valley

Dear val, I am back using two fingers. The day following my last message found me back in hospital with what are secondary infections. So in dread was I of being admitted again that all the initiated processes were the subject of my keenest scrutiny. I had an anti-biotic drip dripping once a second and I watched it with my third-eye willing it work a miracle. A doctor glad-toothed me saying "You remember me, of course, I discharged you yesterday". "Sorry", I answered, "I don't remember you - I was discharged by a sweetheart nurse". "She couldn't have followed the procedure without my authorisation". "OK", I retorted, "How come I have had to return so soon? He stalked-off and I turned my attention back to the other drip.

Four hours later and one damned expensive taxi-ride I was home again. During that night I found the immobilising pain was gone and I could hack and cough, and heave myself out of bed with none of it. Thanks be...

Today I went back to another place in the city for a dressings change; tomorrow the original surgeon will use his staple-removal tool to remove the 33 staples and comment on how well everything is going (at 300 words per minute).

For your gentle hugs, dear val, my gratitude.

Ben - getting better.

Thanks for the hug. HUGS back!

Dear val, using firefox means i don't have to sign-in. it also means i get to see the latest messages - yours for instance - so my belated thanks for it.
excuse the lack of or whatever is the result of using one finger to type. i am just returned from an wholly unexpected stay in a city hospital - now my idea of a loner's worst ever hell. no, i have all my fingers dear val but the movements of all other connected parts is painful but this slow method will suit me for as long as recovery lasts.
i find myself to be witless, muddled about dates and times and as yet unconvinced as to whether the responsible surgeon deserves my kisses or curses
this now self-declared big baby is pretty devastated and the once boastful self-sufficient idiot is brought to his knees by sheer incompetence and feebleness. to be re-made minus a bit or piece is to be forced into re-invention of a re-invention. very odd.
i am so unbelievably emotional i weep over all sorts of stimuli, i get stuck in a position which leaves me terrified of moving a 'muscle' - or what passed for same - in case the big beast grabs me in his jaws and tosses me in abject terror through air of his indifference.

how could i forget the way you did so much to help marlene, val. you inspired me to persist way beyond my competence and to get into a space i rarely visit - that of relative unselfishness.

my mistress - indeed my master, is, for the forseeable future just tears and pain. laughter is a huge risk but damn it i can still smile and touch those keys which are so important in this odd-space and spell you. and val and hugs and luv.

ben

Hi, Val ~ Yes, I have met Ben! He writes so eloquently! Fan club? I do believe we have already joined! I await another conversation with him! I actually 'discovered' him at your Profile Page! I do hope he doesn't run out of things to write about.... or for that matter... get scared off! LOL!!!

Hello, most busy Mom,

Not swim? Neither can most sailors since they recognise the futility of swimming with (sometimes) miles of water beneath them.So what do they do? Well they wear life-jackets and form friendly circles and kick their feet (to drive away predators). They probably sing bawdy songs to keeps their spirits up. And if they are lucky all those ladies and children who had first dibs on the life-boats may allow them them on-board.
You asked: "How much time did you spend at sea?
My answer: In a six month voyage about three months but then there is another answer possible. And that is I have been all at sea since I first found out what the word 'sea' meant - sixty-eight years so far!

Have the children fit you with water-wings and show you have to move your arms and legs, val. I think they would have endless patience and great merriment out of the process.. They could also rope you to a sturdy tree in case you got away from them. But make sure they teach you with your head up stream - you will have more natural buoyancy head to the flow. Nothing to it, val. Goggles and flippers might help too. If they show signs of increasing boredom tell them the deal is teach and eat or vice-versa. Even your cats can swim though they hate it. A cat presumably does the cat-paddle just as a sensible dog does the dog-paddle. That may be the first stroke they should get you doing. By the end of summer you could be the best swimmer in the family or your kids the best cooks on the river.

I recognise that someone with over 400 friends who want your advice on matters ranging from snaring the man to jugging the hare, making rose-hip wine to making your own besom broom, to say nothing of dusting the innards of a computer, repairing plumbing and dry-walling, nourishing your man with wholesome meals and pointed fur-covered remarks, and how to live in a democracy where a woman is king - could be time-consuming were it not for the fact that your fingers are nimble and love dancing on keys and your mind can handle six or more different conversations at any given moment without missing a beat. I know you can do it cos your friend-count includes all the folk who count around hereabouts. Indeed I find it reassuring to be in such exalted company since it suggests I am on the right track in my search for wisdom.

