Air lock in the water bed again

We have an airlock .
Its a complete mystery to me how a water bed can fill up with air not three weeks since we last " bled" the air out of it and filled it full of hot water again .
And what a carry on that proved to be ....The hose has to be dragged up from the yard ( cleaned first ) , the nozzle attachement located next ( a half day job , not mine I hasten to add ) , the bed itself stripped , and wait for it , the cats removed ( and kept out of the room , no mean feat when a hose has to run from bedroom to bathroom along the upper landing ).
I remember it well .
I had a funny feeling about that event and sat it out downstairs until my presence was requested .
By the time I was called up D was hopping from room to room as cats watched in fury at being ousted from the warmth of their own personal heated bed , trying to gain entry each time he opened the door .
The bathroom was in a state of some disarray , the basin taps having a hose attachment in their general vicinity , applied with the aid of several elastic bands ( post office issue ) and squirting water up the mosaic mirrors , across the " I can see myself in the roll top bath if I wish to mirror " in a generous fountain , anywhere in fact but down the hose and along the pipe and into the water bed outlet . The Ikea bathmat was drenched and several of the towels had seen better days .

I survey the scene and remind him the taps configuration didn't look like this last time . ( talk about stating the bleedin' obvious )

Suffice to say after a certain amount of pressure is applied to the taps and attachments ( rather than my neck ) the problem is remedied and a vast quantity of hot water is relayed to the bed . Always a tricky moment working out whether the hose will deliver the water onto or into the mattress ....... ?? By now all attempts to keep cats out is at an end and there is an audience of four ..... cute faces with whiskers all watching intently , the ocasional squabble breaking out over who gets closest to the action .
An equally large amount of air is pumped out .

And with this in mind I find it hard to understand where this new air has arrived from , though I have my theories , relating to nocturnal male flatulence , which are heartily rejected .

It is the cougar all over again .
When travelling to Kirkharle in search of Kendal Mint Cake for Amelia , my stepdaughter,
this afternoon a creature stepped onto the road and I became convinced it was a cougar ( or a lynx possibly ) but D simply gave me a suspicious glance when I mentioned this . He often does not know how to take me . I suppose it could have been a rabbit .

Flatulence aside however , male , female or feline , it is a mystery how a bed which was completely bled of air suddenly fills up again and sprouts visible rugby balls at various points , causing the bed to splosh alarmingly during the night even when a small cat lands or takes off .

No wonder my dreams are so full of this and that and even in my waking hours I can honestly say nothing seems to make much sense .
Maybe I have an air lock in my brain ?

"Tit for tat Tesco bulldozer case "

Reported in today's Times :
A woman in Kirkby, Knowsley , has submitted a planning application to knock down the home of Sir Terry Leahy, the head of Tesco , because his firm wants to bulldoze her house to make way for a supermarket. Dot Reid, 58, paid £265 to submit the plan to demolish his mansion in Hertfordshire.

This made me laugh out loud .What's the right thing to say here ? You go , Dot Reid !

dreams and wierd texts

Funny how the mind stores information for years and years and then shots it out in a flash in a dream when least expected .
Greyhound Alice likes to get me up at six these days and this morning it was six and six ten and then six thirty . Her tummy gurgles and bubbles and she can't re settle on the sofa under even the softest fleece until she 's had breakfast some days , so I oblige , go back to bed , read The Cat Sanctuary By Patrick Gale for a bit tussling with Kitty all the while and then Toby edges his way in cautiously and we all fall back to sleep for an hour . These are when my strangest dreams emerge , and the times when I often wish I'd stayed awake ....

My Grandma and Grandad had a farm from when I was born until they retired from farming when I was 11 or 12 . In those years we would visit the farm every weekend and often during school holidays me and my sister would stay there as well . Since they left in 1970 then I've not stayed there again though I've visited and walked past . But that's almost forty years gone by . My dream was clear as if I was there yesterday , at the farm , but not with my grandparents , who are dead these last fourteen or fifteen years . I am walking out of the farm track with D , berating him for over feeding Alice , who is looking more like a fat labrador than a greyhound ( in the dream ) , dragging her stomach on the ground, ( and probably representing myself in the not too distant future ? ) .
The steep cliff face in front of us has been changed beyond all recognition , landscaped and terraced and is completely taken up with tents , people camping one above the other . Closer inspection shows the tents are semi see through , all are full of sleeping bags with people sleeping and some just rising . Beside each tent is a cage . Some of the cages hold kittens , beautiful white Birmans , chinchillas , guinea pigs , baby rabbits , all kinds of soft furry pets , all loooking happy and well cared for , camping on the steep hillside . In one cage alongside a small hopping white baby rabbit with flop ears , is a small child , crouched to fit the cage . I turn to look at D , knowing this is something we need to investigate .
Something furry from one of the cages reaches out and touches my face . I shiver and wake . It is Toby , pawing my face , claws retracted .
I feel wierd .


