Category: My Lovely Man

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A little misunderstanding

We had cause, recently, to spend some time in a hospital emergency area. (All is well).

They were very busy.. We had quite a wait.. I may, or may not have got a bit sassy in my negotiations for assistance.

A nurse popped in and said ‘I’m so sorry that your dad is having to wait so long, we are doing the best we can’

My lovely man didn’t hear her, we left the house in a hurry and his ears were not attached. Not a priority at the time.

I didn’t correct her, yaaay for me and my youthful glow and my lovely man was in pain and not looking his best.

Time passed.. I went looking for help.. Again.

When I came back my lovely man said…. ‘A lady just came in and apologized that she thought you were my doctor, why would she think you were my doctor, must be because you are bossing everyone around’

Love him the most.

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Leave me alone, I’m relaxing

What do you do to relax?

When I hear of people tuning into live feeds of wildlife watering holes, or fat bear week, I don’t feel too bad admitting I like to watch ASMR videos.

Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It’s a thing, I promise.

My lovely man will ask me what I’m doing and I’ve tried to explain… But he don’t get it… So I just say I’m meditating. I’m sure he thinks I’m addicted to porn.

I’ve written a list of things I’d like to do if I ever get to retire. And watching more ASMR is on the list.

I have my favourites that I subscribe to… As you do of course.

Actually it’s something you can experience in real life. For example…. If  you watch people cleaning or dusting… You could experience a very relaxing, tingling sensation.

That’s ASMR.

We have a cleaning lady.. But I am yet to find the courage to ask her if I can sit and stare at her as she’s cleaning the room.

Anyway…. I recently searched for ‘ASMR dusting’ … And came across a gem.

The room that was being cleaned must have been something out of the 1950’s.  Filthy and full of bric a brac.  If someone had asked me to clean it while they videoed me, I would most likely have thrown a match at it and gone home.

But… It was perfect to watch.

She put her marigolds on and got stuck in.

The wooden furniture was so dry, as she sprayed the polish, you could see it sucking the droplets out of the air.

Lampshades that had obviously never been dusted. Marvelous.

And an enormous array of ceramic cocks. Was this a thing in the 50’s? Must have been a special on. Glorious things to watch being dusted.

I’ve just realised I should have used the word rooster.

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That sounds worth having

I am, unfortunately for my wallet, a marketer’s dream.

You’ve heard of influencers? I’m not that. I’m easily influenced.

If someone recommends or gushes about something, I’m compelled to fit it into my world.

My lovely man tries to distract me when he can see on my face I am buying into something someone is mentioning. Actually a gush or a recommendation is not required. Just a casual passing remark will do.

I once bought an enormously expensive thing because a lady I sat next to at the departure lounge stated ‘it has changed my mother’s life’.

That statement will do it.

My latest is home gym equipment. We may, in fact, need a bigger house.

So far, my home gym equipment has not made me in any way fit, but I have no regrets.

Everything I order requires assembling. We are no good at this.

Luckily our neighbour is very handy. He is making a tidy living out of assembling my orders.

He has a cctv camera that views the road.

We have reached the point of…

‘I see you have had a delivery, do you need help’

He has also gently requested..

‘perhaps don’t try and assemble it, it takes me longer to take it apart and start again’

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That sounds worth having

I am, unfortunately for my wallet, a marketer’s dream.

You’ve heard of influencers? I’m not that. I’m easily influenced.

If someone recommends or gushes about something, I’m compelled to fit it into my world.

My lovely man tries to distract me when he can see on my face I am buying into something someone is mentioning. Actually a gush or a recommendation is not required. Just a casual passing remark will do.

I once bought an enormously expensive thing because a lady I sat next to at the departure lounge stated ‘it has changed my mother’s life’.

That statement will do it.

My latest is home gym equipment. We may, in fact, need a bigger house.

So far, my home gym equipment has not made me in any way fit, but I have no regrets.

Everything I order requires assembling. We are no good at this.

Luckily our neighbour is very handy. He is making a tidy living out of assembling my orders.

He has a cctv camera that views the road.

We have reached the point of…

‘I see you have had a delivery, do you need help’

He has also gently requested..

‘perhaps don’t try and assemble it, it takes me longer to take it apart and start again’

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Oh, that’s where it is

Is your lovely man incapable of finding anything? Whilst looking directly at it?

If I, as a potty mouth, has $10 for every curse word I uttered and every time my lovely man couldn’t find the obvious, I could retire.

Do we have soap for the shower the sweet soul asked me some days ago. Yes, I replied, in the cupboard in the spare bathroom.

After some days of bathing vs showering, I opted for a shower, only to find he is washing himself with a transparent shaving of soap.

Please bring me a bar of soap I yelled.

Where do we keep them he yelled back.

Faaaark

An epoch of time passed. The water ran cold, then the world’s water ran out.

I stood there, an unwashed, pissed off prune of a person.

I found them he stated, they were stacked in a pile, I wasn’t expecting that.

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You want me to eat what?

I live with some trepidation of what my lovely man is going to find online. There is no link the man won’t follow.

So recently he started reading about worm farms. Look darling, he advised, we can buy a worm farm and dispose of dog poo into it.

