annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Ramp
Scroll past these pics quickly and you'll see Elder daughter, seven years ago, learning to use the ramp outside her mobile home
I am grateful to Facebook's 'On this day' feature, for re-igniting my dormant fury at ED's partner, who always did fuck all to help her. This ramp was quite steep for a person with not very strong arms, and there was a sharp corner at the bottom, then a tight squeeze between the other corner and the shed, where her hands had to come off the wheels to get through, then a scratchy shrubby bit, then a bumpy path. She felt she couldn't do it and he just shrugged and said, "Well that was a waste of time and money then, wasn't it?" and that was the end of it for over a week till I went up there and just encouraged her, told her it would be OK to stop at any point and put the brakes on, to use the handrails to haul herself up, whatever. And look how proud and pleased she was when she got to the top. Seven years ago.
In other news:
I take my teeth out as soon as I get home. I hate the fucking things. Soon I'll be getting new ones though, which I hope won't be as loose and won't keep falling about in my mouth. Yesterday while I was having lunch in a pub, they fell down as I was chewing and a bit of crispy roast potato skin got stuck underneath, which really fucking hurt.
Younger Daughter is OK, I think. The rain has stopped.
I have made quite a lot of sea glass jewellery - now I just need to take photos of it and make a selling page. This needs to happen double quick in time for people to buy it to give to other people.
Today lots of people have said or written nice things to me and it's made me feel very weepy, in a different kind of way to my usual sobbing sort of shit. Thank you to everyone. Cognitive dissonance apparently.
I spent three hours in a pub this morning with my friend Welsh M, chatting, then went to a cafe to meet J, my friend from Vegas (well, back home from Vegas, briefly), and we spent a couple more hours chatting, then I went to the beach with the dog and walked 3.7 miles which makes my total for the year 997.2, so I will complete my 1000 miles tomorrow.
The pest control bloke came today and left poison in little boxes that the dog can't get in which will make the mice dehydrated so they'll try and get out to find water and will die. I don't like this AT ALL, but I haven't quite got the nerve to not do it. It makes me feel like a murderer - can I really not share my space with a few little mice? All the rescue cats apparently need a home without a dog, though I'd have said that about Bob but she got used to Shirley, despite being eighteen years old when a bouncy puppy came into her life - they were pals in the end
11:46 p.m. - 22.10.18
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