Heanor Haulage Auction...

Hmmmm, I don't know what to think about the land surrounding us now my friend and neighbour has discovered Heanor Haulage is auctioning off their entire fleet of lorries - and stuff - next month ... to concentrate on warehousing and storage.

There have been men from both HH and Network Rail with clipboards twice this week and some stuff - not railway tracks - went on a lorry on Wednesday.

I'm expecting plans to go in again for the human rabbit hutches to be built behind us ... they've already got outline planning permission for the poky dwellings

And then there's the land - teenage dump ghetto - next to the railway lines which they deliberately contaminated with tons and tons of spoil - 3ft deep - bulldozed over the trees ... from when Asda was built. This was deemed the 'only area of ecological interest' in the reports - I read EVERYTHING - but was ... 'out of the area being built on, so was safe'.

It took me two reports to the council - there were fibs told after the first one about a little pile of spoil behind Asda, which ... 'We're going to move ASAP' - and several photos to get that sorted.

Three months later a group of men turned up with a digger ... the driver of which actually asked me if I wanted a photo of him for my blog ... I was in disguise and my camera was hidden under my coat at the time.

Twelve lorries - from several firms - came and went all day, every day for a week to do 'the remedial work' ... I never did find out where they took it. And then they had to plant hundreds of trees. Must have cost a fortune ... I hope...

Unfortunately by now the only area of ecological interest was gone ... and became a prime candidate for more hutches to be built on. The outline plans went in and then were withdrawn ... something to do with needing to sell some before they could afford the council bribe money - s106 - and they want to use our narrow 36 house street for all the new 118-ish dwelling hutchery when it's built

And then there's the bit between us and Asda. That was meant to be the HH workshop which didn't happen. We've not been threatened with anything else there ... yet.

Alternate Day Fasting Tips from An Old Pro...

1. Don't think of ADF or any form of intermittent fasting as a diet, regard it as a lifestyle because you WILL need to follow some form of fasting for the rest of your life. Thinking you'll need to be on a 'diet' forever is downright depressing.

2.Don't hate your fasting days, try to enjoy them as much as possible

3. Nothing is written in stone, if you want or need to swap days then do it. Don't have an extra fast day by way of 'punishment', only do it because you want to

4. If you don't want to eat anything because once started, you can't stop. Then don't ... because this is right for YOU ... added benefits to make this idea easier ... you're likely to lose weight faster.

5. Find something you really like to eat on your fasting days. There's no reason at all - other than hoping it tastes so bad you don't want it - for not enjoying these meals ... you'll be following this lifestyle for a l-o-n-g time.

6. Experiment. If you really can't cope with 500 cals or less try daily eating windows, or ... have more calories. There's no real reason to stick with 500 cals, especially in the early days when it's tough and you've got a lot of weight to lose.

800 cals of something you enjoy - and are likely to repeat - is far better than 400 cals of something that tastes like ... umm, shite - been there, done that - because this is likely to put you off the whole idea of fasting and you'll likely feel deprived.

7. Have mini goals with treats to look forward to ... if you want a ginormous pizza for your treat, have it ... but if you do, you may have to reach the same goal again a week later ... so this time have diamonds ... or is that just me?

8. Have planned holidays/vacations, if you want to minimise damage, use eating windows ... ie 16-18 hour daily fasts. Otherwise enjoy your holiday and come back happy to do a fasting day ... I'm always sooooooo relieved to get back to fasting after a week of munchy days

9. Don't feel guilty about holidays, you'll lose any gained weight in no time ... quick on, quick off.

10. If ever you find yourself eating out of control or binging, remember most of this lifestyle is a mind game. Do not punish yourself!! Forget self loathing - been there, done that, totally not worth it - just carry on eating and tell yourself you're on holiday and you'll get right back to it ASAP ... and mean it.

Any feelings of guilt at this point can make you throw in the towel permanently ... and that's not fair to you after you've already done so well ... if it makes you feel better and easier to get back into a fasting routine, treat yourself to something nice - like diamonds ... er, that's just me again isn't it? - because you're worth it.

And finally ... don't get caught up with the idea that 'fasting' 3 or 4 days a week is good so 5 or 6 must be better. It may well be in the short term, but that's when our bodies panic and hang on to every calorie for dear life ... because it needs to. It has no idea that your brain knows what it's doing - also been there and done that - and assumes you're starving. This buggers up your metabolism.

