~~
Thursday 1st 38F. Up at 5.45. 17C/63F upstairs. 14C/57F in the lounge and the kitchen.
No cooking class today. It falls fortnightly.
More domestic trivia bordering on an ongoing crisis: I am investigating a proper light for the bedroom. It is impossible to see anything. To tidy or even find clean clothes. Or anything else for that matter.
I have been using a plastic table lamp. With a tiny, remote control pad. While handy as a night light. To avoid being completely blinded. It does not light the room at all well. Which is arguably a slight benefit when I have to get up for a pee. I took my first Doxazosin tablet this morning. Trying to shrink my prostate. Surprisingly, this is listed as a contra-indication on the UK NHS website.
I have been using a plastic table lamp. With a tiny, remote control pad. While handy as a night light. To avoid being completely blinded. It does not light the room at all well. Which is arguably a slight benefit when I have to get up for a pee. I took my first Doxazosin tablet this morning. Trying to shrink my prostate. Surprisingly, this is listed as a contra-indication on the UK NHS website.
I tried the LED panel light, formerly from the entrance hall. This quickly proved to be unpleasantly bright. It is also impossible to avoid seeing the large source. Even with my back turned. Which defeats the whole point of a light. My eyes automatically adjusted to the excess brightness. So the rest of the room became dark. A common complaint. Or so I would imagine. For those who like lots of bright, point sources without shades. Kilowatts of lighting required. Just to overcome the eye's natural protection against bright [sunlit] conditions.
So I need a shaded light. Or lights? With a switch near the triangular, bedroom entrance beside the chimney. Which happily coincides with the head of my bed. I use the chimney as my headboard. With the help of a redundant wardrobe door. To avoid leaning against the rough render. Not that I ever sit up in bed to read. Or [say] use a tablet or laptop. At least not so far.
There is no TV in the bedroom. It is a dark, untidy and horribly overfilled cave. With little to recommend it as a place to sit and relax. Yes, we are right back to the treasure storage problem!
Hopefully this will not be my final resting place. Can you imagine the shame? The shame I felt when the doctor called to check on my dying wife after months of her refusal to see anyone. She lay in her untidy bed unable to sit up by that point. Surrounded by untidy boxes piled up against the sloping ceiling. Piled up against the gable end. Piled up along my side of the room. Two very narrow aisles the only access at bedtime. Or rising to face another day.
Rather terrifyingly, little has really changed. Except that it lacks my wife's skill at packing "stuff" into the minimum volume. When I open a box, to check its contents, it immediately become a Jack-in-the-Box. Its contents never to return to its original containment.
My wife's bed remains. Pushed up against the storage under the dark, sloping ceiling. Her bed separated from mine by a row of tubs containing some of my clothing. My identical bed is worn out from 26 years of my 75+kg tossing and turning. In variations between Arctic cold and endless summer heatwaves. Her bed is still as new. From supporting her tiny frame and weight over the same period.
My wife's bed remains. Pushed up against the storage under the dark, sloping ceiling. Her bed separated from mine by a row of tubs containing some of my clothing. My identical bed is worn out from 26 years of my 75+kg tossing and turning. In variations between Arctic cold and endless summer heatwaves. Her bed is still as new. From supporting her tiny frame and weight over the same period.
I could and probably should swap beds and discard my own to the recycling yard. Make room for yet more "stuff." Will the bed go through the new window opening? Both bed and "rescue" opening are 90cm wide.
The beds and mattresses are pocket sprung and weigh a ton! The mattress would probably go out of the window on the diagonal. The base I am not so sure. It is deeper at 40cm. I'll have to make a cardboard pattern. To see if the base would go out on the diagonal. The shelving unit boxes were the perfect pattern. Held up against the window? Not a chance in hell!
The lower windows in the balcony room are much larger and also square. Problem solved. Except for negotiating all the stuff between my bed and the balcony windows. The balcony floor is even worse than the bedroom!
Something must be done about the storage problem. But what? The stuff I have stored on the new shelving racks has no real meaning. Not to me. Yet I am loathe to discard it. Giving it away to charity shops might be possible. Though they probably turn up their noses at the mixed contents. Have you ever been told to go away by a charity shop and to stop donating stuff? I have.
I am also aware that it might have some accumulated value. If, it was all added up and sold for a reasonable price. How would it be sold? At a household contents auction? A few penniless souls. Coming in from the rain and the cold. Or a house clearance by a greedy, penny pinching, cheating, antique dealer? Do they even have those in Denmark? Cheats, I mean. There are far fewer antique shops over here.
I tried selling stuff online. Though admittedly I did it really badly. Listing too much stuff under one ad to save money. Few responses and most probably resellers looking or a profit. Selling online could become a hobby. It is for some. Do I really need another hobby? Endless, careful packing and driving to the distant parcel collection office to drop things off? Constantly reminded of its association with my dear, late wife?
I am beginning to favour clearing the far end of the shed. Set up the new shelving out there. Then fill it with all the boxes of stuff which presently haunt my every move indoors. I'll only put stuff out there which won't come to harm in fluctuating, unheated, but sheltered conditions. Like glass and china.
If, in the future, my attitude to the hoard changes. Then it will still be available. Perhaps to eke out my dwindling pension under hyperinflation. If not, then somebody will profit from my eventual demise. If they know what they are looking at.
The boxes of books could become my only warmth. As I burn our shared but independent library. Which filled so many of our hours of browsing and multiple bookcases. Over the long years we shared together. I shall be highly selective of course. Burn my books first. Save hers to the bitter end.
Now I am feeling sorry for myself. I had a painful back from yesterday's heavy lifting at the farm museum. My late walk did not have much effect. I am going to have to refuse to carry out such heavy lifting. My willingness to be helpful is my undoing. I am being exploited. If I am injured I cannot continue with my renovation work at home.
13.00 4C/40F. 13C/55F in the lounge. I have just returned from a trip into town. I made an appointment at a private hearing aid centre. Waiting 9-10 months for a hospital appointment could easily become over a year. Just as I reached my appointment date they twice pushed me 4 months further away.
My poor hearing is a handicap. I now have to use subtitles on all the TV and videos I watch. Yesterday I was asked openly why I did not have a hearing aid. They could not believe that I had been kept waiting for so long. It would be the end of April next year. Before I had any hope of a hearing aid fitting at the hospital.
I have had a headache all morning. Though I never get headaches. It must be the pill I took. It is listed as a possible side effect. I feel a bit dizzy too.
Dinner was a fry up. Quality bacon, with mushrooms and fried eggs. I added the second half of a tin of beans. With a bread roll to soak up the juice. The bacon was wonderful but my eggs broke on turning. In the confines of an already full frying pan.
~~
No comments:
Post a Comment