annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Wednesday, still mainly moaning


  1. I did go and see my daughter on Sunday - she seemed OK, but stuck in bed as the headrest has broken on her wheelchair and wheelchair services took the bit away and never came back. Fuckers. This is where the privatisation of the NHS is starting to bite. Wheelchair services was put up for tender and a local private company won it and they can't meet the need. I have no idea how it's all meant to be run, but this lot don't have enough money to have someone answering the phone - it all goes to answerphone.

  2. Thursday night now. I'm starting to get out and about a bit, but it still takes it out of me. I went to the private view at the recovery centre yesterday of our art in the Artists' Open Houses, which was cool, but I suddenly arrived at done and that was the end of me. I'm still all about the physical feebleness, so fucking fed up with it.

  3. Here are my postcards:FA8AD410-8A08-4898-AC86-A3135336529E F3C6E938-9A26-4904-8C89-E7CBC132BAB6 33B4B5C4-5755-483E-977A-E5BFE6829AAE[gallery ids="170153,170152,170151,170150"]

    They are on sale at the recovery centre and the acupuncture clinic and selling quite well at £1 each.  If you want to buy one let me know in the notes/comments. You can have all seven for a fiver, plus 70p p&p in the UK, haven't worked out what it is to the US or wherever, but not much.


  4.  

    We had masses of fish in our pond then suddenly there were hardly any and the other day we spotted a fucking seagull catching one in its beak, flicking it up and swallowing it whole.  All the coloured ones have gone and all that's left are the black ones you can hardly see. Boo. It was very soothing and restful to sit and watch the fish but what can we do? Netting or whatever is just ugly and complicated with the plants growing up through it and the need to get in and clear out blanket weed. Ah well.


  5. I am so sick of not being able to do things. Although I've been out a few times, I still can't walk any distance - I mean, less than a hundred yards and I'm done - so I can't walk the dog, I can't go to the beach, let alone litter-pick, I can't be out taking photos of the sunset. Bloke has done loads, but he doesn't walk Shirley every day, let alone the two or three she usually has and she hasn't had a single walk of a decent length since the day I got ill (April 6th, 4.2 miles over the downs - seems like a fantasy now). I still don't feel I have enough concentration to drive the car. I keep thinking I'll drive round the block tomorrow but so far I've been able to tell I'm not there. Fuck this shit. I mean, really.

  6. I am grateful for: hot water bottle; netflix (finally starting Orange is the New Black); getting a blog post done; selling postcards; wheelchair services mending the headrest this morning


Night night, sleep tight xx

11:36 p.m. - 09.05.19

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