Our lives have reached this level of excitement.

So, of course, I ordered one. They were full of advice as to how many boxes of worms to order with it in proportion to the quantity and size of your dogs.

I asked if cat poo could be put in too. Nobody knows.

The poor things arrived.

I wondered if they had been trained, or at least briefed, of their diet from hereon. Are they a special type of worm I pondered. Masochists? I certainly feel like a sadist.

So now we have to gather up the dog poo and mix it in (with complicated ratios of hay and soil and kitchen waste), and feed it to these poor souls.

As it turns out, most of the pooing is done on the pup walk, so it’s great fun picking that up and bringing it home.

I’m not sure the worms are grateful.

Kitchen waste is leftover fresh fruit, veg and salad we are advised. Not a lot of it in this house, so they get my wine soaked strawberries.

Our worm farm came with instructions and at the bottom of the pamphlet, we were advised that there is a risk of the worms migrating if conditions are not suitable.

We are feeding them dog poo! The conditions are entirely unsuitable.

I fully expect to soon see a line of worms with their hats and backpacks, trundling off to greener pastures.

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Is that tar?

I accompanied my lovely man to the barber again recently.

I left him to go in and popped into the nearby chemist first. For cold sore cream. I explained that it wasn’t for me, because I don’t get cold sores, and the lady helpfully commented that I must be the ‘giver’. The cold sore giver.

I’m sure she’s wrong.. But… Full disclosure.

The fellow at the barber shop was delighted when I walked in. Immediately gesturing that he could sort out my fluffy face one time. I stopped him in his tracks with ‘the look’.

There’s not a lot of English spoken at my lovely man’s barber shop. Nor is there a lot of explanation as to the the happenings.

Darling… My lovely man called out in mild panic, why are they putting tar on my ears? And why have I got earbuds in my nose?

Oh, I said, they must be waxing your hairy bits, brace yourself.

Darling… He cried out again, what’s happening, why are they laying me back now?

Don’t worry, I said, I don’t think they are going to waterboard you.

We’ve been watching Ozark, so this reassurance seemed necessary.

What they were doing was threading his eyebrows. My lovely man will no longer be on the list to play Santa after all this exceptional grooming.

The fellow did look longingly at my fluffy face again, imagining the good work he could do with that thread. Another look was necessary.

Is this what they do with beavers my lovely man enquired loudly. I’m not sure I replied, but they’ll probably put it on their list of services now that you’ve raised the idea.

I felt that my lovely man’s yelps of pain and cussing were a bit unnecessary, but the results were exceptional.

So much so, they felt compelled to show everyone in the shop the hair removal.

Photo to accompany Google review.

My lovely man has a bit of an attitude about repeating the experience.

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Show me where it hurts

In an effort to improve my fitness levels I have injured myself.

In the buttock sadly.

I’ve pulled a muscle in my bum I informed my lovely man.

How he asked.

Must be from my exercise regime I informed him. Obvs.

It’s extraordinary that you’ve hurt yourself considering your mild routine he commented.

And usually, he continued, oblivious to the hole he was digging, if someone pulls a muscle, they know about it immediately, when and how did your injury happen?

I explained, a bit frostily, that letting yourself go is a very gradual thing. Over many epochs really. As is building oneself up again.

So, now I have to pay a professional to tend to my buttock.

There was a time, that massaging my buttock was an offered service.

That ship, it appears, has sailed. And here we find ourselves.

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I’ll take those

Some years ago I was imploring my lovely man to please instill systems to keep himself organised.

He answered me at the time that he has a flawless system, he waits for me to tell him what to do and he does it.

Now…. I know what you are thinking… ‘she sounds bossy’

But! You’d be right.

One of the things my lovely man is instructed to do is to take his (many) pills twice a day. These I carefully organise for him every 28 days and put them out morning and night.

I know what you are thinking… he’s more than capable of doing this himself surely.

Bear with.

He is in charge of organsing our glass of water for our respective bedside tables at night.

I noticed that I only had half a glass and queried it. Well, he said, my pills were there, so I just used that water and took them.

I looked across at his side and yes… there were his pills and his full glass of water. I pointed.

OK, he said, I must take my pills.

So…. now his hormones are all nicely balanced and I’m bossy AND ratty.

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It’s an emergency

My lovely man is big on health and safety. Big.

So, he was delighted when a worker injured his eye while helping us with something at the house the other day.

He could launch into action. My lovely man’s launching into action immediately involves me.

The fellow had hurt his eye.

Rosie, we have an IoD he yelled, bring the first aid kit.

It’s also necessary, it seems, to break into code.

Where’s the H&S SOP file he continued.

What? Rousing myself from the depths of an email.

We have an injury on duty he said somewhat impatiently, where is our standard operating procedure file for health and safety? And get the first aid kit.

I have a cotton swab, some bicarb and eyedrops I offered. There is no file.

He sighed… Obviously hoping I was in a position to perform surgery.

My lovely man’s biggest thing is ladder safety.

There was no ladder in this situation, but it didn’t stop him giving the fellow with the weeping, injured eye the lecture anyway.

If the man ever regains his sight, he will know it’s imperative to have someone hold the ladder. Oh, and never be without eye goggles.