Games we play . .

MyMan encourages me to get out and enjoy myself "as much as possible". Then when I do he says how dead the place seems without me. I try to save a day a week when we can go out together. And I'm always home Saturdays and Sundays holding myself in readiness for a jaunt out somewhere together.

We agreed we would go out on Sunday this weekend. Once again I waited for MyMan to surface from his slumbers. We had a similar conversation as we do prior to every trip out together. "Where shall we go?" he asks me. "I must get a walk in, somehow. . ." he said. I draw breathe to reply and he suddenly suggests "Burrow Farm Garden - I love it there . . . ". Surprised as he rarely suggests anything that he'd like to do I draw breathe again to agree. Before I can open my mouth he tells me "that's no good - it will make your hay fever worse".

I disagree. My hay fever is bad enough here where we are surrounded by at least 8 fields of rape. Especially after spending a few hours toiling in the garden. Although the symptoms of hay fever can feel like a dose of flu there is no way I will allow it to limit what I want to do. I tell him so. Irritable now he tells me he doesn't want me to go somewhere where I'll feel the worse for going. He'll forgo the visit to save me discomfort. But wistfully tells me " I do so love it there". .

I decide I'll go anyway at which point he says he feels it will be too far for him today. He doesn't want to do a long journey. 'Long' means about 12 miles and will take about 20 minutes.

I think I'm beginning to learn the rules of this 'new game'. But he doesn't like how I play.

Three Wheels on my Wagon

Well - the diet has definitely been off for the last couple of days. I was feeling spaced out on Saturday. Then yesterday I just felt so cold all day. In the afternoon I ended up wrapped up in my dressing gown clutching a hot water bottle and eating anything and everything in sight while I sat and watched 'Gone With the Wind' on TCM. I have never seen it before. Amazing seeing as I am nearly 60 and the film is 10 years older than I.

Today I have the start of a cold. I feel crabby and clutzy. If there is anything to bang into, trip or fall over, I have. I have bruised ankles and ache from head to foot. I had toast for breakfast, ham/tomato sandwich and big CAKE for lunch and am trying to desist from eating biscuits with an afternoon cuppa. I am trying to get back on the straight and narrow.

MyMan is barely talking to me. As I feel crabby I have a very short temper. He only has to sound slightly peevishly queroulous and I am biting back sharpish. Yesterday he couldn't understand why I was watching 'trashy' TV - today he wishes I still was. There isn't room in this house for more than one invalid. I've been out to stock up on orange juice, fruit and food for the week (in case I get worse). Tomorrow MyMan may have to take his own prescription into town.