Things are not going well at the Manor.
You see I have been told to take things easy and not to get worried or annoyed about anything. I am not supposed to lift anything or in any way exert myself.
I tried all that for a while in spite of all Herself’s pleas for help and assistance, but she began to smell a bit after a while so I had to row back a bit on that idea.
The worst bit is the scribbling. I know that doesn’t take much effort in the physical sense but the fact is that I have nothing to scribble about. Writing about nothing is a feat I haven’t yet mastered.
I know there are things going on in the world. The Americans have invaded County Clare for the second time and have been so bored they went home again. Britain is once again tying itself in knots thereby proving yet again that its politicians can’t fight their way out of a wet paper bag. But I am supposed to be ignoring all that, which is surprisingly easy to do.
So I spent yesterday wondering what to write about. The urge was there but the well was dry.
And I’m doing the same thing again today.
I may not have had a heart attack but I do know the feeling well. Since my physical disabilities have become worse I do more sitting around than anything else. Add that plus everything else in my life and things are pretty much as dry as the well you're writing about.
Still, I keep the old blog up to date and occasionally I write something. I always have the urge though. In your case I'd say, give it time. I've been dealing with and getting around these disabilities of mine for a long time now so I'm somewhat used to the idea. You however have just recently become, shall we say, debilitated and that takes some time to get used to. You also have a good chance on getting a bit better, I hope?
Don't let it get you down, that's important. One day at a time, my friend.
It's a sad state of affairs if you have to wait until I have a heart attack before you have something to write about? I'll pass on your email address to Doc so you have a constant source of inspiration.
Nah, not at all. I was already working on this when your heart attack interrupted me.
What you need is a new rifle and some tourists! I'm overstocked on FN-FAL's, like the Brits used to use in Norn Iron. I can ship you one with 1000 rounds of ammo for under $2K. I'll FEDEX it to ya'
The cheque is in the post.
Some tales from days at the national broadcaster?
Those days are deliberately erased from memory.
Well you could have managed on simple K.
4th para 2nd sentence.
Rehab GD. Embrace it. Graveyards are chocka with deniers, mostly those who acted their mental age. And next birthday you hit the biblical definition of life span. All else is gratis.
Does irk that Soros is 89 and Blomberg 77.
Mentally I'm still in my thirties [and sometimes in my teens]. Unfortunately the body has different ideas and bits keep falling off. All I can do is to keep patching it up with string and chewing gum.
That's your problem right there. String rots and chewing gum always loses it's sticky. Try bailing wire, super glue and duct tape. Much better.
Thoughts with you as an attackee.
Well sir, you're doing a brilliant job at writing about nothing. Keep it up.