If you do find it's happened to you - because your brain thinks it's smarter than your body - then expect to gain weight when you get back to your regular routine. It isn't permanent, so don't panic and start eating less again, just ride it out...

Railway Sidings Application Withdrawn.

I received an email from AVBC one night last week telling me that the application had been withdrawn. Nothing to get too excited about though as they've still got permission to build rabbit hutches dwellings behind us ... and they'll probably submit a similar application later

I'd have written about it sooner but I received the email the same day our beloved Daewoo Matiz broke down for the final time - that's another blog post waiting in drafts - and it's been a busy week with lots more pressing things on my mind ... OK, I forgot all about it until I checked my statcounter and noticed DEFRA had visited a couple of times lately and wondered why. Actually they'd been looking at the temporary car wash post. The same car wash that's becoming ever more permanent ... but I digress.

Reference: AVA/2014/0790
Proposal: Outline application for residential development with access into the site unreserved. All other matters reserved.

Location: Former Exchange Sidings Bridge Street Langley Mill Derbyshire
Applicant Name: Heanor Haulage Company Ltd And HHLM Pension Scheme

This application has been withdrawn. There will be no further action on it and the file will be closed. We will however keep a record of people who have commented so that they can be contacted again.

The application was withdrawn at the request of the applicant/agent to enable the proposals to be reconsidered.

A similar application may be re-submitted at a later date. If so we will write to tell anyone who has shown an interest so that further comments can be made.

Four Years Of Intermittent Fasting

Where has the time gone?

Anyhoo, I thought I'd better do an update - and publish all the other posts I've got waiting in my drafts whilst I'm at it - on how I'm doing.

Well, I'm doing just fine. I've kept my weight off for three years now and no signs of regaining it permanently. Weight lost - it does go up and down a few pounds over a week - is still 60-63lbs. But considering I was gaining 3-4lbs every year, this translates to me being at least 70lbs lighter than I would have been without an easy but significant lifestyle change.

This doesn't however, mean I can eat as much as I think I want on my munchy days. Years of yo-yo dieting - and my delicate age - have conspired against me by slowing my metabolism to a crawl. But I do eat until I'm quite full ... it's just nowhere near as much as the average 50+ year old western woman eats.

Sometimes I have one substantial meal a day - in the evening - for five days a week and the other two I'll eat - and drink - a little more. When I feel I'm gaining weight - this usually adds up to around 4lbs over a month - I'll swap back to 4:3 ... which for me is still only consuming around 500 calories three days a week.

I mostly have similar meals on my fasting days, and have recently stopped counting calories, I can - after all this time - guesstimate it quite well. My favourite meal is Muesli that I mix myself, using Lidl's finest rolled oats, nuts and dried fruit. With full fat milk or double cream and a big blob of yoghurt. Other fasting days I'll have a big salad with eggs/cheese/chicken, and in winter, you can't beat soup.

The only downside I can see to my way of eating is that I still shop for a couple who eat three meals a day. This means that lots of food gets bunged in the freezer, including roast veg. I buy loads, realise I've already got salad in for the next few days, so I roast the veg - in lard and/or olive oil/butter - then freeze it. Actually I first came across that idea - and tried it - last Christmas. Bought all my veg and cooked it fresh a couple weeks before the main event, so on the day it just needed heating up and there was no need to go food shopping in the run up to Crimbo.

I've invested in a Fitbit ... it isn't nice, it wants me to walk more, sleep more, exercise more and eat more most days - this is why I stopped counting calories - and it expects me to climb more stairs ... not easy when you're in a tin hut near the sea.

But I mainly use it because I'm curious about my heart rate. When I was a little chubster my heart rate was a normal 65-ish, once I lost weight I noticed it had dropped to around 53 bpm. I used my smartarse phone to check it and thought it was underestimating it, but the blood pressure monitor - oh, by the way, that's fine too, with an average of 110/70 - was getting a similar reading.

Now it can drop as low as 42 bpm when I'm asleep , but only on the nights following a low calorie/fasting day. I'm also a lot colder then. I surmise from this that my body is quite cleverly trying its level best to slow everything down to keep me alive. The next day my heart rate goes right back up to 53-ish bpm as soon as I've eaten.