Yesterday I have migraine so I up the dose of topamax as suggested by the consultant . Its all an experiment to find the does that suits me . I found a dose last year which wiped out the migraines but which seemed to adversely affect me in aother ways . But I cannot go on like this .

Yesterday's appointments have been shunted forwards onto today . My friend D and I are planning some work together and she is due to arrive at 2 pm . At 1 I receive the following enigmatic text from her , texting not being her strong suit :

"Going to be 2 30 pm as have just got of session and gay door waxing advice as neighbour bitten by dog . D "

Whats the wierdest text you ever got ?

Mutiny at the Make up Counter

After the bi annual foray to the Bobbi Brown counter on Saturday I can feel another trip there building up and after some slight hesitation which soon wears off as I sit self-talking whilst gobbling a Pret yoghurt ( oh dear Greek style with granola and some sort of berries , let's hope Laura is not reading this ) I head back there intent on making a purchase .

The luminous liquid foundation in sand ( probably , though not categorically as I have omitted to check the card the make up artist kindly provided me for just such future purchases ) .

I am attended by a different "artist" ( though not aware that this was their status ) this time , who suggests she check my colour again as she was unable to locate " my card " .
This involves my sitting on a swivel chair and having a light shone on me , my old make up , what was left of it , removed ( although come to think of it there would have been mighty little left after the walk on the beach , the swim with Nat , walk to the vets in the hailstones etc etc ), and three stripes of different colours applied to my chin region . She then steps well back and looks hard . And looks again , and grimaces and frowns and makes me turn sideways . ( Oh no not my face in profile ... ) .
What I had assumed would be a two minute task was turning into a longer haul and I could see she was not happy as she came closer , insisting I look in the mirror and compare the three stripes for myself .
I might as well have been colour blind for all the differences I can see but I agree when she tells me categorically the Warm Beige is all wrong and it is between the sand and the warm sand but that she personally herself had an inkling that sand was wrong and warm sand was going to be right .
More staring . I stared . It didn't help . It didn't help me anyway .
In the highly reflective glass I simply made a mental note that Nat would have had a fit if she had known I had come out without making sure I had de fuzzed . Nat and facial hair , mine in particular , do not mix.
A younger , very glamorous artist appears and my woman asks her for a minute of her attention .
Ms Glam was in pursuit of a cosmetic tool of her own but steps back , glances at my three stripes and says without any hesitation " Its clear . Warm Beige. "
My Woman turns Warm Red and they consult , about red tones , warm tones , sand beige , matching at the edge as opposed to the other edge ( I know ) and there is pointing at my red cheeks . And reference to Redness again . They are both Redder than I am .

Warm Beige it is . Ms Glam is right and my woman explains why this is so . I am not bothered what shade of foundation I take home so long as I get the Luminous make up which had given me such a healthy glow on Saturday and which is really what I have come back for .

Warm Beige then ? Luminous ? says my woman . We are speaking the same language . I am happy , she is happy .
She heads for the drawer containing the bottles . Ms Glam' s head swivels . She is back on the case . Luminous ? She comes closer again and peers at my face . She is really very pretty and her skin is perfect . She pinches my skin carefully and asks what my skin type is. She advises me that although of course I can take away luminous if I wish , it is moisture rich which is right for me . Luminous is designed for the older lady skin type , my skin being supple and containing sufficient collagen not to need it . I am in anguish . I want the luminous .

There is more debate . My woman explains I have made a special trip for the luminous after being particularly impressed with it . That I in fact already have moisture rich at home . Blah Blah . I look at my watch . I am already ten minutes over my parking limit . They agree to make up one half of my face in moisture rich and one in luminous . They work very fast . I feel like I am a house design project coming in ten pounds over budget . A man across the way on perfumes waiting for something watches with interest .
I know I am not going anywhere without Luminous . My woman knows it too . To cut a long story short , my woman pats me in a congratulatory manner on my arm as she places my purchases in my bag , and Ms Glam concedes the Bobbi customer is always ( almost ) right but adding that it is the light reflecting that I am liking and that it is not the Bobbi look and she herself can see the make up sitting on my face . So be it .

I drive home peering in the mirror at the two halves of my face comparing notes and smiling at myself . What else to do ?

Look! look! Snow at the seaside....

Brilliantly sunny day but couldn't let the fact that we had snow yesterday that lay in a thick blanket in the garden go unremarked . And the dove pottering about looking for the seed which the bird feeders had spilled ....

Today was sunny and masquerading as Spring all over again so I cadged a lift to Hexham with D who had work appointments in Haydon Bridge beyond , giving me the opportunity to poke around the old jewellery shops as well as stock up on some health type food essentials I knew I needed from Laura's recent visit .

