This week has felt as if I am living next door to a building site. The new neighbours have certainly made their presence known. All day long, I have been subjected to crash, bangs and wallops.
If I was on holiday in a hotel, and not at home, I would be one of those poor sods on Watchdog, complaining that the excessive noise not only ruined their two week break, but their entire life, resulting in clinical depression and their left leg going septic.
What on earth could my neighbours be doing, spending all this time, making all that noise? Claire is under the impression that they’re having their bathroom renovated; although given the persistent din of hammers and drills, you would be forgiven for thinking that the Sistine Chapel was being recreated, in their semi-detached, two bed house.
I hope that my neighbours have planning permission to build this…
I am yet to decide what I should do about the noise problem. One option is to, of course, ignore the sound of the building work, safe in the knowledge that it should eventually cease, once Bob the Builder has finished whatever project he has been assigned.
The alternative to the mature, good natured approach, is to return the favour by making a racket myself. If I did chose to go down the revenge route, I would need a way of generating a similar level of noise myself.
How this noise can be achieved, is the million dollar question. Carrying out building work myself is not exactly original. Plus I would have to pay a craftsman to knock a wall down, or something equally destructive. I like our house, so wouldn’t be too happy about any walls being torn down.
Loud music is always an option. I believe that death metal is a particularly unpleasant genre. I am sure that there are various play lists on Spotify. You never know, there might even be a compilation CD – THE BEST DEATH METAL ALBUM IN THE WORLD… EVER.
As with the plan to seek revenge with building work of my own, the death metal idea is also flawed. I can’t recall ever listening to such music, but something tells me that I won’t like it and it’ll probably cause my ears to bleed. That is never good. I have enough health issues at the moment and don’t want to add to them with bleeding ears. Perhaps death metal isn’t the way forward.
My third and final plan to seek revenge, is to borrow a very large dog. I may not know a lot about dogs, but I know that if you lock one in a room for a long period of time, it will bark excessively. A dog barking throughout the day and night is bound to drive my new neighbours crazy!
Unsurprisingly, this third idea is even more problematic than the first two… I am rather scared of dogs, I don’t know anyone who could lend me one and most importantly, locking a dog in a room is rather cruel. Despite being a little frightened of them, I would never harm a dog.
Looks like I’ll have to be the bigger man – ironic, considering my height – and sit back, patiently waiting for the noise from next door to cease. Either that, or I’ll telephone the police.
Eleven days have passed since I was discharged from hospital. Since my scooter accident, 28 days ago, I have tried to keep my blog updated with my recovery process.
Not many posts regarding my health have been made recently, mainly because there hasn’t been a great deal to report.
I continue to spend almost all of my time in bed – although do manage to get into a wheelchair most days, for roughly 45 minutes, before a combination of exhaustion and discomfort force me to lie down again.
This is very frustrating for me. I know the reasons why I am unable to sit out for longer than three quarters of an hour. I also know that things will improve over time, although it is often difficult to convince myself of this fact.
Firstly, due to the large amount of bed rest which I am receiving, I am massively out of condition, which makes standing, transferring into my wheelchair and even sitting down, a tiring ordeal.
I was going to post a picture of a bed, to represent the time I currently spend in mine. However, I found that to be dull and depressing. I am therefore using a seabed instead! Genius?
More importantly, though, is the fact I have two broken arms and the unfortunate impact this has on me, when combined with my pre-existing medical condition, scoliosis.
For the last few years, I have been unable to sit straight and upright in a chair, like an able-bodied individual would expect to. If I was to try, I would experience pain and even breathing difficulties. This is because my back would be taking too much pressure from being seated.
I have learnt to adapt to this problem, by learning on one of my arms, usually the left. This allows my arm or elbow to take a large part of the strain, instead of my back and curved spine.
Now that both of my arms are broken, this self-discovered workaround can no longer be used. The good news is that I am noticing very small improvements to my fractured limbs, with each day.
I feel less physically strained while sat outside of the bed and believe that my posture is better than it was, compared to when I first left hospital. I am sure that this is because my arms are gradually healing. I have noticed that I have started to lean on them, as I did in the past, albeit only exerting a small amount of pressure.
Progress is still maddeningly slow and I remain equally as frustrated at home as I did in hospital – although must stress that I am infinitely happier and less bored where I am now, compared to Bay 1, Bed 3.
There are so many reasons why home is better than hospital, and in writing this, I have given myself an idea for a ‘feel good’ blog post, listing all of them. Expect that post in the next couple of days.
