Aw Diddums

You know those “what’s in your bag” things that go around? Last night I crawled into bed with a stash of stuff to enjoy before lights-out, and it occurred to me to wonder if anybody’s ever filled out a “what did I take to bed last night?”

If we launched that as a meme, we’d have to stipulate that sleeping partners and other living beings (except possibly pets) don’t count. Also it has to be what’s in/on the bed, not next to the bed or on the floor.

The following joined me last night:

1. writing pad (unused reorder forms) and gold-coloured Staples pen
2. cuddly moose
3. cuddly mouse
4. cuddly lion
5. cuddly bear
6. Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
7. box of Toffifee sweets (unopened)
8. Bikram’s Beginning Yoga Class by Bikram Choudhury with Bonnie Jones Reynolds
9. Art by Robert Cumming
10. birthday card from someone… not sure why it was there, but it was

Can anyone beat that?

Been a touch distracted; I’m not even carrying on with copying the old posts across from the old site at the moment. I hope to catch up with everyone’s blogs and comments ASAP.

I was playing with layer styles and vectors… I can’t work with vectors in Photoshop Elements, huff! But I can in Paintshop Pro, bless its brightly coloured cotton socks. I’m not able to make Photoshop brushes using vectors with Photoshop Elements 2.0 alone (I’ve no idea if the more recent versions are better… I heard a hint they were even more cut down, at least in some areas), but with both the computers working on it, I can.

It’s obvious the struggle my old PC has compared to the newer Mac, though. Lots of huffing and puffing. I’m not angry with it, just sorry. It’s been a valiant wee machine.

This isn’t very good, just being an experiment… but do you recognize the bear?
I should be cleaning out the cat tray…

This morning Mum was rushing around looking for her car keys, and eventually left without them. Two minutes after her departure, I found them laid out on the stairs – they’d been stolen by the kittens. Nothing is safe with those two – they have shredded Mum’s headphones and played basketball with her watch. I expect she misses Sharky just as much as I do!

I laughed out loud at a couple of posts I moved across from Blogigo, mostly at the comments:

Tempus Fugit
Stark Realization

It was a relief to find ones I wanted to move rather than delete.

I wish I could have kept up more with the BlogFriday prompts, as some good words have gone by. I found quite an angry little post yesterday (about Jolly) which could have been used for the word ‘judgemental’!

By popular demand, I have restored my old avatar – I have to say I’m pleased to see that bear’s face again. He won a big class, you know! I also figured out how to add some rather clumsy subscription links to the foot of the sidebar – I didn’t realize at first they weren’t automatically part of the layout. There’s one for this blog, and another for the comments.

Yesterday I found a bear sitting in my seat on the sofa. It was a Ty Attic Treasures bear called Samuel, dressed up like Uncle Sam of the United States.

I knew Mum had a bear like this, and didn’t pay much attention, but Mum said “it’s for you.”
“Oh, thank you,” I said – “I thought he was your bear”.
“I’ve got one too,” she said.
I looked inside his heart tag – it said “I WANT YOU!”

Seems like he’s got it all sussed out.

He was holding a book for me – a copy of Harrius Potter et Philosophi Lapis. The gift label said “Last Day of Christmas present.”

I’ve been wanting one for years, ever since I saw a Harrius Potter in the Roman Baths tourist shop in Bath. I was going to buy one from Amazon if nobody got me it this Christmas… the scary thing is that I thought “well I didn’t get it for Christmas, so I could order it. But who knows what will happen on New Year’s Day?” (My family has a habit of giving New Year’s Day gifts too; could be anything from a lump of coal to a DVD).

New Year’s Day came and went – I got a stick of Toblerone and some money for the sales.

“Well, I better get onto Amazon and order that Harrius Potter book. On the other hand, I’m going to the dentist soon; I don’t want my Amazon parcel to coincide with the dental appointment.”
So I waited…

Moral of this story: Christmas isn’t over till the last day.

Happy Halloween! This is a bear Mum got me the other day – she’s a Ty Attic Treasure. The bear, that is.

