Tales of Derring-do

First I'd like to here note: I like spiders - in theory. In reality, I'm phobic. Keep in mind every time I type s-p-i-d-e-r on my phone, the s-p-i-d-e-r emoji comes up on my screen and far too close to my face and fingers. This I do not like.

Yesterday I spied a spider at the top of our lounge curtains. Spouse was at work so I mustered the necessary courage, got the fly swat and approached with caution. 

I take a swing. I'm uncertain if I hit it, but I watch horrified as it arcs through the air towards me. Spinning to run I collect a foot against the sofa leg and tangle my legs in each other. 

Faliling wildly I have time to wonder what I must look like to potential witnesses and am grateful when I don't fall flat on my face. I check - there are no onlookers to my moment of gracelessness and terror, so I face my priorities: I have to ensure the spider is 1) not on me 2) really, truly, definitely, one-hundred percent not on me and 3) dead, or near enough to. 

I spot it on the floor and though pretty certain of its death I bravely return and swat at the spider-corpse twice more for good measure. I then hobble to the sofa to inspect my injuries. 

But from the sofa I can still see the spider-corpse and this is disturbing me. As quickly as I can hobble I dispose of the spider-corpse. Compost or landfill? Definitely not recycling. I put the spider-corpse in the compost bin although immediately I second guess my decision. Landfill seems more secure, more final. But it's too late to change my mind now - I am definitely not digging the spider-corpse out of the compost bin.

Back on the sofa I discover I have twisted a knee and an ankle. 

Being me, I quickly see the hilarity in this moment. What doesn't kill me...actually, pause that thought, it's complete bollocks. It's still funny though. I put ice on knee and ankle and elevate them. When Spouse returns I regale him with my heroic tale.

And then I decide to go for a lie down. Suddenly my foot and ankle will not cooperate. My ankle is having none of it. At this point Spouse insists I stop laughing immediately and that we go to the doctor. I don't stop laughing. We don't go to the doctor.

As the evening progressed Spouse starts to realise the benefits of me being stuck in bed/on the sofa for the next few days.  I can't get into any trouble on my own. I need an accomplice. And since he's the only one about, there will be no trouble making for the immediate future.

If I do have to go to a doctor I'm daring myself to say: "you should've seen the other guy". But for now, I limp off into the sunset.

Bitter & twisted

Last night I commented to my beloved that I was bitter & twisted.

"Like a chocolate pretzel!" he said.

Yeah, just like a chocolate pretzel.

The Cooper Diaries

It was a sunny day this morning & I wanted to go outside so I miaowed until mummy got dressed & got my lead. When we went out the door mummy smelled "Spring" & went to look at some jonquils in the lower garden. I went to go down the steps too but mummy said I wasn't allowed so instead I ate some grass.

I ate a lot of grass & then I rolled on the concrete in the sunshine & then I sicked up the grass. Yuck. Then I walked along the side of the house - here is a picture of me walking along the side of the house.

When I got to the front of the house a Big Bird flew over & landed in the tree lucerne. I definitely thought about stalking it but it was pretty big & I got distracted.

I was going to eat more grass but mummy said "no more grass". Then mummy noticed there were fresh sheep turds on the grass, but not until after she stepped in one. Then we had to go back inside so that mummy could clean the sheep poo off her slipper.

Zombies

Zombies are real and here's the lowdown: I've just realised what they actually are and I'm going to share it with you right now.

Your average zombie is "undead". It lurches toward you at night time, calling "brains, braaains", and leering.

My theory is this: Zombies are just the chronically ill ("undead" definitely means "alive", but suggests an impairment of some sort) looking for someone with "brains" to help cure their condition, and that they need walking sticks (remember the lurching - it's actually a mobility issue). The leering I'm not sure about. Could be myopia...just a guess.

Zombies are the people suffering chronic illnessness who doctors are so far unable to help - that's why their call is "brains, braaains!". It's not that they want to eat brains (that's just something they put in the movies to scare small children & stupid people). They're just looking for people with good brains to get together & figure out what is wrong with them. Or better yet, how to make it right.

In my case for example - I have a chronic pain syndrome. Now any kiddie can tell you that something has to happen before you get pain. Like getting stung by a bee (not a bumblebee, their sting is surprisingly not painful), or stuck with a pin.

Alright, so I understand neuroplasticity - doesn't everyone? - so I get the pain signals are just going around in an endless loop because that's what my neurons have learned to do. I know, it's my fault for creating super pain generating neurons by training them over years, decades even.

Nonetheless where are the brains that are going to help fix this problem I've created?

So today I'm outing myself. I'm a zombie. And zombies are all around you. For every illness that has no cure - every sufferer is a zombie. "Brains, Braaaains!"

Now I'm not saying that if you do see one of the undead lurching toward you gruesomely, leering & calling "brains!" that you shouldn't pick up your bag & move calmly toward your nearest exit, but do just check before you go that it's not just some poor soul looking for an awesome doctor. After all, we're all "undead". I mean, that's just "alive", right?

The Sound of Music

Not the musical, my house.

Yes, I've been absent 6 months. I'll cover that later. But for now, I just have to share...

My Dad loaned me his precious acoustic guitar (he got a new model) & I have been having a glorious time with it thanks to www.justinguitar.com where I'm learning to play. I love this guy, he's brilliant - a great teacher.

So I've been learning a couple of months (I've never played guitar before) & I'm loving it! It's hard to put down. The cat is just beginning to figure out that he really can't access my lap when there's a guitar on it. Best of all, he's no longer afraid of it.