Having perused the contents of my fridge and listened to my tales of dodgy stomach she declared my recent obsession with Greek style yoghurt with honey ( Onken ) as potentially at the root of my problem ( far too high in fat apparently ) . And there was me thinking I was eating healthily .

Snorting silently at my notion of a colonic irrigation being an idea worth contemplating ( I was only at the pre contemplation stage here , I hasten to add ) she turned up on Saturday morning and unpacked a variety of items which she insisted I at least try once . For years I have resisted these little pots of chalky milky drinks with the chemical names. Who could want to swallow benecol , or actimel I ask you particularly having seen the adverts with the young women with bubbles in their stomachs and green looks on their faces ? Not me for sure! Give me a greek style honey blah blah any day . As she pushed aside the various desserts and fat filled pots of goodness knows what favoured by D who has largely taken over the shopping these days , making room for her Tesco lifestyle fat free blueberry pre and probiotic something or other youghurt drink I felt my heart sink . I knew that before the day was out I was going to have to overcome my horror of these little devils and swallow one whole . Not even the adorable little jar of cashew nut butter could raise my spirits and her " Am I sensing a lack of enthusiasm for my healthy snacks " just made me grimace .

But dear readers , I did my bit , putting the best face on it I could and here we are today I'm purchasing my own eightpack in Waitrose . What with them and the box of lemongrass/limeflower detox morning tea I should be fizzing . Or rather I should be fizzing no more , just quietly ticking over .

We shall see.

Today my mind is on food .

The sky is blue black with snow still to come , the yard was white this morning and massive square white flakes falling at six am when Alice needed to go out . She rings her bell and sits at the top of the stairs waiting for me to collect myself and drag on a robe and negociate a wet patch where Pearl had knocked over a bottle of water which had parted company from its top , and a sausage shaped furball neatly placed where-my-feet-would-land had some sixth sense not warned me of this Monday monring Thing lurking palely by the bed . The cats grimace as I leave , any departure from the bed causing a shift in the waterlevel disturbing a tenuous equilibrium as one cat rolls unintentionally closer to another .

Toby and Jess are too close and start a spitting contest down at the foot of the bed . As they fire up Jess reminds me of an engine turning over half heartedly and Toby stares in disgust . Pathetic! He turns over and falls asleep shifting his position slightly to concede either her stronger position or ( more likely ) his Not Bothering state of mind . Perhaps he too has noted the snow .

Alice is full of herself in greyhound fashion , stretching elegantly and then hurrying to the back door . She trots out ready to head for the far gate where she likes to squat just out of sight ( dignity being her thing ) then feeling the snow underfoot puts the brakes on sharply and heads back indoors pressing up against me . I advise her accordingly and attempt to send her out again but there is a battle of wills which finally results in my having to recall all I ever learned about dealing with toddlers ( restate your case very simply over and over until you get what you want , dont enter into debate ) , with me stating " Alice , go out and do a wee " and Alice looking appealingly back towards the sitting room doubtless thinking What ? youre joking ? Go back out in that when I could park myself on the pale blue / grey carpet and be done in seconds in the warm , no one hurt in the process ? Hey I'd even get that odour free stain resist pet deterrant carpet clean spray out myself if it saved my toes the agony of stepping out in this .....

What can I tell you ? I won the battle people ....she finally gave way and trotted off and did her stuff and sneezed loudly in embarrasment on her return .

And I went back to bed and finished my Patrick Gale A Subtle Obscurity or was it a Sweet Obscurity . Anyway , it was good and its still snowing and Nat is on hols and we are on track for the gym or a swim or some healthy thing and all I can think about is lattes and cakes done up in fancy papers .

I saw an angel

and a cockerpoo yesterday . The cockerpoo was parked up outside the fish and chip shop and our attention was drawn because of the missing Josh Schnauser dog who was also tied up . We worried as we saw the man tying up the little skipping white dog , then as we watched and reassured ourselves that in fact he could see the dog from his place in the queue , and in fact was making hand signals to it imploring it to behave , we realised it was Nat' s maths teacher . Irritating I guess to be a teacher and unable to buy a pie and chips without having your every move watched and your skills as a dog trainer assessed ( we were impressed , though amused at the way the dog re started its skipping the minute his back was turned ).
The angel manifested at four am , in the bathroom mosaic mirror , and stood out clear and white against the tiles . I thought of fetching the camera , but .... somehow it seemed a sacrilege .

At 7 30 am my sister arrived and we went to town for our bi annual pilgrimage to the Bobbi Brown counter . Upon our return I received numerous e mails informing me that Michael White ( narrative therapist ) died early in the morning .