Agoraphobic people hate sunlight. Well we don’t really, but you know what I mean! It encourages people to come out and trail around in large shambly groups; everything we do is lit up in a bright glare which makes us even more self-conscious; some agoraphobics have a sensitivity to light – maybe all of us do without realizing it? We have to take off our jackets and sweaters when we would rather huddle into them, and there’s no excuse to put up our hoods (unless we’re hoodies) or duck under an umbrella.Bright sunshine is overrated!

Too many folks!

At one point I couldn’t move. “They have nothing else to do on a Sunday,” said Mum, apologetically. But on the whole I was in a good mood and smiled at everybody and made room for them, and me and the wheelie bag went skipping about (yes I know that’s bad grammar) and nobody fell over us this time. Well, when you were feeling agoraphobic in town – dizzy and not even able to cross the road – it’s a huge relief when you can go where you want and buy things without hesitating and gallop blithely across roads which would have made you shudder only a fortnight ago. That would put anybody in a good mood because then it stops being something you take for granted.

Jolly’s tricks

I bet none of you realized wheelie bags can walk – I was trying to move it down off the kerb, and it put one wheel down then swung the other down to join it. Thus, instead of falling down with a bump, it stepped neatly off, and I wanted to cheer and tell it how clever it was. Yesterday it had a slight accident when it crashed rather hard over a rough bit of the pavement, and I came uncomfortably close to patting it and telling it “there there, it’s alright.” It took me ages to shake off the urge. Anyway it did good work for us today by taking some heavy and bulky items off our hands; it wasn’t just wheeling around in our wake. Mum collected some used coffee grounds from Starbucks for the garden, and when we gave it to the wheelie bag to carry, it lumbered around like an overfed bulldog.

Buying beary love

Here’s a picture of two of my ‘junk shop finds’ for today – a Primark bear and a Disney Tigger. I collect ‘name’ toys, which includes Russ Berrie, Boyds and Disney – emphasis is on cats and bears. Normally I wouldn’t pay attention to something like a Primark bear as it’s just a cheapie, but every so often there’s something about a cheapie bear that I can’t resist! This one is very soft to the touch and has nice features. I always look critically at bears in shops – trying to give the impression I’m buying them for a child and am just checking them over. I’m not sure how many of the volunteers are taken in, as most of them know us well by now. Anyway, I turned him upside down and round about, gave the ears a tug, parted the fur and smoothed it back from the eyes to check for scratches or cracks, then seized the chin to make sure his mouth wasn’t flapping loose. I suddenly felt as though I was checking the teeth of a nag in Tattersalls.

Tigger only made it because he’s so beautifully clean and has a nice face too – normally Disney is at the bottom of my collection scope.

I’m not a horror fan but I’m an Alien fan

My prime find for today was a clean boxed set of Alien videos for £10. I’ve had my eye on these for a while as they are close-captioned but expensive brand new. After buying this set, we went into the charity shop next door and found they had a set for £11. I’m glad it wasn’t the other way around! A while ago I passed over a set which was £12 – I seem to remember one of the videos in the set was ‘the making of the film’, and those aren’t normally subtitled.

The set I bought was in the shop window, and I had to ask the volunteer for it - he was a boy of about 20, I think, and when I said “the boxed set of Alien, please!” a look of respect came into his eyes. I got much the same look in a shop in York when I grabbed a bunch of videos which were largely science fiction - one was Judge Dredd, unfortunately not subtitled, but I knew I had to have it in my collection ‘just because’. Maybe I’ll find a subtitled DVD of it one day? I love Judge Dredd; it’s one of my favourite films and I could watch it forever without getting sick of it.

The magic of books

I know some of you are a little suspicious of ‘things’ as they just gather dust and take up room (unless you can sell them for a profit on eBay), but ‘things’ are not all I bought - I got six books, including Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison - £1.75. I’ve liked his books ever since I borrowed The Stainless Steel Rat from the library. Today I had to buy Make Room! Make Room! after reading the blurb on the back:

1999 – automation, total welfare, and weekends on the moon…. or an overcrowded world that knows that the dawn of the new century is the edge of disaster – a world of starving billions living on lentils, soya beans and – if they’re lucky – the odd starving rat. In a city of thirty-five million people, Andy Rusch is engaged in a desperate and lonely hunt for a killer everyone has forgotten… for even in a world such as this a policeman can find himself utterly alone…

Totally my cup of tea. And bagsies the well-fed rat I spotted near the car dealership.