Another thing I've noticed - being a lady of a certain age - is that I rarely have hot flushes until I eat, and this is the main reason I prefer one meal a day, even if I do gain a little weight

Holidays - or rather when friends come to stay - are another time I regain LOTS of weight because we tend to eat out and I let myself go. It's not unusual for me to gain 7lbs in one week and takes me roughly three weeks to lose it again. This is no hardship because as much as I enjoy letting my hair down for a week, it's a huge relief to get back to fasting straight after.

Even though I really don't like sport, I'll be eternally grateful to the 2012 Olympics, because without it I'd probably never have watched the Horizon documentary on BBC2 ... 'Eat, Fast, And Live Longer'. I was simply flicking through the channels on the telly, trying to avoid something that makes watching paint dry seem interesting  ... and the rest - as they say - is history.

And the Olympics are almost upon us again ... I wonder what life-changing telly-viewing I'll happen upon this time...

.....

 

1. Me and Alternate Day Fasting
2. Me and Alternate Day Fasting ... Three Weeks On
3. Five Weeks of Alternate Day Fasting
4. Eight Weeks of Alternate Day Fasting
5. Ten Weeks of Alternate Day Fasting
6. Alternate Day Fasting Three Months On
7. Alternate Day Fasting in Winter
8. Alternate Day Fasting Over Christmas
9. Me and Zumba
10. Saying Goodbye To My Curves 
11. Eight Months Of Alternate Day Fasting And Me
12. Growing Up 
13. A Year Of Alternate Day Fasting 
14. 60 Pounds Of Blubber - Vanished
15. The Perils of Alternate Day Fasting 
16. Mr Grumpy Is Losing It
17. Mr Grumpy Has Lost It
18. Fasting For Maintenance
19. Tweaking Maintenance
20. Weight Gain 
21. Still Maintaining
22. Four Years Of Intermittent Fasting

  .....

• ADF Facebook Group ... come and join us :)

My Mercury Transit

Teeny weeny little dot on the left ... the smudge is sunspots

I was ready, I'd been ready for weeks ... just like the Venus transit.

I'd bought an even zoomier camera for the job and made another solar filter, and now I just had to rely on the weather.

I originally thought ... "I know, I'll set the camera up on my tripod, attach the intervalometer and let it take a photo every 10 minutes".

My next - much more sensible - thought was ... "no you won't, you tw*t, the sun - and indeed Earth - will be moving and you'll be taking photos of empty sky".

 

So I had to get up early, do my chores - and some work - so I could sit out for an hour to start with ... as I couldn't contain my excitement long enough to go in and do boring stuff. Then I set a 15 min timer on my smartarse phone to remind me to keep tootling off outside once the novelty wore off.

And I managed to acquire a crispy forehead and red chest ... and kept my fitbitty doodah happy with all the steps ... more about that acquisition another day.

A few hours after first contact

No idea what all the tin hut neighbours thought I was up to - running outside, lobbing one leg over my sun-lounger in a non-ladylike fashion, pointing my camera at the sun, screwing up my face and sticking my tongue out in concentration, then running back in again - but they're used to me being a bit strange...

Defrosting The Freezer - My Way

 

I think I've just used up one of my lives. I was defrosting the freezer - it was desperate - and was taking an eternity. So I got out my hairdryer that I've not used in a decade or more to speed things up ... as you do.

Things were going well and I put it on a shelf in there so I could swap knees whilst sponging out water, peas, loose prawns and berries, when the damn thing launched itself off the shelf straight into my bowl of water ... and it carried on blowing - er - water.

As it all happened so fast my first reaction was to reach down to grab it. It was then that I thought "don't be a such a twat". And switched it off at the plug which sparked satisfyingly at me.

I took my bowl of soapy water with the hairdryer still in to the husband/electrician and told him what I'd done.

Now did he say ... "I'm glad you're alive and didn't try to touch it"? ... did he arsehole? He just said ... "that's cost you a bob or two hasn't it".

I'll show him ... my hairdryer has taken up residence on the radiator until it dries ... what's betting it'll be working again by the next time I do this job...

Update

Guess what? ... I was right, three days of drying on the radiator and it works just fine...

Slow Cooked Pork For Easter

Note to self ... next time one of us decides to slow cook an enormous joint of pork overnight, do it before the whisky takes effect ... none of this was helped by the fact that I'd - wantonly - abandoned my specs and went about my domestic goddessing in a myopic blur.

