Monday, 2 February 2026

What a sh*t morning

 I open my emails first thing.  Today I had one from the Probate office, informing me that Keith's case would be made dormant as certain documents were missing.  This put me into panic mode - I am not good with anything to do with legal documents  and then I jumped to conclusions over a proof of postage on what I assumed were the documents in question (and which had no delivery confirmation on the tracking). Anyway, I spent the entire morning trying to sort it out (with Tam offering advice).  Tam has helped me and we will deal with it tomorrow.



I bought myself a cheer-me-up treat for lunch - one of the mouth-watering patisserie tarts that I drool over when I look in the Bakery window (or go in the shop for a nice loaf of bread now and again).  Today I thought, I blardy deserve one.  It had huge raspberries, a strawberry sliced and manderin oranges under a lovely gel glaze.   It was worth every penny of what I paid for it.

I have chased up my heating oil, reeled from the bill for servicing the central heating boiler (incl. one replacement part), and remembered to get fresh filters for the UV water system and some money for the float for the weekend.  The way things are going, that is likely to be a total drain on my resources, and not a way of mending them a bit.

I had one thing to look forward to, which was a trip to the wool shop in Llandod, to choose some yarn for Elderberry Bunny's dress.  I chose a pretty multi-colour one and have knitted the first 15 or so rows, which included learning a new-to-me stitch - one row only of that.  

I probably won't sleep well tonight though, as I am still all-wound-up from this morning - when I was fighting off a panic attack.  This is when I hate being on my own most.  I haven't got Keith here to tell me not to be so blardy silly or offer sound advice.  He always dealt with anything legal because he had the brain for it and I don't.  Yes, I know in the long run that's not a good idea because the surviving spouse gets stuck when the good-with-it person dies.  The same applies to anything to do with wiring, chopping down trees, anything mechanical and even an extra person to steady a ladder.  Finances too - his money was my money was his money, so to speak.  I paid certain things, he paid others.  If I was short (he had two pensions), he would let me have money to level things up.  Needless to say, I only have 1/3 of the money coming in that I used to so balancing the books is blardy difficult.  

I am having one last go-away holiday (to Copenhagen) and after that it will be a few days away in this country.

And hey, things could be worse.  I haven't driven my car full pelt into 3 feet of floodwater and then wonder how I came to kill the engine (plenty of online footage of idiots doing just that) and I have just read about a young man in France who had to have an operation and was found to have a live WWI shell removed from his backside.  They had to evacuate the whole hospital and call in the Bomb Squad to deal with it!  Blardy hell - I bet they had words with him when he came round from the op!