Spooky purchases

We had lunch in a café and ate silently. Upon finishing, Mum announced rather loudly “I’m going to buy a broomstick.”
“Ha ha,” I said politely… but then we went into the garden centre where she picked up a really witchy broomstick and bought it without any humming and hawing. I had no idea these were available and my eyes popped. “What are you going to do with that?” I demanded, as we toted it along to the car. Her only answer was to tap the side of her beaky nose.

I felt a Halloweeny tug of my own when we passed a mound of pumpkins, and stopped short and gazed with all my eyes. I really wanted to buy one but was already carrying books and videos and rubber mats and things. Even the wheelie bag took fright at the thought of adding a pumpkin to the load. I’ve never considered buying one before, which is a good reason why I should do it for once. And only this morning I was attracted by Timorous Beastie’s blog post, Orange Rock. I don’t know about chasing the thing around my house, but I want to make Pumpkin Soup too. Anyone got any good recipes?

Edit Feb 2008: Comments to this post when it was on Blogigo:

Pete wrote at Sep 3, 2006 at 22:43:
bear is cute !!

Diddums wrote at Sep 4, 2006 at 09:19:
Bear says thank you!

Pacian wrote at Sep 4, 2006 at 19:43:
“Maybe I’ll find a subtitled DVD of it one day?”

It’s rare to find a DVD that isn’t subtitled.

Love the bear, btw!

I forgot to have supper but I’m not hungry – I’m still scrubbing the house from top to bottom because the gas inspector is coming. I suppose I don’t want him accidentally swallowing a dust bunny while he’s crawling around under the gas fire. Nor do I want him spotting any smudges on my sparkling white hall wall as he walks past, or discovering cobwebs on his fingers when he’s been twiddling the radiator switches. The hob isn’t gleaming yet, but the black pan supports have been through the dishwasher – along with my collection of empty coffee jars, which have been building up rather.

While I’m at it, I should wash the cat flap, as it’s got muddy again and nobody can see through it. Then I should buy an air freshener from the supermarket next door, and arrange it in a cupboard just where it will make the inspector sneeze. I should bake bread and brew coffee, and arrange all my bears in a welcoming pose. There could be one sitting by the front door with a garland of flowers to put over his head.

Does anybody else do this specially for the gas inspection, or is it just that I don’t have anybody else to spring clean for?

On with the chores…

Edit Feb 2008: Comments to this post when it was hosted by Blogigo:

mistwarrier wrote at May 30, 2006 at 10:08:
i think you are into spring cleaning and want to make a good impression and there us nothing wrong with that.
hmmm!! while you are at-you want to come and clean here.
chuckling

kateblogs wrote at Jun 1, 2006 at 19:44:
No, you’re not alone. I vacuum inside the meter box when they come to read it LOL

A few days ago I was listening to Hugga Wugga on my Muppet Show album. Then last night I had some peculiar dreams – they were verging on hallucinations! Just as I was dropping off to sleep, it seemed to me that a large teddy bear was in bed with me, his long arms draped round my neck. His yellow eyes started to glow softly, and his paws tightened till I was being throttled.

Waking, I broke the bear’s stranglehold, took a couple of deep breaths, and went back to sleep. Just as I was floating off, the same happened. The bear hugged me tighter and tighter till I woke up again, gasping, and pushed him back.

“This is just a dream,” I said to myself. “It will be gone when I go back to sleep.”

Drowsing off again, I choked in the bear’s pitiless grasp, his eyes staring venomously into mine.

“No, no, no!” I thought, rousing for the third time. “I’ve got to wake up a little more.” I turned over on my side, and finally the bear was gone. For the rest of the night I dreamed a confusing whirl of shapes and colours, nothing making sense. I did not feel rested when morning came, and lay for a while thinking “what if that was a message to the human race from all bearkind?”

“Hug! Wug! Wuggy! Wugga! Wuggaaargh!”