"TSG is a great little town" - you suggest. Pause while porridge-head simmers. I think it is a labyrinth of intrigues, spies, layabouts, fantasists, necromancers, and whimsey. (what do all these faint red lines means under these words? Don't answer that, val. Of pomp and pomposity, of innuendo & smartasses and delinquent 12 year-olds posing as advanced geeks (that they may well be). As for the guy seeking honeymoon ideas in Random recently I had to severely restrain myself or else risk the ire of Aca Candy - she has terrible ire, val, she's Alice in Wonderland who hands out shrinking candy to any transgressing male. I am terrified of her. OK I agree it's a great little town.but AC is the police chief and she won't lock-up Mulder.

As for that word/character count that's why you are my friend cos Mike dare not restrain you. No I am lying. You are my friend cos you speak to me.

I think I shall start a thread in Random asking for advice on increasing the time available to busy moms for frittering. There has to be a way. No one in a large family should have more fritter time than anyone else - it needs looking at. We need a time and motion study expert. Maybe those children are frittering too much in the river or up the trees.A ship's bell hanging on the porch. I like that idea. I ring of the bell is for cakes and candies. When they line-up the news is after chores. The neighbour's kids, idle monkeys, energy to spare put em to work. Husbands always come home looking deadbeat as a matter of principle. Make sure there are no chairs empty. And then ring the bell once. The kids won't come of course, but husband will appear. What's that for? I ring it when I could use a little help. Would you mind clearing the chairs so there is somewhere to sit? And while you are doing it sort the laundry, there's a darling. Personnel management - books on. You have a large crew,val. Make 'em work. (While you fritter).

The trouble I have with mine. Incredible. They don't want to do beans. I shouldn't have to do all the work at 74. I am a shadow of my former self. I want to sleep all the time. Using the imagination and acting all the parts is exhausting. I am thinking of striking. Or eating shrinking candy till I do a Cheshire Cat.

dear val.

Your frittered friend,

Ben.

Edited too, Val! Thanks! *Hugs*

Hi, Val! Me too, on the baby pictures! My new (used) computer doesn't work with my scanner (old thing!), so I can't share more right now! But when I do get a scanner.... watch out!

val, I am glad I asked you all those "You asked's" mainly because I feel as if I have taken a toddler's step towards the fat cat sleeping on the mat and managed, at long last, to avoid falling and squishing him/her/it. I am sure I am giggling as a proud toddler might. (We need a giggling smilie - you tell Mike when you tell him we should have, if not more +s, then a colour code we can allocate to our friend's +s - e.g. gold, more gold and all gold!

The energy and wonderment of children is a miracle to behold - and I become serious as I cast about the porridge of my mind gathering tiny currants to reassure myself my memory is intact where it matters. I recall a friend's big sister who 'haunted' his large cool and dark-in-places home. I don't know when I was told she suffered from asthma but I hope, as I write this, I was gentle with her.

You asked, "do all of my smilie gifs annoy you?"

My answer. Absolutely not, val. Were there 10x the number I would be happy because to be a pedestrian typist is to be forced to travel with enormous care when the heart wants to fly.

In some ways I remember the hand-written letters of the first 60+ years of my life with affection. I certainly remember how important they were to the hoping and sometimes-receiving sailors, and the hours we spent - with the ship considerably agitated by a swelling ocean or an importunate wind - one hand holding-on the other racing across the page as we poured out our longings for the peace of home. Imagination is such a powerful force and ours told us we had such a fever as home drew near enough to taste and smell and see - thus to believe in - we named it Channel Fever; and not one soul on board, no matter how sanquin or phlegmatic, or sensible and serious could avoid the infection. We danced on air those last oh-too-long days, were giddy and kind and dreadfully cheerful when, for the past six months or so, we had been, perhaps necessarily, other. In those letters, val, I sometimes would draw little pictures or plans to amuse or 'better inform' the reader.

In summary - even snails dance! Here's to Smilies - may they increase and show the diversity we diverse critters need in this age of 0I00II
__ from Cheshire with love.

Do we need to count characters?

You may never write/type more dangerous words than these, val "So whats new with you? Click on the "view conversation" in this message box and you'll see our conversation come up and you can answer back when you have the time. *hugs*"

Why dangerous? Because time is all I have. So it's me whose house should have leaky pipes but then, looking-up, I see it's dark and I have had my head down for probably two hours - so no danger, val.

Thank-you for help, encouragement and sharing.

Ben.

Val, why is there a plus sign by your name in the list of the on-liners? Why only one? The fact that no one else has one (my eyes are tired perhaps) is neither here nor there.

When it's sweltering hot in New York (city) does that mean you have something similar? Do you have weather which makes your children moan when they see it?

Why do I feel as tho I am trespassing on your space when I post in here?

I have more questions about this socialising business than I have answers. One question I demand an answer to where do I post my responses to your posts which appear in my profile? My responses are missing in the dialog below you must be feeling you are talking to yourself as far as I am concerned.

Help, val, help please (or point me to the how-to). And is val or Val your preference?

Greetings,

Ben.

Definitely increased the aesthetic appeal of the entire album.