Not much has happened in our street since I last wrote...Wendy and Jason had a load of ready mixed concrete delivered for a floor for the new stables...then it hammered down with rain the whole night long and washed the entire surface totally away...
Henry and Mary have moved from the old railway station into a tiny bungalow in town...and Henry gave his donkey away but still has the two spiteful little Shetlands. He hasn't taken them into town of course because even he knows better than that...
Says the council gave them the bungalow because the station house is uninhabitable...me thinks strings were not just pulled but severely yanked...
I 'phoned the surgery nurse to find out the results of the blood tests I had done...all was fine. And my cholesterol has dropped dramatically even though I've been stuffing myself with full-fat everything and eating Camembert like it's going out of fashion...still managed to lose another few pounds this last week though, even after eating a whole packet of Mr Kipling's Cherry Bakewells ...not all at once...spaced out over the week.
We went into Roscommon town yesterday to buy some sheets and pillows...even getting them from a cheap and cheerful shop was a shock to my purse...and I bet they'll stink of dressing when I open them and be all sort of crunchy then go like a limp rag when they're washed. Might buy some old fashioned starch if I can find any...there is a programme on the washing machine for adding starch which surprised me a little. We could do with some more towels as well, but buying basic household stuff bores me rigid and always costs more than I imagine it will so I didn't get any...
Millie has caught her funny sort of wart thing on her forehead and made it bleed...it doesn't bother her though. She's had it for ages...
Bobby laid himself out flat beside the settee last night and then farted over and over again...those silent and deadly farts which had me diving beneath the covers to escape and then having to come up for air because I couldn't breathe with blankets over my face...Himself will insist on buying large tins of totally crappy dog food which is probably ancient donkey and chicken heads ground up with copious amounts of cheap cereal.
I'm re-reading The Devil Rides Out by Dennis Wheatley...it's very good. He wrote it in the 1930's but it doesn't seem dated at all apart from some of the language used which has now fallen out of fashion...prior to beginning this book I tried a couple of ghost stories...they were freebies on Amazon for Kindle...and they were feckin' awful...one was so dire I only read the first two chapters, the second wasn't quite as awful but certainly wasn't in the least bit scary...the minute the hero or heroine starts seeing blood seeping through the walls I want to shake the author and tell them to get a grip...it simply isn't scary...it's plain daft.
So...what else has happened...nothing much... hospital again on Wednesday and then Knock airport on Saturday to collect T and Reuben...might find out more about the oxygen then...not at the airport...the hospital. They'll have forty fits if I'm standing there with nose prongs...