Mother has just had a text from the chemist to tell her that her prescription is ready. No it isn’t.
If she collected this lot, she would have 5 and a half months worth of tablets in the house. Nearly half a year. More than enough to stock Boots up for a bit. Hell, a fair bit of the NHS Drug budget would be languishing in our drawers.
Now would you take the risk of putting such a large amount of anti depressants in the home of somebody who, by virtue of needing the pills in the first place, is depressed!!!!? No, I hear you cry……
Mother has no intention of taking the pharmaceutical smarties all at once. She’s just retired from her job. If she was seriously going to harm herself, she would have done it when she was still working. And even then it would have been unlikely.
Besides, she’s seen the repercussions of taking too many of these particular pills. They lull you into a false sense of security. You think you’ve got over it, then, a week later, your heart has a habit of stopping. And given the fact that the current policy of our local Big House is to treat you and then send you home before you’ve even changed into your nightie, it’s very unlikely you’ll be attached to a cardiac monitor when this happens.
You’ll be shopping in Aldi.
At least that’d be one thing they couldn’t chuck off the end of the conveyer belt…….
So. By the end of November, we may have Trump and Johnson in charge of some of the biggest political players in the world.
Anyone want to join Mother when she goes to live on the moon?……
Mother is a sad git. She is watching the referendum vote programme. I suspect that the need to sleep will outweigh the desire to wait for the outcome.
I don’t understand what the fuss is about. I have a solution to one of the country’s perceived problems – Immigration….
Build a bloody Great Wall all round the country. If the Chinese can make one, so can we. Then fit it with big, stonking cat flaps. Programme them to recognise microchips. Insert microchips into the entire population, without which you won’t get in (or out for that matter). Forget the need for passports. No sneaking in on the back of a truck. Ain’t got the chip, sod off.
This plan has other benefits. Too drunk to find your way home? You can be scanned and a relative can come and pick you up. That is, as long as they haven’t changed their phone number since the chip was registered……..
Now just got to work out how to fund it……
Have been missing for a bit because I have been poorly bad. Mother noticed that my breath smelled like a latrine. Off to the vets for a teeth check only to discover……
I have a hole in my face. Not the one you stuff food in. Not the one essential for respiration and maintenance of life. Not even the, now useless, ones on the side of my head. There’s a superfluous one in my gob. Which is filled with pus.
Cue antibiotic injection after being grabbed by a woman with gauntlets on (scary) and having the hole probed with a cotton bud by the vetman. Obviously the ‘don’t shove a cotton bud anywhere you wouldn’t be able to plonk your elbow’ rule is lost on him.
Mother now has to clean said hole with salt water for the next couple of weeks until I return for a checkup.
She is desperate to find out how I got this wound. I’m not tellin’
International man of mystery me ………
Today, Mother has attempted to do the final task in her retirement preparation – inform HMRC of the need to remove some of her tax allowances.
Ringing the buggers up has been tried and was a miserable failure. You can never get to speak to anybody.
So, time for the electronic route. Ha, ha, bloody ha-
1. Her existing Government gateway ID no longer works. Cue re-registering.
2. Try logging in using new passcode. System keep reverting to the old one when using the iPad. Use phone to input new code.
3. Get into site. Need passport number. Hunt upstairs, find passport.
4. Need to input date of birth. Cannot do it using phone as ‘/’ isn’t recognised. Get laptop. Log in again.
5. Start completing form. Need proper names of all allowances. Hunt out tax code status. Put appropriate names in. Press save……..
There is a God. 45 minutes after she started on this endeavour, job appears to be done. Or is it?????? Got to wait 15 days for confirmation.
It’s no wonder that people commit tax fraud if being honest is so sodding difficult …….
Mother tells me that BHS is to close. Following Woolworths down the sorry path of retail oblivion.
She is a bit sad really. Over 50 years ago, Grandad (sadly no longer with us) worked there. One day, a very small Mother had a goldfish in a bag which she dropped on the floor outside BHS. Quick as a flash, Grandad plonked the fish into one of those glass things which was used to dispense soap in the comfort facilities. The fish lived longer than any she had ever had before but it did unfortunately live in a self perpetuating bubble bath.
Speaking of goldfish, did anyone else’s mother try to revive a flagging fish by attempting to pour brandy down its throat? Granny regularly did this, it never worked but at least the fish died happy……