Upsizing...

Up until six months or so ago, Reet and I were considering moving house. We are both having trouble with the stairs these days so we were considering downsizing to a bungalow. But then we saw an advert in the local paper about a residential park home. These are like posh caravan sites and had we gone ahead with the move we could have acquired one, fully furnished  and decorated to our own stipulations, for around one hundred and fifty grand. We could have sold our house, bought the park home and had a fair few thousand left to play with. We were very tempted and spent two years checking out park sites all over the south east. 

In the end though, we worked through the initial excitement and reconsidered all our options with clear heads. The park home option, although tempting, was not without its faults. We were limited to where we could live. There are plenty of sites across the country but many are already established with vacancies arising very rarely. New sites are being developed all the time and we could have bought a home and chosen the plot on any one of a dozen new sites, so all wasn't lost. But still there was something holding us back. 

As it stands we own our house and have no mortgage to pay, but if we bought a park home we would have to pay ground rent which would probably be around a thousand pounds per year - minimum. And it's for sure, only going to go up in the future. Even so, that might still have been acceptable but what finally decided things for us wasn't the money at all. It was Reet's cancer. Had we moved we would have had to change hospitals,  consultants and even our G.P.  With all the treatments she is under and all the worry and stress that goes with the illness she didn't want to go through all that as well. And to be honest, I don't blame her.

So we decided to stay here and have an extension built. We're lucky enough to have a lot of space to the side of our house and we are going to have a twelve foot by twelve foot extension which will be a downstairs bathroom and a utility room. The plan is to come downstairs in the morning and not have to go up the stairs again till bedtime.

We're under no illusions. We know this is going to be expensive. We know it will take time and we know it will be quite stressful. What we didn't know however, was that we'd end up paying the best part of two grand before we could get a quote! Seriously, we've paid an architect to measure up and submit plans to the council and we've paid almost two hundred quid to the council for I don't know what! Once we get the go ahead we can then submit the plans to some builders and get some quotes in. We were hoping to get the work done before Winter set in but since we're still waiting for the council to okay it we're not so sure.

Time will tell, I guess. In the meantime though, it's just crossed my mind that we started out looking to downsize and have ended up extending the property we have. Funny how things go ennit?

B. x

Honey.

Cute, or what?

 I introduced myself and the missus but hardly mentioned the most important member of the family: Honey.

 Honey is a Golden Labrador who entered our lives in around 2009. 

Wifey had been made redundant a few years earlier and didn't look to be getting a job any time soon. Despite being a postman, I was in need of some exercise. Because of my crappy knees I had decided to sign for an indoor job for my last few years of work so I wasn't doing so much walking. Consequently, I put on a few pounds and needed to lose it. Playing badminton, which was one of my great passions, was no longer an option, and neither was jogging, a hobby I took up and enjoyed for a while. So I suggested that since we would, in all probability, not be able to holiday abroad again, that maybe now was the time to get that dog we had spoken about on occasion. We were still undecided some months later when a lady I worked with asked if we were still interested in taking on a pet. It turned out her sister had just gone through a divorce and would have to go back to work to make ends meet. This meant that her dog, Honey, would be left alone for most of he day, which, she felt, wasn't right.

We went along to meet Honey and were instantly taken with her. She seemed to like us too which was good but I've since learned that she greets everybody with that same tail wagging enthusiasm which, I suspect, is designed solely to endear her to anybody who may be carrying treats.

So anyway, that was how we came to adopt Honey. And I can't believe how much she has transformed our lives. Everything we do now has to revolve around her. If we go out for the day we have to decide whether to leave her alone and come home early or take her with us. If she comes with us then we need to take food, bowls, a blanket, a toy or two and, of course, poo bags. (Trust me, after being a postman for nearly forty years I have trodden in more than my fair share of dog shit and the last thing I want is to add to the problem!) I used to walk her twice a day when I was working but now we go out three times most days. She loves it. I'm not quite as keen, especially in the bad weather but at least I'm getting some exercise.

