To jump or not

At last the sun came out today and I spent a few hours outside tidying up the garden while builders worked on a house near by. Their voices carried across in the still air... one was talking about his proposed holiday at Easter, while one was singing along to the radio. One looked across at me, stared for a while and carried on working. Perhaps he could see my black eye from where he was standing on some scaffolding. Who cares?

Pebble sat at the open window gazing out, very interested in the birds, but too timid to actually jump out. For a wild cat he definitely likes to stay indoors. He and Banjo are currently in the throes of sorting out the hierarchy, so they fight at every opportunity, staring each other down, as cats do. I haven't a clue who is winning, but when the fighting becomes too violent, I step in, sending them running in opposite directions, just to let them know that I am at the top of the hierarchy in this household.

Hectic weekend coming up; stitches out at the Dentist in Oxford on Saturday, daughter number two staying the weekend and daughter number three calling in for lunch, along with her two boys. Hopefully, between us, we can mend the dishwasher with the plunger I've just bought.

No men on the dating horizon... I think all prospects have dried up... literally. Oh well, at least I tried. As for meeting someone face to face... they would really have to like purple, black and brown, especially around the eyes.

When I stood next to Niagra Falls, the torrent of water gushing over the falls just a few feet away, mesmerised me and drew me nearer and nearer; hypnotically pulling me closer to the edge. I was not alone... other people including my lovely man said the same... there was something about the pull of the water that took away rational thought.

Today I felt much better and proudly looked people in the eye as they gazed at my black eye as I shopped in the local market town of Witney. The bruising is turning nicely black, and before long will diminish to a yellowy brown. The pain has subsided and I now feel human again. This must be how it feels to have cosmetic surgery I suppose! No matter how awlful I look and feel, my cats love me, and I them.

As for the dating site... advice to anyone thinking of trying it... don't!! Perhaps it's me... or perhaps the type of man I'm looking for is not on any dating website... or perhaps my photo and profile attracts a certain type of man who has no finesse, and jumps straight into the personal or sexual type of dialogue. Or, perhaps the problem is me... perhaps I'm just too picky. Or, maybe, it's the age range... older men may be too set in their ways and still have the neanderthal approach to chat-up lines. As a friend said to me recently... why not try for someone younger? Now, I ask myself, why on earth would a younger man be in the least interested in me when there are so many gorgeous young women around? Unless, I suppose, they thought I had pots of money! And, just supposing I managed to attract a younger man, what on earth would I do with him? Hmmm, I could think of something!

Just like Niagra, the dating site pulled me in and took away rational thought. I have just deleted a 'wink' from a very short sixty-something man who keeps lots of dogs who 'could show me a good time'. Is it me? I'm tempted to post a photo of me, complete with a black eye... that should put them off.

Bleak goings on

Today I intended to photograph some snowdrops or crocuses to cheer myself up on this, the most depressing day of the year, (according to The Daily Mail). Not a crocus or snowdrop in sight - just some unassuming House Leeks that are placed outside the front door to ward off evil (some say).

In just one week since my last post, I have decorated the large sitting room; battling with the ceiling and getting myself and Pebble covered in paint, and eventually painting the walls in 'Egyptian Sand', of which a little blob seems to be permanently on Pebble's nose. I ached from head to toe from moving furniture in and out of rooms and continually stepping up and down on chairs. I washed two sets of lined curtains; supposedly washable, but which have in fact shrunk to be 3 inches shorter!

The dishwasher has ceased to pump out water... (annoying as it's hardly been used), and so I've
been ladeling out water using a plastic cup, tea-towels and attempting to suck out the outlet pump with the 'crevice nozzle' of my vacuum cleaner, (with electrics switched off). It will no doubt cost me 'an arm and a leg' to get mended.

The week ended with a visit with daughter number one, down to the south coast to see daughters two and four and baby Fin and all have lunch together - another milestone in family entente cordial! Then just to ensure I exhausted myself to the limit; I had a tooth removed late on Saturday in order for some fancy bridgework to commence. The tooth broke off, stitches abound and I now have a black eye and puffy cheeks, resulting in getting some peculiar looks from the village shop as I walked in on the bleakest, darkest day of the year, wearing dark glasses and no smile.

It can only get better from here...