This Friday’s edition coming to you from the wonderful Isle of Wight, my instant-holiday-in-a-can – the most magical place a mere 23 minute boat journey away (how can it be anything but a proper holiday when you have to travel over the sea to get to it?).
There’s something very relaxing about being at home-away-from-home. I packed up a weekend bag and my laptop (heavy, heavy, heavy, but I’m not strong enough to leave it behind) and set out for the ferry. Five minutes down the road and I realised that I’d vastly misjudged the time, the heaviness of the bags, and the distance which needed to be covered, and that I was going to miss my boat.
Sometimes this would get me down, but today the sun was shining, I was in a t-shirt, the sky had lots of tiny, puffly white clouds across it, and I was happy to walk, knowing that my exercise for the day had been accomplished.
Then, unexpectedly, at a crossroads about halfway there, my Mum drove past, screeched to a halt at the side of the road and waited for me to
dodge death and traffic cross safely and jump in. Perfect timing, as the bag really *was* starting to feel rather heavy!
And so I got the boat. Not the one I intended – I still missed that one. But the next one was fine, and I arrived safe and sound (wishing that the captain would’ve been a LITTLE more daring with his driving, because speeding in boats is fun). And here I shall stay until Saturday, when I return to get inked (I hope!)
I’ve also talked about the inking business with Dad. He’s going to hate it whatever I get. He’s utterly baffled as to why I’d want to mutilate myself. And has made it inescapably clear that he thinks I’ll look silly when I’m 90. So I’m clear to go ahead, with very little snark, and as close as I’m ever going to get to his blessing.
So that stinks. And put a SERIOUS blip in my mood and ability to function at the beginning of the week (thanks Lifeboats – once again, an effective rescue). Because, well, crap! They could’ve told us SO LONG AGO that we were never going to have children naturally. It would have spared the best part of a year of a monthly cycle of wavering hopes and crushing disappointment. It would have taken the pressure off and allowed us time to breathe, to absorb, and to prepare for the next step – our one shot at fertility treatment.
In their infinite dunderheaded, medicentric unthinkingness, they focussed entirely on the medical, leaving the emotional to fend for itself. Which nearly did for us.
So now, three weeks ahead of a schedule which was as empty and pointless as any parody known to man, we are at the end.
One shot at treatment.
It’s nearly 9pm and it feels like midnight. I’ve had two naps in front of the telly so far (we’ve been watching Stephen Fry in America – it’s fascinating) and a lovely dinner of Things I Don’t Get To Eat At Home (Grandma’s burgers (which, allegedly, should really be called ‘beef patties’, after the Victorian version of the same recipe), mashed potato (done with butter, salt, pepper, and a splash of milk, with the skins still on the potatoes at the time of mashing – unutterably delicious and strictly off the menu at home (Husby’s Mashed Potato Childhood Trauma still haunts him (which is what happens when you have a brother with a keen sense of wit, a bowlful of vanilla ice-cream and a scoop of mashed potato…))) and canned marrowfat peas (with aaaaaaaaaaaall the E-numbers (they came out blue, before cooking), all doused with Proper Gravy – bliss).
Perhaps it’s all the late nights I’ve been indulging in on this holiday. But I’m whacked! Still. Totally, completely worth it, though, and I’ve had some marvellous chats.
Talking of Stephen Fry, America (land of the absolutely nuts), and the crazy things they pass off as food (Spray cheese. In a can. For real!), I’ve come across an entirely new (I think – I’ll check Google later) and wonderfully marketable product.
Because lets face it, there are times when it’s just too inconvenient to stand over a stove, stirring, or to pour boiling water onto granules. And gravy’s not very transportable at the best of times!
This will TRANSFORM gravy use, I’m quite certain. A good shake and a quick spritz, and your dinner will be immediately betterified.
Look for it on shelves soon.
I learned this morning that Facebook is going to change the algorithms for its pages. Again. And as of soon, text-based updates will NOT enjoy the (already truncated) reach they currently do. Allegedly, user feedback suggests that images are the way forward, and that they will reach more of the pool of people who’ve ‘liked’ the page.
Well I tested it. I made an image. I posted said image as an update from the Considerings Facebook Page. And 12 people saw it. Which Facebook then tagged as the ‘update which has done better than 95% of other updates on that page (many of which have 30+ people having seen them (which is still crap, considering 320 people have ‘liked’ it so far))).
I can only conclude that not only are the Facebook techies stupid; they’re also stupid at mathematics.
Come back on Saturday or Sunday and link up your list of Ten Things which have made you Thankful this week. Join our community of wonderful, determined, rejoicing, enthused people, who collect from around the globe to celebrate the Good in one anothers’ lives.