Today is always a date that brings a little drop of sadness.
Already, today is a second shorter than yesterday and so the long slide towards winter begins. The only consolation being that days tend to be a little warmer for a while. And there is the remote possibility of a holiday sometime in the coming months. We shall see.
Today is also Sperm Donor’s Day [or Father’s Day as some like to call it]. I find it a little strange celebrating an unknown but probably drunken date sometime in October forty two years ago this year. Little did I know at the time that that moment of happiness would lead to an annual celebration but there you go. Life is strange.
I have to head off in an hour or so for another hospital visit.
This time it’s an eye thing where they will take great delight in blinding me with bright lights, dilating my pupils so everything is too bright and the ultimate – poking things into my eyeballs. If the nuisance of this trip isn’t enough, they’re going to make another appointment for another trip in the next few days to see the specialist who will tell me that all the tests show I’m fine.
Actually I’m not fine. My sight has changed a bit over time and I need new spectacle lenses but I have put off making an appointment with that lot until the current madness subsides somewhat. This afternoon’s mob are only interested in one thing and that’s whether my eyeballs are going to explode. They couldn’t give a shit about whether I can see clearly through said eyeballs, just so long as they can charge me for their time. Maybe I should charge them for my time?
To be honest it wouldn’t surprise me if things aren’t fine today. I am supposed to put drops into my eyes every night [and they can suddenly sting sometimes which isn’t funny] and for a while I forgot. When I have to take eight tablets and capsules every morning, another eight [or sometimes ten] tablets and capsules at night and then spray stuff up my nostrils morning and night followed by ramming q-tips covered in ointment up each nostril morning and night, it’s very easy to overlook sticking eyedrops into each eye every night.
For a start, I have to phone ahead and book my pint of stout. Do I have to give them a day’s notice or can I phone on my way down? They don’t seem to be very clear on that point.
Then when I arrive I have to have a “substantial” meal along with my pint. Now apparently a substantial meal either consists of what I would normally have for dinner, or failing that, any meal costing more than nine yoyos. Why nine is significant I don’t know but apparently it is. Pubs will probably just charge nine yoyos for a packet of crisps or a pack of peanuts. For years now they have been charging small fortunes for a glass of tap water so I suppose people just won’t notice.
Having arrived at my appointed time and received my pre-ordered pint of stout, along with my overcharged packet of crisps [or peanuts] I then have just ninety minutes before I am thrown out again. Again I am not sure of the significance of the ninety. Maybe they just have a thing for nines? They probably initially suggested nine minutes drinking time until a modicum of common sense prevailed.
I don’t know how they are going to time my visit. Will I have to clock in? Will I be given a ticket as if I were in a car park indicating my expiry time? Will all customers be issued with kitchen timers programmed to ping after ninety minutes?
I suppose some will say that it’s worth the hassle just to socialise with friends. But then the ubiquitous Unsocial Distancing will put paid to that idea
I’m beginning to see the attractions of just having a quiet whiskey at home.
There is a threat out there but few seem aware of it.
I speak of something far far worse that anything dreamed up in a laboratory in Wuhan in China or indeed in Porton Down. Bird flu is chicken feed and Corona is just watery beer by comparison.
I refer of course to the impending overthrow of humanity by the wheelie bin.
The invasion had humble starts. One by one they started appearing outside people’s houses. No one really took any notice of them. Then they started to multiply and are now reproducing at an alarming rate. I know I started with just one, yet somehow I now have four, lurking in the front garden by the gate watching. That’s what they do – they watch. They are waiting for their time to come.
It was our Penny who alerted me to this danger. She is a very friendly dog and will be all over any knacker who comes in the gate looking to fix my roof or tarmac my driveway. But if the pope himself walked up the lane dragging a wheelie bin behind him, well, the world would be on the lookout for a new pope. She is wise to the ways of the wheelie bin and had the great sense to alert me.
They seem to be programmed or given their orders or something by huge lorries that come thundering up the road. That lorry used to come just once a fortnight but now it is joined by others coming twice a week, which just goes to show the alarming growth of the menace.
They somehow seem to have hypnotised the population into feeding them. They always seem to be full of shit and once the lorries have visited they appear to be hungry again.
So next time you are around the side of your house, or wherever it is that they lurk on your property, just watch them.
There is an aspect of disability I had never considered.
Having a disabled person in the house requires quite a lot of equipment. Most of it is a once-off thing but some items have to be bought on a regular basis.
There is one thing all these items seem to have in common though – there seems to be some kind of law that everything has to be packed in huge cardboard boxes. And I really mean huge. Even if the item is relatively small it comes in a huge box mainly full of scrumpled up paper to fill the cavernous empty spaces.
In the early days I used to cut them up. It was a tedious job, hacking at corrugated cardboard with a butcher’s knife and them ramming the bits into the recycle bin. I soon got tired of it. So now I just flatten them and stick ’em in the garage. There’s a mountain of them now.
One of these days I am going to tie them all up into a massive bundle and leave them out on recycle day. The problem is that I don’t have any string. I know that’s a small problem as all I have to do is to buy a ball of string down in the village. But I keep forgetting.