Sinister, you’ll agree…

My family’s not all that much like other families, or maybe other families don’t admit it! I was over at Mum’s today and just as I got up to go, she said “I’ve got something for you.” She entered her bedroom while I waited outside, and after a moment I noticed a large cuddly pig peeping round the door.

“Hello,” I said – “who are you?”
The pig came all the way out to greet me, holding a blue sign with the words ‘Someone Piggin Special’.
She was lovely! I have a family of cuddly Piggins – two parents and a host of Piggin brats. Seeing the challenging light in the eyes of the new one, I said “she’s the grandmother!”

I feel all fuzzy and warm now.

Well that might seem peculiar and somewhat ‘lose-a-guy-in-10-days’ish, but when I was out earlier, I saw something so peculiar it was downright dangerous. More like ‘lose-a-life-in-10-minutes’.

I was walking along the pavement with Thundercloud, having just left a small park, and a man passed us on a bicycle. With one hand he was steering the handlebars and with the other he was clamping a long grey pipe under his arm. The pipe can’t have been far short of 3 metres long.

My first thought was “I’m glad he didn’t hit me with that.” Or if I had swung out suddenly, he could have taken fright and wobbled over towards the middle of the road, even though a car was currently overtaking him.

I still can’t get my head round how someone thinks he can get off with transporting pipes by bicycle. I will stick with my plush toys! I might be piggin peculiar but I’m not dangerous. Yet.

Edit Feb 2008: I liked the comments I got when this post was still on Blogigo.

davecathy wrote at May 9, 2006 at 12:39:
A cyclist carrying a drain pipe is bad enough, but I have several times seen cyclists taking their dog for a (quick) trot, the lead attached to the handlebars. In my book, that is both a riding offence and cruelty to the pooch.

Even worse, there is a man who regularly takes his dog round the local park by means of dangling the lead out of his car window. If I could run as fast as his poor dog had to, I would have told him what I thought of him and his odious pastime.

Oink Oink.

Diddums wrote at May 10, 2006 at 01:49:
They must have a lot of confidence – maybe too much. How does one drive while (1) making sure dog doesn’t run too close to car; (2) without crashing said car? Brr.

kateblogs wrote at May 11, 2006 at 20:25:
I’ve seen people walking their dogs whilst riding bikes, but driving a car! Thats incredible, I hate to be insulting, but how dumb are they?

Yes, stick to your pigs Diddums, at least they are safe. And I must be peculiar too, I have one sitting next to my pc. LOL.

Diddums wrote at May 11, 2006 at 21:14:
Those pigs get around :-). Hopefully not by bicycle.

I have a magic teddy – we’ll call him Bear. He says broadcasting his real name would give rival beargicians too much power over him. Bear’s special power is a type of divination – he finds things. Provided it was something you had in the first place, he will find it for you.

Once Mum passed me a magazine and said “please find me that article about stamps – I’ve been hunting for ten minutes and still can’t see it.” With Bear on my lap, I opened the magazine at the correct page and handed it back in three seconds.

Bear has never been proved wrong – not once. Of course, I thought I had him the other morning.
“Where are my specs?” I asked, searching blindly through a thick fog.
“Beside your bed,” replied Bear.
“I just looked there,” I protested.
“Look again,” said Bear.

I obediently checked, lifting books and papers from the bedside table.

“They’re not here, Bear dear” I insisted. “You finally goofed!”
Bear’s ears twitched in annoyance. “I did not goof!” he snapped. “Try again!”
Back I turned – and spotted a blurry shape lying at the foot of the bedside table. I bent and picked it up – it was an empty glass which had been swept unnoticed to the floor.
“Good thing I didn’t stand on it!” I thought. “But I wonder what else got knocked off the table when I wasn’t looking?” I felt down the crack between bed and table, and there they were… the missing spectacles.

Two months ago my sister and I were at the Scottish NHS outpatients clinic in the next town – horrible place. E suggested we get some coffee before going into the waiting room, but I just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Fortunately we didn’t have to wait very long. When we went into the consulting room, there were two bears – actually a large floppy bear and a Koala. They both looked reasonably cheerful, which was good, because I didn’t like the idea of them living there all of their born days. I wondered what it was like for them inside that windowless room with only each other to talk to – no other bears or dolls.

