I cannot stand it anymore, I hate this plaster Nige, it is too tight.......cry cry cry....I want it off.
I took two Ibrofen with my tea and started to calm myself down and write this post.
I have been reminiscing and planning quite a lot. Sitting with poor leg raised on cushions on the sofa and not being in the mood to read either, there is not much else to do once everyone has left the house.
I have made mental lists for, the Fair, organising the pending sale of the cottage and how I will start the packing of everything with each coming visit. Lists for Christmas and for things that I want to try and do next year, camping etc.
Friday we exchanged contracts on the cottage completion is set for the 10th November 2008.Boo hoo, goodbye to my lovely cottage is now for real. I have had enough of trying to run two homes. It is bad enough having to deal with all the problems that one house brings. As I will not be much help with the packing, I will just have to direct the whole procedure. -Armchair Commando style.
I missed my First Birthday for my Blog, so I haved wished myself a belated happy birthday.
It does not seem like a whole year of blogging has passed. But what joy it has brought me.
New friends from far and wide. Meeting up with many of you at the coming Vintage & Handmade Fair in November will be exciting, a bit scary too....spirits will be high.Guy is now 10 months old. My absolutely gorgeous, naughty little Lakeland Terrier which I raised by hand from one day old. He is very special, we have a close bond. He still wants to comfort suck his blanket, like a baby and yet he thinks he is so tough. Growling and barking at anything that dares to enter our home or garden. He sits on the windowsill of my study, keeping guard.
Last night I gave his coat a little trim with scissors, most of his black puppy fur has now gone, replaced by silver grey and tan fur. He looks such grown up little boy with his new hair cut. Bless him. How did we managed to get from this .....tiny helpless little bundle of soft black cuteness to this cheeky little boy.
Lots of care and devotion and ooddles of love.
I never posted the most frightening thing that happened when Guy was just about two weeks old. Late one wintry and very windy evening while I was at the cottage with my parents and Guy. I was giving him his two hourly feed with puppy formula milk.
Guy started to gag on something. This carried on for a while until concern that he could not catch his breath made me try and do something.
I tried to clear his airway, turned him upside down and gently patted his back. Nothing worked. Panic ran through me like little volts of electricity.....I was shaking, I could not find the local Veterinary phone number in my phone book. I ran out of the cottage not telling my parents why.
I knocked on the doors of two neighbour's but no one answered. Luckily for me the Veterinary Surgery is just a 5 minute walk from my cottage, this was a blessing. I ran in my slippers down the muddy lane to the surgery. Thank God for mobile phones. Frantically I dialled the emergency number that was displayed on the window. A woman answered. I explained the situation.
A vet will call you back within 20 minutes she said.
I screamed down the phone, NO he will be dead by then, he cannot breath.
I paced the car park begging God, please do not let him die.
The tears were rolling down my face. My baby, please, please do not die.
I Looked at his tongue, it was becoming more purple in colour.
Gently I covered his tiny nose and mouth with my mouth and breathed very softly into him.
I continued to do this in the hope that I was able to keep him alive until the vet arrived.
Cars appeared, but drove on passed. It seemed like forever.
I could see a 4X4 coming up the lane, it drove into the car park.
Relief my pain eased just a little. The vet ran towards me, took little Guy from me and said follow me. We went into the surgery, I was told to sit and wait. the vet went off to another room. I could not sit. I paced the waiting room, crying and praying. After what felt like an hour but was probably only half an hour, Mr Broadbent the vet, came back into the waiting room. I let out a cry, is he OK?
He is stable, he can now breath, I have aspirated some milk from his lungs. Guy has had some oxygen and anti-biotics. I have checked him as far as possible for a cleft palet. Everything seems ok......but...unfortunately these little puppies seem to just die overnight, it may be the chock of what has happened to him. You must keep him upright all night. I will give you a smaller teat and feeding bottle. Feed him every two hours. But tonight let him sleep a while, feed him in a few hours. Come back here at 8.45am and I will see him before surgery starts.
He asked, where do you live?
He must have noticed that I did not have a car in the car park.
Mr Broadbent drove me back to the cottage.
When I got inside, my parents were so worried they had no idea where I had gone to!
I slept that night, sitting up in bed with Guy on my lap. I dozed in and out of sleep, checking him regularly.
In the morning we went back to the vet and got a big well done. The vet did say that he did not hold out much hope of Guy surviving the night. But the fact that he did must mean that he is a very strong puppy.
I love this little boy. We have shared am experience that will be with me forever.The evenings have definitely got colder, so the first fire was lit.
The first fire..........
The first fire..........
Yippee, a cosiness that can only come from a real open fire fills my sitting room.
Lamplight and candles are everywhere and a feeling of being safe and sound comes over me.
I must remember to order logs and coal. A pile of well seasoned logs is comforting to me. Remembering how my Mum would always have things stockpiled. Primus and candles at the ready, just in case there was a power cut. And again just in case there should be a shortage of something like soap, food or toilet rolls, heaven forbid....a secret stash was made in one of the bedroom cupboards.As I type this, I am sure the leg plaster is shrinking, I have another three weeks of this horrible Purple plaster, why did I pick Purple? I do not like purple at all. I wanted pink. But they would not let me have pink, said it had all gone. I could see two box's on the shelf marked pink...maybe they were empty.
I cannot bare to wear anything tight. Shoes, jeans, shirts, jumpers or coats. I get all stuffy and want to rip things off. I told Katie that I thought the tight waistband around baby Judes cordroys was uncomfortable for him.
It is no wonder the little man does not want to sit up. If we try, he grunts a gets a bright red face. So as soon as he visits Nana off come the cords. The smile on his face once free of his trousers tells it all. We do not do Tight! happily......
Mr N. is downstairs cooking breakfast. Eggs, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms and a big mug of hot tea. My tummy rumbles when it realises food is on its way. But no carbs, carbs for the next three weeks are OUT!!!
Otherwise they will not be able to fit me through the door of Rangeworthy Village Hall and I do not want to be transported about on a Low Loader! Spending most of my time just sitting or sleeping is bad for me. I try to walk about on thevcrutches, but it is hurting my hands and wrists. The only good thing is my upper arms are firming up.
Breakfast in bed is now served. I will be back soon. I hope you all enjoy a nice cosy Sunday.
I am going to my cousin Janices for Sunday Roast.
Be good. Or if you are going to be bad.....enjoy every moment!