The next awesome & related news is my new piano. Now just to be clear I have been very anti the idea of a digital piano - after all they'll never be the real thing - those shiny plastic keys are not something you can compare with "tinkling the ivories". But...

The other day me & Dr Pink went to look at one of these monsters - and yes I was put off by those shiny plastic keys...and then I saw it's neighbour - "ivory touch" (i.e. plastic, but not shiny & they've tried to make it feel like ivory with a tiny bit of matte texture). It was when it was switched on & I touched the keys that I was sold. Love at first sound. It also helps that it didn't have all the ugly buttons the others have. It's super pretty.

I have a black one, so I didn't feel like I was playing an iPod. It has 88 keys (Brian Eno, a grand piano has 88 keys - 88 not 84!). Sorry folks, Brian Eno was on a podcast I listened to last night when he made this criminal error.

Madly in love with this & the guitar I am kept busy between both - and resting, so I can keep up playing both. And thank goodness for online lessons. Justin whose site I mentioned earlier, has something very special going on there. I'm taking piano lessons at https://www.webpianoteacher.com/, which is nothing like Justin's friendly site but Shawn's lessons are good & easy to follow - if you can find them on the crazily (dis)organised site.

I hope you haven't missed me too much. Alright, yes I missed you too. This is the first blog in a while & now I have to go sort out my domain name & make sure it's up to date (pretty sure I've let it lapse *sigh*).

Love on the Internet

Only once in my life did I dally with love on the Internet. I was looking, and I knew exactly what type I was interested in; my list of requirements was not long, but I was being very choosy.

I read his advertisement, and my eye was drawn immediately to the photographs. It was the eyes. Those eyes captured me immediately. He lived in a different state. The ad requested applicants from his own area, which disappointed me, although I could understand. After all, there are enough complications in love without adding distance to it.

Still I felt compelled to answer the advertisement. It was the only ad on the site that appealed to me. Did I mention I was being choosy? I said upfront that I lived in another part of the country, I knew this to be a difficulty, but wondered whether I could be considered in the unlikely event that there was no other response to the ad.The answer was affirmative, but within a week I heard that there had been interest shown from someone living locally.

I was unreasonably disappointed. We hadn't yet met or even spoken but something about that advertisement made me feel, strangely, that he was "the one". It's embarrassing to admit it. After all what did I know about him apart from a few written lines and a couple of photographs. And what did he know about me? Nothing. I hadn't included a lot of details in the e-mail I sent.

He had children & was still living with their mother. The kids had all moved out & didn't have much to do with their parents.

I found myself thinking about him a lot. I'd saved the photographs to my computer and occasionally got them out to look at. I know it sounds a bit stalker, but he was extremely handsome, there was no doubt about that, and those eyes still caught me. And then one day I got an email. He was mine if I'd have him. The other "interest" had fallen through: After their initial meeting there had been no further contact.

We were both busy, me a little more than he, so it was 3 weeks until he was on a plane to Melbourne. I arranged to pick him up at the airport & we were to go back to my place. We'd arranged for him to stay there. I had the space after all & it made sense. I tried to break the ice by chatting to him in the taxi on the way home but I could tell he was nervous. Very nervous.

The nerves didn't settle on reaching my place. I'd arranged dinner, but he didn't have the stomach for it. I have to admit that although he was exactly like his photo, he looked like a stranger. For the first time I began to have my doubts. Imagination is one thing, reality is another, and all I'd had up until now was photos & emails - and the ad. What if he didn't like me? He'd not even had a photo of me, I doubt it would have made much difference.

He spent some time going over the apartment & had a rest in his room. He settled a little after & we had an early night. The next day it was obvious he hadn't slept a great deal. But within a short time I was sure this was going to work out.

It did work out. We spent a lot of time getting to know each other & as weeks turned into months we developed a deep connection.

Five years on & he's the love of my life & my husband adores him also. He has been my best online purchase & makes me happy every day of our life together.

Voice recognition software

my cat is sitting on my lap. He's just put as poor out to touch my hand which I think is pretty cute.

Today my voice recognition software arrived. My concept of voice recognition software is that it is bound to put billions of typists out of a job. And apparently as long as I'm talking about voice recognition software this seems to be proof to concept. But as soon as I go to start talking about my cat things change.

For example I want to start talking about is poor as you can see my voice recognition software needs to have further education about Cat S. Apparently it also has trouble with plurals occasionally. You see I want to say is Paul reached out to touch my hands firmly so spend some more time educating my software… Firmly? We have family coming from? I will now run to family. Of course I'm not running to family. That is my voice software I can hardly call it recognition as it's not doing that.

actually its interest in seeing what voice recognition software thinks I'm saying.apparently it will learn although I doubt it will learn patience.you see it doesn't need to.that's my job.quite a big job.

as I was saying the cat is sitting on my knee.he has curled up.and I am talking to my computer and learning terms such as scratch that for delete.although I can say delete.and it will. I think the cash enjoys this.I wouldn't swap him for money .I get the impression that he had Like the sound of my voice I wonder if he thinks I'm talking to Ham.what's fascinating me at the moment are the redundant capitals.I haven't yet learnt how to start a sentence with a capital every time.I'm not sure what the trigger is for this.

I gather that the software will learn as we go along.but nowhere on the box is the mention ( and I think this is a fair comment), that I think of the two of us I will be doing the most learning.