I chopped an onion and lobbed it in, scattered herbs willy nilly - no idea which ones, they were greenish - glugged in a can of Guinness. Lovely, went and sat down to resume drinking whisky.

Hmmmm, methinks, there's something missing. Went back in the kitchen, chopped up some celery and chucked it in with a couple noggins of ginger - dunno why, but it was there ... went back to my whisky.

Hmmmm, still something missing. Aha, garlic, a whole bulb will do, I can't see to peel it. Oh, while I'm here I'll chuck some scrumped apple slices in that I froze last year. Bugger, they're solid I'll have to whack em to get em loose ... Ooh, a nice big chunk of frozen apple slices ... I think ... could be roast cabbage or chestnuts, I dunno, still can't find my specs.

Back to my whisky. Hmmmm, I'm sure there's still something missing ... oh chuffin Nora ... I only forgot the pork...

Thankfully I managed to remember it before I went to bed so at least I didn't have to get up in the night.

Which reminds me - now I'm finally in bed - the government has just stolen a precious hour off me - my phone went straight from 00.59 to 02.00, a disgusting state of affairs - with that damn British summer time they insist we have ... I won't get it back now until October...

Not Quite British

Last night Mr Grumpy regaled me with tales of his adventures whilst he was in Skegness yesterday. We got to the last bit and he told me about RUNNING - he's nearly 76 - to the bus stop and waving frantically to the bus driver.

Apparently this behaviour was because no one was waiting at the bus stop ... the driver did stop and he was clearly amused.

I was appalled, doesn't he realise how totally un-British this behaviour is? I mean, yes ... if there's only one bus a fortnight and you've got your snow shoes under one arm, an unamused cat under the other, a mosquito net shoved down your vest and a canoe strapped to your back ... plus enough supplies in a dozen shopping bags to get you through those next two weeks. Then by all means ... an apologetic little wave to the bus driver might, just might, be in order.

But we're talking about Skeggy here, with at least one bus every 5 minutes ... and he was carrying nothing more taxing than a pack of new biros for writing his bets.

Which makes me wonder ... 'What nationality is he? because it's definitely not British'.

Several times last year we tootled off to Mablethorpe, I know I've possibly mentioned it to friends what I'm up to ... but I'd hate anyone to miss out on how riveting my life is. But he mentions it THERE what we're doing ... like when we were in a charity shop, I'm browsing the book shelf - for him, I use a kindle - and I can hear him announcing that we're in Mablethorpe because the Skegness Lidl is 'but a pile of rubble' as they're about to rebuild it bigger. It's about this time that I can feel the tops of my ears going red.

Next stop, the pet shop for our badger and bird supplies and the conversation goes ... "We usually go to your shop in Skegness but they're rebuilding Lidl, is it your daughter who works in the pet shop there?" ... by now I'm several aisles away pretending I don't know him ... I do this a lot.

Lidl itself ... I'm shopping, he's chatting. Two aisles away I can hear him ... "Will you be going back to the Skeggy Lidl when it re-opens?". He's obviously cornered a member of staff he recognises as they were sent to different stores. I turn the corner and see him, he's found new victims to tell them 'What we're doing here'.

He sees me coming and announces ... "Here's my wife, I was just telling..." too late they've made their escape.

In the early days I used to think that everyone he was chatting to was someone he actually knew. I'd turn up from whatever shop I'd been in and they'd make a hasty retreat. I took this to mean they liked him and thought I was horrible, so I started to practice smiling ... this was not easy for me, I'm not a smily person ... remember, I am British.

It took me several months of wearing a rictus grin whenever I went out, to realise people just thought I was as big a barmpot as he his. Bless him...

To Haunt or RIP

Had a bit of a revelation whilst on my way to bed somewhat sozzled.

Thinking about what life/death is going to be like when I'm brown bread.

We always say RIP when someone has shrugged off their mortal wossname, but who says that's what we actually want out of life ... er death. I mean, it's a bit boring just lying there all peaceful like.

Methinks I need to consider if it's worth passing on ... kicking the bucket ... whatever, I'm sure I could find something better to do ... I think I'd prefer to do a bit of haunting ... I'll lie here now and practice my tele-thingy skills.