I also wondered if someone else had felt that it wasn’t right to leave one bear by itself – or if there was a ‘practical’ reason for having two bears. If two children came in, one might cry if the other got to play with the only bear. So what do they do when someone comes in with three children?

I suppose we all think strange random thoughts while sitting in a cocoon of boredom in a hospital, waiting for something to happen.

Anyway, we’re both getting new hearing aids – mine are surely about 15 years old but I can’t quite remember. We did so badly in our tests that E said we will probably get the best of those they have to offer, but she received the impression from what she was told that even those might not work well for us.

I was hoping for miraculous technology – upper class hearing aids, FM systems (phonic ears?) and pocket talkers… but the lady at the NHS said we were to come back in two months to have hearing aids issued, which gives the rather grey impression of us lining up outside a little window, holding out our hands for one basic hearing aid each. OK, I’m exaggerating – we will get two each, but this is the picture that was floating through my mind. Not “which one will suit you best?” or “can we also improve your social and business life with a Pocket Talker?” More “here’s a hearing aid – like it or lump it.”

Well, it was a lovely dream while it lasted.

I said we didn’t have to wait very long to be seen, but leaving the car park was a different story! There was a long queue of cars just sitting there with people struggling to emerge from a parked position. I couldn’t see what the delay was; E said it can be difficult to exit the park onto the road, but it didn’t look that bad – my suspicion is that the automatic barrier got cranky and held us all prisoner.

E said one of Mum’s friends was trapped by that barrier – she put the money in, and it refused to let her leave. Perhaps it’s a way of making sure the hospital never lacks for patients, preferably suffering from anxiety and depression.

Got a horrible headache in the car coming home. It wasn’t a long-lasting, pounding headache – it seemed to be behind one eye and down the side of my neck. You keep moving your head restlessly, trying to get more comfortable, but the nagging pain doesn’t ease. I thought at first it was Hospital Tension, but finally realized it was a brand new form of travel sickness.

Lovely…

Now that the two months are up, we’re going in to get our NHS handouts. I hope they work – and I better remember the travel pills.

In a dream on Thursday night, a friend showed me a goldfish bowl with tiny semi-transparent specks swimming around in it.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“They’re growing Beanie Babies,” she said.
I leaned in and looked closer. I could just about see the specks were tiny swimming bears.
“I had no idea,” I breathed. “I thought they made them in factories.”
“A lot of people think that,” responded my friend. “The truth is, Beanie Babies are spawned.”

Yesterday we attended the annual Teddy Bear Show.

I hoped I wouldn’t win anything. I’ve been on edge for a while. There was a bad weekend when I was tired and annoyed, and just as I was getting back on track, my spirits set off again on the downward spiral. Some days I’m at the end of my tether, but the doctor took my blood pressure this morning (it was her idea, not mine) and said it’s normal.
“So you can’t REALLY be at the end of your tether,” said Mum.

How can my blood pressure be normal?! I feel as though I’ve secretly got rabies.

Mum said “if you think you’re at the end of your tether now, wait till you’re my age.”
I suppose by the time you get to her age, you’ve gone through an extra 30 years of stress, fury and irritation.

In one way I couldn’t imagine NOT going to the bear show; in another way I didn’t feel ready for it. Mum was saying things like “maybe I’ll put THAT bear in the such and such class.” Instead of replying “yes, that’s a pretty bear,” I shrugged and said nothing. What that really meant was “it’s as good a bear as any other and I expect you’ll make up your own mind about it.” She said, “it doesn’t matter, you know – it’s just a bit of fun – it’s for a laugh.”

She went to the kitchen to get tea and I still didn’t speak, but I wasn’t sure why she felt it necessary to point it out. I don’t invest my hopes in winning at the bear show – I don’t feel that I have to uphold any particular beary standard. I enjoy choosing my bears and showing them off but I hate being in the limelight. The bears can be in the limelight, but leave me to lurk in the shadows, please!

