To the uninitiated, it probably appears that my life is one long escapade of mishap and disaster – and there are indeed times when it really does feel like that. However ocassionally, whole weeks go by where no-one is eletrocuted, nothing catches fire, and defeat is not snatched from the jaws of victory, metaphorically, or otherwise.
Sometimes I just have no “dogs life” to complain about…. how unfair is that?
The Really Tall Steps have now been officially retired as “too perilous even for me” – at least until their re-launch as “the stairs to the mezanine floor” in the garage – which currently exists only in my imagination. Given the pressing need for elevation in my 13′ high ceiling rooms, to reach light fittings, errant curtain rails and such, they have been replaced (new toy) by the dual purpose, folding and extending, aluminium step/ladders, These seem pretty sound, but are going to require a snappier stage name to be any kind of regular guest – (possibly the “Really Heavy Steps”).
I did phone up the hospital this week to check on the progress of my second eye op (Waiting for the death ray), as I am approaching the end of the 12 week window promised on the official letter. That was amusing in a sad kind of way, as the poor receptionist who took my call struggled (and failed) to transfer me to anyone else to give me the bad news.
My special death ray installing surgeon has gone on holiday, location unknown, return time (what with Brexit and all) uncertain. Apparently this was not important enough information to contact me about!
The good news is, that, because I have the letter guaranteeing me an appointment within 12 weeks, if that doesn’t happen, I move up to the highest priority… except, with my half done, lens out, but no lens in, eye, I am in fact already on the highest priority. Hmmmm.
Perhaps there is still a bit of dog in the old life.
Next week. Bound to have be some catastrophe by then.
Dalmallyfest the Asylum 