The Manor is getting overcrowded.
The house is still full of crap that I cleared out of the
Junk Room Office Back Room. In fact the only place in which I can move around freely is in my own little corner by the window.
The plan is to order a skip. However that has to be well planned in advance as there is a heap of rubble on the terrace that has to go into said skip. And to shift that rubble I need a wheelbarrow. But the wheelbarrow is fucking useless as its wheel is fucked. So I have to buy a spare wheel for the wheelbarrow first and then see if I can fit it. For some reason it costs €30 for a wheel [the most complicated part of a wheelbarrow?] but a new barrow costs around €85. €55 for a frame?
Then of course I have to have labour to help me cart all the crap out of the house. There is already a considerable pile out there and the neighbours are starting to give me funny looks.
We had a load of visitors yesterday [I’ll come back to the clutter in a moment].
Nursey called again yesterday morning and brought a friend – a sort of nursing apprentice, or maybe a PA?]. I opened the door and her face fell. There she was expecting to see my Adonis body in all its glory, while I was actually fully dressed [Penny got me up early]. I had to explain to the PA [or whatever she was] that Nursey didn’t recognise me with my clothes on. She gave Nursey and me a funny look.
Anyways, they fussed over Herself and left some more shit around for me to tidy.
In the afternoon we had yet another visitor – a physiotherapist. Better looking than any model – if only I were 40 years younger – but she did give me her number so there’s hope yet? She was good at her job too and had Herself screaming in agony in no time at all. Excellent!
This morning another girl arrived who is apparently an Occupational Therapist. She was incredibly keen to load us with yet more hardware and junk. I managed to whittle her down to a little metal attachment for the new bed and a cushion. I only took those on the condition that she send someone to clear some of the other junk that the Health people had dumped on us.
I dream of the days when the place was peaceful.
When I’m not dreaming about the Physiotherapist of course.