Then it crossed my mind, maybe she was misinterpreting my downcast expression as “we’ve got to pick the RIGHT bear and that one isn’t it!” Or maybe she realized I was lacking in my usual enthusiasm and was trying to rally me round. Or maybe I was depressing her, and she was trying to rally herself! It can be so difficult to understand what someone else is trying to say (or why they’re saying it).

When we got to the show I was thinking “I shouldn’t show my best bears – I’m not in the mood to win!” But there they were by my side, looking forward with bright beady eyes to the oohs and aahs of the crowd – I couldn’t disappoint them.

Mum’s bears collected a 2nd and a 3rd (including in the bear poem class, which I didn’t enter – having seen her poem!) Big Sister turned up with one of her bears and put him in two classes. He’s so big he had to borrow her chair rather than sit on the table with the others, but he didn’t win anything.

To my horror, there were only three entrants for the Bear with Picture class, which meant I was assured of a placing. I won it. I seem to have a habit of winning that class with photos from the computer. I said to Mum I feel guilty, as it only took me two minutes to print out the photo that morning, and I should have sweated over it a bit more. On the other hand, I did the main work some time ago, and only three people entered the class at all.

The Judge’s Favourite Bear class was very popular, with 30-plus bears, all very beautiful and charming. I relaxed, thinking I was certain not to win this one, then my jaw dropped when she said “and the winner is… ” (and fished out a bear from the back of the crowd, which turned out to be a certain Eskimo Bear clutching baby penguin.

Aah. Won twice. Best in Show went to someone else, though.

The prizes left over by the end of the show (which was when I started winning) weren’t great – a scarlet felt bear made in Germany and a padded picture frame. My sister said I should put the frame in a raffle. Probably will. Though it goes quite well with my curtains! I like the bear, though it’s not one I would have bought. It has an uplifted snout and a cheerful expression, and I need a bit of cheer just now.

Quite a cheery day, when all is said and done. It could have been responsible for bringing down my blood pressure – which was never high, as far as I know, but feels as though it’s been trying to dig a hole in the ozone layer.

EDIT (Dec 2007):

When this was originally published on Blogigo, I got the following comment from Davecathy:

Sounds like you just woke up like a bear with a sore head, just a little grizzly. Still you bared your soul, picked the bear bones out of it and went on to be a clever little teddy and won. You deserve some honey for tea.

I hope he doesn’t mind me quoting it – I was unable to transfer any of my older comments across from Blogigo, but I liked that one.

Last summer we went to a huge car boot sale. Mum said there must have been 200 stalls when she was expecting 50. I said I was expecting a sweet little sale with 20!

I threw a wobbly, which is the first time I’ve done that for ages. I get a little worrit at times, usually when I’m somewhere like a shopping centre, but it’s the first time for years that I’ve had to say, “sorry, I’m going back to the car!”

The odd thing is, I was fine the minute I stepped back through the gate. The stalls and the people were still right behind me and the cars were parked ahead – hundreds of them – but I immediately felt better. It was as though I had been trying to push myself through a wall, and the headache only disappeared when I stopped.

It was a lovely place and I wished I had bought my camera. The sun was hot and bright, the sky blue with huge sweeping clouds meeting the blue sea. There were golden fields of oats nodding on either side of the airfield with a heat haze shimmering above their hairy ears. The cars were all shining like mirrors – I remember the silver on the stalls blinded me as I walked past; even white paper hit me with a blinding glare. I had to leave the car door open or I would have suffocated – the sun was so hot on my skin I wrapped my raincoat round my arm to protect it. There were a few thrips landing annoyingly on my nose and hands. One smeared rusty red blood on my slacks.

A few people in sporty cars with hoods down were driving around just for the joy of it. I saw a silver sports car come flying down the road past me, with a couple in it who looked about 60. There was pure happiness on their faces, big grins. I thought rather wistfully “they look happy” but my physical reaction was to shrink away. “Go away, people – you are the enemy.”

I got out of the car and stood looking at the views all around. I was quite happy except for a lingering feeling of shock and disappointment. I really wanted to look at all those stalls and see what they had. There was a stall of Ty Beanie Babies, all nice and clean – Mum said “do you want any?” and I said “no” and walked past – just as I left I caught sight of a white bear with a blue star and blue wings. I’ve been looking for that one. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it though; it was right there on the table and I was too stressed out to buy it!