I'll get the cat  - aka Miss Tia Pussykins - to get off me, just by looking at her because I'm hot, hot, HOT ... doesn't she realise I'm having a lady power surge, and my job in life - whilst I'm here - is not to keep her undercarriage warm ... hmmm, that's not working ...

My Asda Voucher

Just spent the last I don't know how long, trying to get the laptop to communicate with the printer to print off an Asda voucher. I have to ask myself "was it worth it?".

The printer happily prints off a page of ... "Oh aren't I clever? out of all the networks and channels available, I'm on your network and this is my address" ... every time I go up and threaten and reset it

I eventually gave in and switched on the computer, but by now I'd reset the repeater and totally forgot how to get into it. Spent five minutes looking for a repeater program before remembering it's a bloody router and is accessed by the browser aka Firefox.

Ten minutes of muttering later and we're on t'interweb, the voucher still won't print, bugger! I go over and threaten the printer again, reset the network there to master router instead of repeater, it smugly prints the aren't I clever page - Mr Grumpy now has a stack of paper to write on the back of - then lo and behold ... chugga chugga, clatter "receiving data ... printing".

Yay ... Off to Asda I go with my £1.38 voucher ... and all this time I've spent arguing with the laptop, printer, computer, mifi, and repeater I'm meant to be working ... so one chuffin expensive voucher. But after all the running up and down stairs, I sure am fit...

Domestic Goddessing

Tuesday

Yippee! Finally found my Christmas spirit ... she's currently domestic goddessing in the kitchen.

Veg has been roasted, the Stilton and celery soup is bubbling away. The Christmas cake with almond paste is baking nicely. The leftover almondy stuff is about to be coated in chocolate ... and there's every chance the gingerbread house is going to be made next.

It'd be nice if this weird personality of mine turned up at the right time just once, she's either too early and is fed up by the main event, or like this year turns up late...

Wednesday

Uho ... got the domestic goddessing bug AGAIN. This time I finished off making the meat and potato pie I started yesterday. Cooked the leeks and Stilton sauce. Froze gallons of Stilton and celery soup from yesterday. Is there time to make sourdough crumpets? ... no, I'd better get on with some work.

I think I need to knock this domestic goddessing on the head. The freezer is totally full, I've made a smoked haddock, prawn, leek, cheese and potato pie for today. I'm finishing off the almond choccies next.

Since being a faster I've been able to - mostly - keep this side of me under control but this last week it's taken over. Any longer and I'm going to re-chunk when I give in and eat more meals.

The only saving grace is most of my culinary experiments taste like shite. Getting my grumpy old man to admit it is half the fun though because he doesn't like to hurt my feelings ... the way I do it is to say ... "Mmmmm, this is interesting, we'll have it again soon shall we??" ... and watch him squirm ... bless Oh, and I mowed his hair today too ... now back to work ... I'm good...

Still Maintaining

Intermittent fasting is still working for me after losing 63lbs two years ago - give or take a couple of Christmas lbs - I just wish I'd remember that I was a faster when I went shopping. For some reason my brain gets switched off and I continue to shop like someone who eats 3-4 meals a day and the freezer is starting to groan

Christmas food shopping is insane. I never did get around to making the gingerbread house I bought in kit form and it sits in the cupboard along with the two boxes of shortbread, Christmas cake and a stollen. The six boxes of chocolates Mr Grumpy bought me as presents should last us until Easter because we've not started them yet. We're still only on the roof of my delicious chocolate house.

Oh yes, the domestic goddessing ... we currently have about 30 jars of homemade jam/marmalade/chutney that will never get eaten. This is because by the time I have toast - the only way I've ever liked sweet stuff on bread - I end up wanting crunchy peanut butter instead. And along with the stash of regular alcohol - that a professional bar wouldn't be ashamed of - There's also a bottle of unopened sloe gin, plum vodka and Christmas pudding vodka. And there's about 20 mini muffins in the freezer I made using the fruit from the pudding vodka ... sigh.

As an intermittent faster I can eat whatever I like, and even though I spend time thinking ... "yum, I'll have pizza and ice cream tomorrow" - just because I can - I invariably have something else. These days I always eat what I want because the body knows what it NEEDS nutritionally

I've not always taken notice of it, during last summer my brain thought it knew better and went all stupid. The body rebelled, got bolshy, let me get shingles by way of 'I told you so', told the brain to back off and get on with doing proper brain stuff and leave the day to day running of things to experienced ... er, bits ...  and since then we've all got along just fine. 

