waiting for the quote before ordering.  I've had a quote from the decorator and accepted it.  Weeza kindly came over yesterday to help me with the listed building form.  It's not finished, I still have some writing to do, to send to her, we need some info from the woodburner firm and she has photos and plans to upload.  

There's still a lot on the list, but none of this would have been done if I had gone away.  I'm sorry to say that I didn't tell Pam of my change of plans, as I'd then have found myself offering to take her to the hospital and, as she knew she'd have to make other arrangements, I've left it at that.  I won't tell her.  It'd hurt her feelings and I feel quite bad about it already.  I love her and Peter and I'm very willing to take her, but I needed time to get on with things.  I'm also busy next week, but I'll make time for them on Thursday, after going to the dentist.  

I finally let the chickens out today.  They could have gone out earlier, but one of Wink's chooks had, we're not sure how, managed to get out and she'd vanished.  We thought a fox must have got her.  But, several days later, she came back.  We think she'd laid an egg, sat on it and then was hungry so came for some food.  So it wasn't a daytime fox - but then we had rain and wind, so I left the girlies indoors.  Today, however, I opened the door of the run.  The six chickens in the run were thrilled and came out at once and I left the door open.  Eight more were in nest boxes, being lazy.  But later, when I went to check, four of those were outside too.  All but two came in at 5 o'clock and those were having such a lovely scratch in the compost heap that I left them.  The good girls came back a while later and all is well.  Scrabble is now over 10 years old and still looking fine.  She loves being hand-fed mealworms, but joins in with the others when I feed them treats and she is never picked on.  They're nice-natured bantams and don't bully old or weaker chickens although, if you watch for a while, you see there's a pecking order.  I make sure they all get their fair share. 

Z's trip is in the balance

 I'm struggling to take a week off, there's just so much to do.  I'll see how it goes.  I have made a list, so it may make more sense to stay and deal with it than to have it facing me on my return.

Of most concern at present is the lack of reply to three emails.  One is to the lecturer on Wednesday week, just to confirm arrangements.  The others are potential lecturers in October and December.  If they can't come, I need to find someone else fairly rapidly.  Or sometwo.  I'll give it one more day and send a polite nag.  I shouldn't have to.  I've rechecked their email addresses.  Even if they're on holiday, who doesn't check emails?  Or, if that's impossible, have an out of office reply?

Tomorrow, I'll continue to plod through my list.