We estimate that Honey was eighteen months old when she came to us in 2009 so that makes her around eight years old as I write. She still has her puppyish moments but her age is taking it's toll just a little. If I take her to the local park I can let her off the leash to have a run. We go twice round the park with a water stop on the way and, although she'd love to go again, she is knackered. Walking home is a slow affair compared to the dragging on the way there. And once she's settled down at home, getting up again is a struggle and she limps around the house for the next couple of days. Still, it's great to see her off leash and chasing squirrels so I while she's able I'm not going to deny her the pleasure.

I've never had a dog before and although I've discovered that Honey is an attention seeking, crafty, non-stop eating machine, she is also full of love and gives so much in return for just a little bit of fuss that it is impossible not to love her back. I never realised what a softie I was until Honey came along. (A pushover, as Reet prefers to call it, which is probably more correct.) We had Honey spayed a few months after she came to us and I ended up sleeping all night on the floor with her as she moaned in pain. 

Luckily, she was house trained when we got her. She doesn't get on the furniture and lets us know when she needs to go out for a pee etc. That's probably a good thing as I discovered I didn't have the patience to train her myself. Even now, after all this time, she still pulls when on the leash. She's not as bad as she used to be but she still has it within her to take me by surprise and drag me off to the side if we pass a particularly sweet smelling lamp post. And if she digs her heels in it's a tough job to pull her away. Even now, I'm totally amazed at her strength when she sets her mind on things.

Although her name is Honey, she answers to many others. I have a habit of calling her all kinds of daft names, more to annoy Rita than anything, but Honey always seems to know when I'm talking to her no matter what I call her. Aliases she goes by include: Mooshy-Moo; Fido; Dopety Dawg; Killer and Muttley. She would eat us out of house and home if we let her. She is constantly hungry and when she watches us eating she produces drool like a fountain. She thinks everybody is a friend and passers by have the choice of being licked into submission or beaten to death by her tail. And she is so so nosey! If the postman gives me a parcel she is all over it, sniffing it like mad and generally acting like a three year old at Christmas.

Before I go to bed at night I treat her to a piece of carrot and a belly rub and in return she licks any bare flesh I put her way. I guess it's a pack thing. And when I finally go to bed she follows me upstairs and sleeps on the landing.

So that's Honey. Hope you enjoyed meeting her.

B. x

Early morning waffle

Here we are with post number two. Ha! And they said it wouldn't last!

I'm still undecided as to whether or not to keep this journal open to the public. On the one hand I've always felt a diary should be kept private for my own deep dark thoughts. But another part of me wonders why I would write something that only I would read.  That seems a bit pointless to me.

Going public means writing for an audience and that, surely, has to alter my writing style. My last journal was public and I found myself writing almost to entertain my followers. That said, I thoroughly enjoyed doing so and, although I kept things mostly light hearted, I did manage to include some serious posts a well.

I guess, ultimately, it will all depend on whether I want to bare my soul to strangers or not. I think I'll leave things as they are for now and see how it goes. I can always close the doors and batten down the hatches at a later date if need be. It's a shame there isn't a way to do both - keeping some posts public and some private. Or maybe there is these days. I've been away from blogging for a few years so who knows what's changed. Once I'm settled in I'll start dabbling around a bit, maybe add a photo or two or change the layout a smidge. At the moment though I'll keep it all simple and just write.

I'm babbling already and I'm only on my second post. Mind you, it's 2.45 in  the morning and I've just woken up so it's no wonder my mind is wandering. The missus is faffing about in the kitchen doing Gawd knows what at this hour. She often manages to stay up all night but then, she sleeps a lot during the day. Not solely because of the chemo pills she is on. She has always had the ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat and the cancer meds have just made it worse.