Two final bits of positivity to round off this post…
Since I started writing, I stopped midway through in order to eat my tea. It was during this break, that I discovered it is now possible to link my right and left hands together, as if I was praying. Totally impossible up until today. I am also able to rotate my left hand, so I can see the palm.
You can tell my leftie has been out of order for so long – it was covered in dead, dry skin. Remember in school, you would cover your hands in glue and pick it off once it had dried? That’s what it was like removing the old skin from my left hand. This has revealed a smooth, clean and soft palm. Don’t worry – my evening meal had long since finished, by the time I started peeling my hand off.
As a ten year old, I had more fun with this stuff than anything else * – and I owned Sonic the Hedgehog 2
* I was a middle-class ten year old, living in the Georgian city of Bath. I know the 1980s had only recently come to an end, but the “fun” I had did NOT involve any glue-sniffing!
My second piece of good news concerns those bloody injections, I have been receiving each day.
Guess what? Tonight was the final jab of the course. Yipeee! My tummy may look like a pin cushion, but there will be no more nightly needles for me.
I know how you feel, mate
I recently blogged about a very disturbing story in the news, involving a man who tortured and murdered a cat, by setting his pet dog upon it.
The good news is that the thug has since been apprehended, found guilty and given a custodial sentence.
The bad news is that the sentence is only for 18 weeks – a pitiful length of jail time, for such a cruel and evil crime.
18 weeks is apparently the longest sentence which the judge could be imposed. It is disturbing to learn that somebody can display psychopathic traits towards a living creature, yet only be imprisoned for a few months.
Let it not be forgotten, that many serial killers have a history of cruelty to animals. Perhaps anyone found guilty of violent crimes against animals, should be treated with greater caution, as their next victim could be human…
You can always rely upon the internet to find weird stuff. This afternoon, I discovered a video of a chef preparing, what can only be described as a steak, covered in gold. Yes, gold – as in the precious metal. Not Terry’s All Gold chocolate, Thatchers Gold cider or Nescafe Gold Blend coffee – all three of which, would have made more sense than covering a perfectly good steak (for non-veggies) in Au.
I feel that I should point out that this video was posted on social media, by a professional football player.
Assuming that it was taken by the footballer himself, and not shamefully stolen (like I have done for this blog post), it simply enforces the suggestion that these ‘professionals’ are paid far too much.
What’s for dessert? A chocolate covered faberge egg?
Finally, I must admit to being impressed with the manner in which the chef, elegantly flicks salt onto his culinary work – assuming he has washed his arms and elbow, as well as his hands. I might try the same with my fries, next time I’m in McDonalds.
It’s a shame that being a vegetarian, I will never be able to try this steak *.
I wonder if they offer a Quorn version…
* the fact that I’m a veggie – plus the small matter of not being a millionaire, with more money than sense.
Over four and a half years ago, Bath City took on a little-known team from Essex called Concord Rangers.
City held onto a 1-0 scoreline for much of the game and it looked like they would take all three points.
Unfortunately, Concord equalised late into the match. What can I say? It happens. Considering that this took place almost five years ago and the result had no significant impact on the season, I feel that I have got over it!
I can’t really remember much about the game at all, apart from one incident involving their manager, Danny Cowley. Upon witnessing his team equalise, Concord’s boss ran to the Bath City bench, before spotting Twerton Park legend, Jim Rollo, and shouting like a yob, “I remember you! You’re a c**t!”
I remember you too, Danny.
I am sure you will agree, that kind of behaviour is disgusting – especially when addressing a hero like Jim Rollo. Sorry, Sir Jim Rollo.
Why am I bringing all of this back up now? Well, since that dark day of obscene profanity, Danny Cowley has been doing rather well for himself, progressing from club to club, climbing the football pyramid and his own career ladder. Despite his previous indiscretion, I can bring myself to congratulate the man on his achievements.
It just so happens, that this afternoon, Mr Cowley finally got the chance to take on my other team – Leeds United.
The former-Concord boss is now managing Huddersfield Town. Anyone who knows about football, or geography for that matter, will be aware that this is a local fixture for Leeds.
These derbies can be notoriously difficult, despite the fact Leeds are having a superb season, and Huddersfield are struggling.
Leeds thankfully won the game, to return to the top of the league.
How did Danny Cowley react? Did he call the world-famous Leeds manager, Marcelo Bielsa, a bad four-letter word?
Of course not…
Arse kisser Cowley. *
* admittedly, given the chance, I would kiss Marcelo Bielsa’s behind too.
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
