Thinking and Remembering?
This meme really added to the confusion in my head. I have been struggling with memories of how I was, compared to how I am now, and not enjoying the process.
Trying to be sensible, I do know that my life will never be the same again, and most of the time, that is a blessing. I shouldn’t be comparing anything until we really know what’s going on. If and when that happens, that is.
On a lighter note, I remembered something that happened last year. Something I would be delighted not to have to do again…
July 2024
Most weeks in our house are usually a mishmash of incidents, some good and a few of the other kind. But whatever happens, there is never a dull moment around here!
This past week has excelled itself, hurtling from one mini-disaster to another. At one point, I contemplated staying in bed, just to break the cycle, but as I am the nosiest person for miles, I couldn’t bear to think of anything happening without me. Seeing as I was born with a sword in one hand and a cleaning mop in the other, I could usually cope with anything!
It all started to go wrong when we spotted a fantastic bargain in our local charity shop, a two-seater couch in black leather. It was in perfect condition and at a price that wouldn’t bring our bank account to its knees. So, without thinking things through, we bought it to be delivered the following day.
But what to do with the dilapidated, broken-down couch in our living room?
The local council have a collection service, so all we had to do was get it out of the house. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? In case you were wondering, it definitely wasn’t.
We are both in our 70’s and not the fittest people on the block, but we were determined. We would do this, even if it meant dragging the couch out of the house in pieces. A not-so-small nightmare later, two broken and bad-tempered women sat on the old couch in the front garden, swearing never again. We didn’t understand why it had been so difficult; it was a two-seater. We clearly remembered the day years before when it was first delivered, so either the couch had grown, or the house had shrunk.
The next day, tempers and difficulty were forgotten, the new couch was delivered, and peace reigned once more. How I wish the story ended there.
At this point in the story, I can blame Anita for what happened next. She had seen (and fallen in love with) another couch in the charity shop, which she assured me, would be far more comfortable than our old three-seater. You couldn’t make up what happened next.
To cut a long and painful story short, we bought the three-seater and managed to drag the old one out. Slightly easier this time as it could be dismantled. Shame it was so bloody heavy though!
Shortly after the new three-seater was delivered, it became obvious that the blessed thing wasn’t comfortable at all and had to go. By this time, we were exhausted, unhappy and tempers were flaring. Again!
After three days of juggling large, heavy and unresponsive pieces of furniture, I have banned the word ‘couch’ from ever being spoken of in my hearing again. The furniture we have will just have to last, for there is no way I am going to lift anything heavier than the kettle for the foreseeable future!
Maybe I shouldn’t have said those last few words, for that is my truth now, for a while longer at least…
Love from Jaye 
