18 Apr 2011

Hestia...has a date ;-)

Who's your dreamy doctor?
The letter from the hospital has arrived. I am to be parted from my gall bladder forever on Thursday 12 May.  Of course, Tartarus will be deep in the bowels of his Mexican engine room at that point and so....ladies and gentlemen.....my mother and not-my-boyfriend-Ron will be looking after me and Sonshine until I'm back on my feet.

Hide the kitchen knives! :-)

I have also been out photographing the fly-tipped rubbish in my neighbour's garden again - a washing machine, two sofas, a TV and the remnants of a sofa bed and coffee table.  I was so blisteringly angry, I uploaded the photos to Facebook and erm, posted an e-mail to our local paper and they have agreed to do an article on fly-tipping on the island.

My immediate flush of relief that someone was going to help me with this ongoing problem immediately withered into concern that my neighbour (on whose ground the stuff has been dumped) might think I'm having a pop at him.  Which I'm not.  Not at all.  Why should HE (or WE) pay for all this crap to get uplifted by the Council when someone else has shucked off their responsibilities by dumping it?

Yesterday when I was photographing everything that had been dumped, two boys were battering the living daylights out of the washing machine with a big branch. The kids were very pleasant, it has to be said, but they were still bent on getting into the workings of the washing machine - which could have been dangerous (I have NO idea what's in a washing machine).  Anyway, I went back inside to upload the photos.

Ten minutes later, the banging took on a new tone - one of over-excited we've-nearly-done-it-now-just-a-little-bit-harder.......  I hate the sound of things being broken.  It makes me really anxious and eventually when I could stand it no longer, I decided to ask them to stop.  I looked over the wall.  Guess who was battering into the washing machine with gusto? Sonshine.

'For God's sakes, Sonshine, what the HELL are you doing?' I gasped.

He pointed at the washing machine 'we're trying to see how it works.  We'll tidy up afterwards, honestly.'

How you tidy up fly-tipping, I don't know, but I decided that working in the  back garden was not going to be relaxing, so I set about raking the living daylights out of the moss out of the front lawn.  Two blisters and a can of cider later....you would not have known I'd done ANYTHING to the grass.

So what else can I update you on? Tartarus goes away tomorrow and I head off to Glasgow to go to a gig.  Yes, a GIG.  Paul Rogers.  With B and C and some other people that I haven't seen since 1983.  God, will we have changed much? Will we still have things in common? Will my gallstones protest at the whole Going Out With Friends experience?


  1. Fly-tipping is awful, and you're right to try and put a stop to it. The boys could really hurt themselves too. You need a motion sensitive camera in the bushes to get numberplates!

    Glad you've got a date with a hot doc - my mum had this op a few years back, but I don't remember the staff looking quite like that..... more like Carry On Matron :) LOL

  2. Sounds like you'll have lots of incentive to get better quick, and lots of time to blog too. Sorry I keep missing your posts, off doing stuff and need a good catch up - and re the bedside cabinet, I couldn't possibly say on a blog, but everything is in the drawer not on top, and the Kindle underneath, most embarassing item is gumshield to prevent teeth grinding!

  3. well at least you've got the date and better out than in........a time to plot a slow death for the fly tippers!!

  4. 12 May?

    I'll put the date in my Diary.

    Are you going to ask for the offending organ as a souvenir?

    Don't forget to take a small glass jar along with you.

    What interesting conversations that could start. or stop dead.

    Don't look on it as losing your gall-bladder, look on it as getting lots of time to write posts, and you could tell us of all the interesting disasters you encounter in the weird and wacky world of the NHS.

    Plus you could sit at your window while recuperating, and use a camera to catch the fly-tippers.

  5. Oh yuck....to the gall-bladder and the fly-tipping. McDreamy would always work for me...but then, the gorgeous doctors always trollop along when one's at one's worst... the ones that did my emergecny C-Section were just DEgorgeous!

  6. "the ones that did my emergecny C-Section were just DEgorgeous!"

    Lucky you.

    The one that did my prostate exam had rather big fingers. And a ragnail.

    *shudder, drink more whisky in a vain attempt to forget*

  7. Am glad you are going to be mended, if you need any help at all whilst on the mainland, just shout!

    Fly tipping is dreadful - and bloody lazy. When you consider that A) there are dumps everywhere in Scotland and B)the council do free pick ups, it's just not ok.

    I would be raging if I were you (or your neighbour).

  8. Dearest Ali, I agree fly tipping is just lazy! I would go mad if someone dumped stuff in my garden.

    I'm glad you've got a date. I'd hide in the bedroom with the laptop and leave your mum to it if I were you! xx

  9. What the fuck is fly-tipping? Help a damn Yank out, would you, and explain. I feel so left out.



  10. SB: Fly-tipping is tipping on the fly.

    Tipping is dumping unwanted rubbish, normally large items like beds.
    On the fly is doing it whilst trying not to be seen or identified, because you're not using a legal dumping site.

    Always ready to help our Yankee friends.

    Like the name by the way.

  11. TwistedScottishBastard,
    Thanks much for the translation, brother. I like your name, as well.




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