I have a strange and incredibly irritating rash on my leg which at night drives me to distraction and back. How can something itch so much? And when I eventually succumb and scratch it, the relief is wonderful but sadly short lived. The whole process of "I won't scratch it" sounds loudly in my head; the whole spiral repeats itself in a continuous nightmare of cooling it with ice, wearing gloves, reciting the alphabet backwards as a distraction, until I can stand it no longer and give in to the inevitable once again.
The rash has to be gone soon as we are going to spend the weekend away with my eldest son's girlfriend's parents. I am going to have to get into a hot tub and I don't want them thinking I have some highly contagious skin complaint. Or perhaps I have, who knows, nothing so far has made the slightest inroads into its disappearance.
Chinese New Year 2014 is the year of the Horse, which is quite apt as the days are galloping by. In my head the year is already mapped out, punctuated by essay deadlines, presentations and exams. Nestled in amongst these is a family get together which somehow I was asked to organise, but was then given a reprieve in favour of my studies.
Often we only see the ever decreasing clan at someone's funeral and so thought those still with us would appreciate a get together around a wooden table instead of when they are balanced on a couple of trestles in a wooden box, but already some older members are expressing doubts about attending. There is something about being out after dark that puts them so far out of their comfort zone as to outweigh all benefit that might be gained from a good old chat with people they haven't seen in years.
Mind you one of my uncle's is 92 and deaf as a post so he won't hear a word anyway! He is a spritely old gent, a hurricane pilot in his day, so it's really sad to learn they are fretting; we are arranging a get together mostly for their benefit and all we've done is cause them angst.
we were being guided only by the light of torches on our mobiles
It was like a huge sail in the wind and almost impossible to manoeuvre and steer in any direction. It got dragged through the mud, but so relieved were we to finally get it back where it belonged, and given that it was pitch dark and we were being guided only by the light of torches on our mobiles, we didn't notice all the dirt and grass and grit until the next morning.
When we took the said lid off, the water was no longer crystal clear and blue but a lovely sludge colour with bits floating on the surface. We had to go cap in hand to the site owners, explain what had happened and get them to empty and refill the whole thing. The site owner was not a happy bunny, and the whole procedure took several hours. The saving grace was that they filled it from the hot tap and not the cold water hose pipe so that we were able to use it again later that evening when we drank pina colada from scooped out pineapples complete with curly straws and those little cocktail umbrellas. Well it said in the rule book you couldn't use glasses in the hot tub, so we improvised!
Don't you just hate it when Windows decides right now would be a really good time to install updates and reconfigure? Right now is not in the least convenient for me, the person whose laptop it allegedly is. Then it was kind enough to tell me I had a large amount of data held on the clipboard. Really? Oh so when I was in the middle of cutting and pasting some very important work (ok I pinched it offline but it's fully referenced - that's why it's on the clipboard) integral to a decent mark in April, you decide to shut me down.