After yesterday's once weekly naughty day - of a Wetherspoons lunch and toasted slice of panettone for tea - my body wants fruit and home made nutty Muesli, it won't get it until around 7.00pm. Until then it'll make do with tea, coffee, bouillon and squash.

Here endeth today's 'dieting' lesson. I may even get up and have a stroll on the elliptical doodah, but not before I've finished my cuppa. 

Just one small whinge. I'd written all this out once - much better than this crap - went to save it to the clipboard for my blog and the chuffin page refreshed losing the lot. My phone nearly went through the window and my bloody tea has

gone cold...

.....

1. Me and Alternate Day Fasting
2. Me and Alternate Day Fasting ... Three Weeks On
3. Five Weeks of Alternate Day Fasting
4. Eight Weeks of Alternate Day Fasting
5. Ten Weeks of Alternate Day Fasting
6. Alternate Day Fasting Three Months On
7. Alternate Day Fasting in Winter
8. Alternate Day Fasting Over Christmas
9. Me and Zumba
10. Saying Goodbye To My Curves 
11. Eight Months Of Alternate Day Fasting And Me
12. Growing Up 
13. A Year Of Alternate Day Fasting 
14. 60 Pounds Of Blubber - Vanished
15. The Perils of Alternate Day Fasting 
16. Mr Grumpy Is Losing It
17. Mr Grumpy Has Lost It
18. Fasting For Maintenance
19. Tweaking Maintenance
20. Weight Gain 
21. Still Maintaining
22. Four Years Of Intermittent Fasting

  .....

• ADF Facebook Group ... come and join us :)

Deaf Little Miss Tia Pussykins

Not sure whether to be relieved that I no longer think Miss Tia Pussykins is senile, or ashamed that I didn't spot sooner that she was deaf.

It wasn't until last week that all the signs of deafness finally got through to me ... although cats are notoriously clever at hiding disabilities.

I'd accused her of being ignorant when she didn't look up when I spoke to her. I knew it made her jump when I stroked her if she was asleep ... and she sleeps very deeply in her quiet little world.

Being in the caravan has also hidden her deafness because everything shakes, rattles and rolls with the smallest movement ... unless it's me moving, as I'm light footed.

Fast aeroplanes still faze her - we vibrate - but my Dyson doesn't bother her until I'm cleaning right up to where she is.

No wonder she cries - loudly - in the night when she doesn't know where we are. As soon as I go in to fetch her she greets me with a happy little meow ... although I think she's lost her 'trill', I've not heard that for a while ... she still purrs a lot though.

We'll have to see how she fares at home where the floors downstairs are concrete. She does mostly live upstairs though.

In herself she's quite well, loves her treats and hasn't lost any weight. Not at all bony and she still bounces around like a kitten at times.

She doesn't go out much now, this is a relief as the outside world is full of danger to a deaf cat ... particularly one that previously had very good hearing.

It also explains why she's as clingy as she is, she rarely leaves my side now and is always pleased when my grumpy old man comes back in. She likes to sit between us ...  bless her little cotton socks.

We still talk to her as if she could hear us, I'm sure she'd panic more if she didn't see our lips move ... she may even be able to lip-read up to a point.

We do a lot of slow blinking at one another now to say "I love you" ... but it doesn't stop me saying it to her out loud.

Now, if only she'd wear an hearing aid ... and don't think I haven't tried her with my Mr Grumpy's when he went to bed one night...

My Disease And I

For the first time since 1983 I had to give in and visit a prescription hander outer. That has soooo spoilt my record, but hey! ... I didn't need any smarties  ... aka antibiotics.
Nope, my disease required anti-virals - Acyclovir - in the hope it would prevent complications and stop it in its tracks ... even a teeny weeny bit.

My rash was impressive and at the first sign I thought I'd been bit by some evil munchy flying ba**ard ... I said as much in the big consultation room in the sky - Facebook - hmmm, where I posted a photo of my 'bites' on the Wednesday afternoon.

I was diagnosed immediately with shingles even though I argued that it was impossible as I was so healthy ... completely forgetting I'd had a headache for two days and just didn't feel like getting up off my arris to go out and spend some money. As this is my number one hobby I should have suspected summat was amiss but I just put it down to wimmins 'ormones.

