Colds Days, Brownhills and Newts

How Now Blogerooneys?

It’s been a mixed few days in Mark Mansions….It’s been damn cold out so I haven’t been out much….but if I don’t go out the stuff doesn’t lift from my lungs and I end up up all night hacking my guts up…..vicious circle…

Valentine’s Day was ONE YEAR since I went for my transplant assessment. I went onto the list in March and they told me there was an average wait of three months…ho hum.

There again if one of the false alarms in May or July (where the op was cancelled at the last minute) had gone ahead they wouldn’t have been too far out…

One has to be philosophical and think……they are just waiting for the perfect lungs for my body so I will be perfect and ready to surf and mountain bike again….

But one does lie awake in bed thinking if it will ever come....that chance to be normal again...to not be looked at with pitying glances in Sainsbury's, to work again......I can't understand people not wanting to work! How bored must they get?

I went for a blood test on Tuesday (doctors waiting room full of disease and snotty kids) so thought I would cheer myself up with a visit to the erm..lovingly named Brownhills Market….the site of so many bargains in my youth. I haven’t got that much bigger so it must have shrunk!

All the Sikhs in big jumpers selling jeans seemed to have found other employment…or a more profitable market…It’s half-term, but even the munchkins and rug-rats seemed to stay away. I did get some stuff but for legal reasons cannot say what….

Talking of which I got invited to Mrs P’s house as I was wandering between coffee stands….but her son pooed himself so I was promptly uninvited because she couldn’t get rid of the smell….luuuvvverly image eh?!

The terrible winds blew the gate down at the end of the garden…It’s a fake one that makes it look as though we own the wasteland the other side too. Shhhh don’t tell!

I have been pottering about on the newly-tuned piano….trying out some Beatles and Kinks stuff tonight….all good fun until a note sticks and the momentum disappears…I bet Elton never had this problem!

My French friend Miss N came round on Wednesday….We gossiped about old times..We climbed Ben Nevis together and youth hosteled around Scotland…way back when….We were trying to put years on the memories….was that 96 or 97??? It’s a struggle! We also have a mad mutual friend who happens to be an ex of mine…

In the real world: Ken Livingstone has really put his foot in it hasn’t he….He insults a Jewish journo, claims it was the paper he was insulting (but that didn’t stop Red Ken pocketing £30,000 in two years ‘writing’ ahem ‘food reviews’ for said publication in two years, according to The Times.)

How come only celebrities get that sort of money for doing so little when they need the cash least….The poor reporters on that paper probably work full time for less than £18,000 a year and that included death knocks, unsociable hours and working bank holidays. I know because I have done it!!!

The man keeps lizards though? How much love can you get from a lizard (don’t answer!) so he is probably feeling the strain! BLOKE AT PUB: Why do you call your pet Tiny, Mr Livingstone…?” Ken: “Because it’s my newt”…groan at leisure!!!!

Music: Ian Brown, Green Day