BEFORE YOU START: Please note that although I currently volunteer for both the Stroke Association and Age UK, the views expressed in this blog are strictly my own. I am not a spokesperson for either (or, indeed, for any) organisation. I am based in the UK and the blog therefore has a UK bias - I've tried to use the Glossary to explain any terms which might be ambiguous, but if you think there is anything I've missed, please message me. Lastly, you'll find typos here, although I do my best to correct them. There are reasons for this, which you'll discover as you read.

Tuesday, 4 July 2017


An eventful weekend, not particularly in a pleasant way.

Daughter come over - she'd been having trouble with her gall bladder again and had been in hospital - ostensibly to get some rest, but also to bury a couple of her guinea pigs, who had died quite coincidentally within a day of each other. I attempted to help by finding the spade for her, and was opening the garage door, when BANG, my daughter had come through the back of the garage, saw the door opening, and decided to push at door, at the same time as I was pulling. So, needless to say, there were lots of cries of pain, and I ended with a bruised and cut shin.

Then, on Sunday, I went through to the kitchen, without anybody telling me that they'd just wiped the floor and that it was currently quite slippery. So, over I go, slipping over onto my knee. So yesterday was spent in a fair amount of pain.

My family is funny about these things. They act as though, because these things are all accidents, that they hadn't intended for these things to happen, that they are no big deal. That in both cases I'm lying on the floor in pain doesn't seem to matter. It's reminiscent to me of the tiny difference between murder and manslaughter - sure, the intention comes into it, but you still have a dead body at the end of it.

It is my daughter's 18th birthday in a couple of weeks, and there is an amount of money, from my late mother, that we agreed she'd inherit when she was eighteen. In fact, I'd got so tired of hearing "can I have some money for this?" or "can I have money for that?" that I thought I'd signed everything over to her six months ago, but it turns out that there are forms to sign. Daughter had obviously found this out when she tried to access the cash, and mentioned this on Sunday night. So, I get up on Monday, and this all needs to be sorted that day. So I'm basically driven into Salisbury to sign this form, and to cap it all, daughter was unhappy at the amount of money i the account. I mean, given the current tiny interest rates, I didn't think it had done too badly, but Daughter was grumpy. Possibly she'd forgotten about the times that she'd already dipped into the account for stuff?

Anyway, it all angered me. Daughter is never satisfied, regardless. This is something that has never changed. No matter how much you do for her, she is never satisfied. But in the face of this ingratitude, my wife reminded her that she's lucky to get this. Most kids don't get anything. Certainly I'm not inclined to do anything for her, in the light of all the trouble she's caused for me, although I do feel honour-bound to carry out my mum's wishes.But I'm hoping it is now all over.

I must also pay tribute to Peony, one of our hens, who died last week. We were both quite upset, as Peony was our favourite of the hens, and was extremely likeable. Peony was always the brave one to come into the house, once she walked all the way through the lounge and ended up in the hallway! I'm not sure what happened, she seemed fine one day but was gone the next. She's the first chicken who's died on us, so we have no idea if this is typical. But she was only around three years old, so not particularly old. It is very sad.
Peony, 2014-2017

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