"Go to the docs" ... "no I'm fine" ... "you'll be sorry" ... "I'm busy" ... "she won't go to the quacks unless she's taken unconscious in a wheelbarrow" ... "Sigh, I'll go Monday if I'm spotty or worse, I feel fine" ... "sigh, what's wrong with now?" ... "I'm ironing" ... and so it went on.

A sister - the bossy one - text me with making appointment instructions. By now even I suspected shingles because when I'd finished ironing I asked Doctor Google what shingles looked like ... ooer missus. I text back to say I'd make an appointment at my docs and I actually meant it ... not that I even knew who he was as two had started and retired without me seeing them.

We were going home the following day - Thursday - as I was meeting Facebook friends for a Discworld get together - at Wollaton Hall on Saturday, 11th July.

Thursday morning came, I was in agony, luckily Mr Grumpy had previously picked a leaflet up for Skegness Urgent Care Centre. I made my mind up, I was going, I was showered and dressed in a flash. I knew I'd have more chance of receiving drugs in time there than wait until we got home to see my own doc ... in the unlikely event I'd even get an appointment.

Yes, classic Shingles, I was given a prescription and instructions to tell me that Morrisons was the nearest drug dispensary ... this proved expensive as we went shopping as we whiled away the half hour I'd got to wait ... clearly this is a cunning ploy as half an hour doesn't really give you anywhere else to go.

We went home later that day as planned, time passed in a painful blur. We didn't go to Wollaton and went back to the tin hut that day - Saturday - instead, I needed to get back where I could relax without Chavsda and Langley Mill winding me up.

Many weeks have passed, I gained 6lbs through idleness - I didn't do much as I couldn't wear a bra so no jogging/running/gasping/limping - the rash cleared up fairly quickly leaving minimal scarring, but the pain lingered and lingered. To me it was a constant ache then burning with lots of stabbing. I frequently thought ...  "am I having a heart attack this time?". There is no feeling in the affected nerve, it's completely numb ... until it feels like being ultra-itchy or painful.

I started noticing something odd, if I was totally preoccupied with something else I felt no pain, once I thought about it ... OUCH!

I'd read up on Post-herpetic neuralgia and fully expected to develop it. Now I know that they say the most likely people to go and develop these complications are lonely hypochondriacs, and that's because they're going to think about nothing else. I'm not discounting them as saddos with imagined pain - don't forget I'm suffering here - but I do think there's truth in this. If I wake up and get on with stuff before I shower - no pain - but if I think "I wonder if my shingles will hurt today?" then instantly ... ouch...

It Doesn't Matter

A week ago we had a major crisis. Mr Grumpy came back from the local bookies and he'd lost a winning bet he'd had at another branch in Mablethorpe the day before.

He went through all his slips on the table, checked his pockets ... "but it doesn't matter" ... he then started going through the kitchen bin, teabags flarted one way, packaging from my parcel received that morning another, and a mountain of dust hoiked on the floor - I'd literally only just emptied the Dyson two minutes before he came in ... "but it doesn't matter".

I went through the bets he'd chucked for the cat to play with ...  "ne'er mind  ... it's a mystery to me ... but it doesn't matter" ... and I'm about to get my rubber gloves on for this state of emergency to go deeper in the bin.

I think for a minute ... "how much is this bet worth?"  ... I ask him

"£1.10 ... but it doesn't matter, if I've lost it, I can write it out again as they've got the original"

ONE chuffin POUND 10 bluddy P ... and he's got the caravan upside down ... and I've had to clean the kitchen again.

A little later - after a nice sunbathing session - he told me he'd had another bin bag out and been through the rubbish one piece at a time. And we we're "still baffled".

In those five minutes - it was coffee time so I was a captive audience - I relived every step he'd taken to Don Noble's bookies, where it should have been safely inside one of that days bets, and it wasn't ... but it doesn't matter ...

Next time I'll ask first and have my purse handy to reimburse him... bless him ... but it doesn't matter...

 .....

A week later and we're at Mablethorpe, off he went to the bookies and went through all the rigmarole of telling the poor buggers who work there the sad story of the missing bet. They checked the time he'd placed it, found it and printed another copy for him to sign to say he'd received his winnings, and it was finally worth £1.05. He'd barely slept a whole week for £1.05! ... but it doesn't matter ...