They finally came back to the car, and Mum gave me a lovely Russ teddy called Timber. “We can try again!” they said, and grinned at me. I didn’t say no. I said I wished I had taken the camera, it was lovely there. “What is there to take pictures of?” asked my sister.
“People going past laden with goodies” said Mum.
“No, it was the big sky, big sea…” I said. “It made me think of America.”

The very next weekend we tried going to a different car boot sale. I quite enjoyed myself and even bought a few things. We recognized some of the stalls from the previous sale – the one that annoyed me the most had dejected teddy bears tethered to a rope. The notice said “Dog toys – 50p”. There should be a law against it! Anyway, the beanie baby lady was there, with her blue star bear, so of course I bought it. “You can’t get this in the shops here,” she said. Nice to meet someone who knows her beanie babies.

I have a little trick, mind you. It’s the way I got myself used to going round the supermarket again. Even if I was only getting bread and milk, I would take a trolley (‘shopping cart’ for those with a more U.S. vocabulary) instead of a hand-basket. It made me feel safer because I could lean on the trolley. So at this car boot sale I got out a small wheelie suitcase of Mum’s, just a little upright one with a long handle. I thought we had a proper shopping trolley but this was all I could find. It’s peculiar, I even feel better if I have a huge bag without wheelies – there’s something about lugging it around that’s reassuring. It puts it between me and the rest of the world! I wasn’t the only one – there were lots of shopping trolleys there. I vividly remember a huge red tartan one.

When we got home I opened up the trolley and it was stuffed with all the bears we had bought. There was nothing there that wasn’t a bear in some form (stuffed or ornament).

I preferred the second sale because the crowd and the stalls were more dispersed and sectioned up. Short little rows – you turned the corner and embarked on the next, or you could go back round the edge to the exit. The first sale was two very long rows of stalls with the crowd confined to the middle – much more formal layout and no way of leaving in a hurry. With Mum’s trolley in tow, though, I have no worries…

Spammers are tenacious. Here’s an illustration:

Almost ten years ago I was foolish enough to put my email address on my website. Worse than that, I had several different email addresses. One was for a giant grey mouse (stuffed toy) called Mou. Years ago I removed all email addresses from my site, including Mou’s. But the spam is still coming, and today I noticed one (in the trash folder, waiting for the delete key) with the subject heading Stock Tips for Mou. As it happens, Mou doesn’t live here any more – Mou has moved out and is staying with my mother. Mou would want me to write back and let these kind people know “Mou is no longer at this address” – BUT – I happen to know better than to communicate with spammers. Not that it’s really possible, as they have no real brains there to be communicated with. The light’s on, but nobody’s home.

Limping on from spammers, I took my broken foot to the doctor, worried by friends (and a website) who said that it’s a myth that a broken foot will heal beautifully without expert medical attention. Doc took all of two minutes to look at it and said just to carry on the way I was, because it’s healing. Mum (a retired nurse), who never advocated taking it to doctor, said “tell all your internet friends that mother always knows best!”

Well, I pointed out to Mum that the doc didn’t ask me to wriggle my toes, and he didn’t test the joint of the broken toe, which is where the break is – I think it will be OK; I have asked it myself to flex, and it does, but with a certain amount of pain. But then I told him loudly “THIS is the sore toe” and he knew better than to touch it! He said yes, it was broken, and he could see a sort of crumpled bruising along the ball of the foot, but everything seems to be fine. Carry on healing…

He admired my new suede fleece-lined boots with the pom-poms. They are split down both sides so it’s easy to get the sore foot in, and then you simply bind a suede thong round the leg. He said they looked soft and roomy yet supportive.

Still hirpling – we went to town but my foot got tired after a couple of hours. I bought it a pretty pink and blue sock made from a thick soft silky wool – it’s just for lounging around in. I bought one for the other foot as well so it won’t feel left out! Then I started on my Christmas hopping – er, shopping.

I wonder if Mou would like a laptop?