Silliness (again)

Last year when the smaller portion had just been released from hospital and was refusing to eat I resorted to silliness to encourage/bully him into it.  On that occasion I featured the blow-up penguin who lives in our en suite. 

However, the penguin is not the only blow-up beastie who shares our home.  Lurking on top of the book case just inside the front door lives a leopard.

I cannot help thinking that he is in a prime position to menace guests, or unwary inmates.  In support of my theory, some hours after I took his photo this morning he leapt from the book case and landed on the skinny one's sister.  She was neither hurt nor frightened.  Not a successful ambush at all. 

This made it very clear that when the smaller portion gets home from hospital if he behaves badly it will have to be the penguin again.  That leopard is simply too friendly. 

I am a little bit ashamed to say that while visiting him in hospital I have been indulging in a little theft.

Each visit (and I go in twice a day) I liberate a few clinical waste bags.

They are ideal for using while detruffelating the kitty litter trays.   In the home they are known as toxic waste bags, and they make an upleasant daily chore easier and more amusing.  Small things for small minds.

More Silliness

This post is in response to comments made by  daisyfae, dinahmow and Strayer on a recent post.   I had posted photos of the blow-up penguin who lives in our en-suite, noting that silliness is often something I rely on to get me through difficult times.  The helpful commentators mentioned above thought that this penguin should have a more active role to play in our life.

Strayer asked if I talk to the penguin.  Well yes I do, but I also talk to myself, the cats and I mutter things at inanimate objects around the house.

Daisyfae thought that it would be a good idea to dress the penguin up and invite him to dinner.  He (I am certain that he is male) thinks that the outfit he is wearing is quite dressy enough.

Dinahmow saw daisyfae and raised her by suggesting that the penguin should come to the first meal at which the smaller portion ate a proper portion.  She also well nigh insisted that I took photos and blogged about it.

And here we are.  The penguin is too big to sit at the table - and the smaller portion prefers eating off his lap at the moment but the penguin loomed in a most satisfactory way.

And the smaller portion ate all his dinner.  Including the carrots (which should not be part of his diet at the moment) which he and his sister colluded about adding to his plate.

A little silliness

My eldest brother (who is incorrigibly serious) finds me too frivolous.  He may be right.  Just the same after weeks like the last couple it is almost always inspired silliness which keeps me going.

The smaller portion gave me this a number of years ago.

He lives in our en-suite and reminds me of this.

Another thing which often helps is the serenity of the evening sky as another day draws to a close.

The last few weeks have been very difficult.  However, the smaller portion is now eating on a reasonably consistent basis.  He needs to eat more, but a good start has been made.

His sister is going home next Wednesday night.

And, escaping from one or other (sometimes both) of them, I have made significant inroads into the weeding.  Next week if all goes well I will move into a planting frenzy.  The week after I think I will have a small nervous breakdown and retire to bed.   I cannot tell you just how tired I am.  Or how much I hurt.  Just the same, the end is finally in sight.  (And, once again, thank you all for your support.  It has meant a great deal to me.)

Failure

This morning for something completely different we have been in the garden.

The smaller portion has planted over 100 bulbs. Daffodils, a mixture of the doubles and the split coronas.  I have planted maybe twenty and done some weeding and wept some bitter tears.  I can't keep up.   I am sore, frustrated and beating up on myself better than anyone else can.

And yes I know I am not being reasonable.  He planted in areas I had already weeded.  He can get up and down again without pain.

But feelings (for me anyway) are not reasonable.  I still compare myself to a person without a disability and come off badly.  And my expectations are perhaps too high.  Aaaaargh.

I am inside having a cup of tea and calming down (a bit).  Possibly two cups of tea.  After which I am going back outside armed with secateurs and loppers.  I intend to wrestle the stinking honeysuckle into submission so I can plant the last of the daffodil  bulbs where I want them.

And tomorrow I will start again.