Mind you, it suits me fine that she sleeps most of the day. It leaves me to my own devices. The only downside to it is that she has taken to making up a bed on the sofa so when I get up in the morning I have to be quiet and keep the curtains closed, That's okay till around 8 o'clock but by then I want to let some light in and maybe open a window or two. This time of year, it isn't so bad as the weather has been fairly warm in the early hours so I've been sitting in the garden and reading. It's a nice way to start the day and something I wouldn't be able to do if I wasn't retired.

My last official day of work was Christmas eve, 2016, but in actuality, I was off work at the time, waiting for the ill health retirement that eventually came. Still, it made for an unusually quiet Christmas for me. Believe me, after thirty eight years with Royal Mail I was happy to sit out the Christmas mayhem for a change.

I did have one other Christmas away from Royal Mail. That was in 1997, one year after my mum had died. Reet and I decided Christmas wasn't going to be the same without her so I called in sick and we went to Austria where we enjoyed a fantastic traditional Christmas. We went for a sleigh ride on Christmas morning and when we returned to the hotel for dinner we ate our meal to the accompaniment a beautiful Austrian choir singing all the traditional hymns and carols. I'm not a particularly religious man  but I had hoped for a traditional Christmas and we got just that. One of the most memorable times of my life.

And on that nostalgic note I'll bid you goodnight, or good morning in this case.

B. x

Introducing... Me!

 Hello world.

I thought I'd start with a potted picture of myself and maybe explain what can be found within, should you dare to enter:

My name is Barry. At the time of writing (September 2017) I am 62 years old (Zoiks! Say it quick and it's not such a shock). I live in Romford, Essex, in the UK. I'm married, to Rita, with no kids, through choice. (about the only thing we ever agreed on).

We do have a dog. A Golden Labrador who goes by many names, but mainly, Honey.

My missus was made redundant from work some ten years ago and hasn't worked since. She is also 62 years old. I worked for nearly forty years for Royal Mail and recently took ill health retirement.

 So now we are both at home all the time and trying not to drive each other mad. We both have plenty of illnesses between us and drain the NHS constantly with repeat prescriptions. I won't bore you with all the details but I should mention that Rita has cancer. The medical term is Myloma, a cancer that affects the blood. At the moment, treatment is keeping things at bay and although the cancer isn't curable its at least being kept under control. What the future holds is anybody's guess.

Despite all my ailments, most of which come with age, I manage to live a reasonably active life. My main gripe is the constant pain in my knees. Even the right one which is a replacement, made of plastic and titanium or some such. I'm on painkillers that work occasionally but, in truth, I think its a case of grinning and bearing it. So, that's what I do, mostly.

I have three brothers and a sister, of which I am the baby. We are spread around the country a little but we all get along fine. Rita is also the baby of her family She has two brothers and a sister, although one of her brothers died a few years ago - bloody cancer again! Both mums and dads have shuffled off this mortal coil and, we can only hope, moved on to better things. Reet's sister (Pat) lives close by and is part of our life, but her remaining brother lives in Telford and barely keeps in touch.

That's pretty much it for a brief intro. I'm sure you'll discover more as I blather my way through these pages. I have written a journal before, some years ago. It started out being hosted by AOL and was eventually taken over by Blogger. It was also called Waffle and Whinge and ran for a few enjoyable years until my interest waned. I think that was around the time Facebook reared its ugly head and many bloggers were sliding away. Personally, I can't stand Facebook and although I do have an account with them I very rarely frequent the site. I can't be doing with just writing a sentence or two each day. When I write I like to go for it, as may well become clear in these pages. This does mean that I prattle on about nothing at times but amongst all the jibber jabber I hope to include stories of my life. I've had a good life with lots of fun, a product of a happy family I guess. Of course, it wasn't all rosy but I do tend to wear my mums rose tinted specs on occasion. So, although I might go off alarming about some stuff, the majority of these offerings are going to be upbeat and a little amusing - I hope.

B. x