The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

It’s been well over a month since the medical and, I’m losing it. Dad went out with an axe to chop down a favourite pant of Mum’s and mine… and, I saw it from the back room. I’d rushed out and wrestled the axe from him… he fell into the rose and lilac bush, while the neighbours over the hedge told the police I pushed him intentionally.

Dad is fine and told the police so. But I’m been livid, coz the neighbour had also said I was a druggie who stays in his room all day, smoking: {neglecting the fact that almost every moment of the day, I wish I could go out and do, almost anything.}

As I say, Dad’s fine – he even asked if we were alright and we are; though I now know that my neighbours either side are out to get me. So it’s true, it’s not paranoia when you know they really are out to get you…

And, truth be told, I’ve had problems with them over the hedge since a day or so after they had moved in. The ex chief inspector had threatened me, to my face, on my doorstep, after his missus had told him some of concoction, very loosely based on a brief conversation about the woman who’d lived there before.

I don’t like me and mine being threatened and, so far the one’s who complain about me have all acted ‘out of order’ within the last year, or so…

Anyway, I hadn’t been surprised when social services had phoned at tea-time, as I’d been finishing making Dad’s Bramley Apple Crumble. The woman had asked for Dad, so I’d explained about his tinnitus, then continued talking, as she seemed okay for me to do so. I’d explained what had happened from my point of view and Dad’s, then about the neighbour’s. She had then spoken with Dad, loudly and slowly, as I’d asked.
When Dad had finished talking, he’d turned to me and asked, “How long till tea?”

I figure he just wanted his crumble – and, thin custard.

Come the evening Mike had called and once I’d told him of my day, he reminded me how my neighbour to the left had stood with crossed arms, watching him park down our drive, in his small grey sports car, the week prior. He’d been so mad at the fellow he’d fronted him, after which he’d kinda huffed and walked away.

At least we’d enjoyed our ‘film night.’

As for me, I think my digestion had decided it had gone through a ‘stress event’, for after several hours ensconced in the little room, I found the next morning as I’d made Dad’s bed and weighed myself --- I’d gotten down to just below nine stone.

The next day I got in from picking up my meds as it began to rain quite hard. After a hot drink I’d spoken to Dad ‘bout his tea, when he’d asked was he making a pudding. I’d reminded him he was having the other half of the Bramley Apple Crumble. He’d looked to the weather outside and responded, “That’s a bright spot on a dank day.”

After his meal I’d asked if he’d be able to tell her I’d fed hi alright and he’d told me yes; but was sure she was watchin, so knew I am feeding him well.

That’d been well cool, to hear…

But, I’m having problems writing, with idea’s… simple articulation, at times and, although I realise the cause… the dole, I cannot do anything. And, that impotence is ever so-frustrating…

And, talking of frustrating… I went to see the Prof at Broadgreen Hospital, the fellow I like. He’d given me my results and prognosis, then stated what I’d already guessed, “But, right now… you’re too ill for the operation.”

That had been most frustrating indeed, although it had been cool to see good friends, on the weekend. I’d eventually rested in the early morning, with a bit of a smile…

Then… come Monday I’d gone shopping to Azda, which isn’t too onerous in itself; but the travelling back, with the green bag full --- that had previously been inside another bag itself, for ease of carrying.

Anyway, afterwards my joints had ached so bad I’d gone to rest, once the shopping had been put away. Then Lucie had called. I’d staggered to the front door, moving like Mr. Robot Man, the regretfully had to say, “I hope to see you soon.”

I had called in at the red cross shop in Bromborough Village, to leave coin, as I do. As I had walked in, Steve who works there called out, “Haven’t seen you in ages. Stay there, I’ve got something for you.” He had. He’d a copy of the first Doctor Who comics collection, brought out by Panini, the sticker company, not Titan, who does ‘em now.

That had been a real contrast to Curry’s. I had taken my new camera in, as it has stopped working properly. The woman at the desk had tried it and needless to say, it had worked. She had not offered to test it and was plain stroppy. I got annoyed. So I’d placed the recipe and camera down and walked out. The loss is theirs, as I know how much coin I’ve spent there in the recent past.

Well, then there was my visit to Karl’s and, the taxi-diver. First-off, he’d been late to arrive: but, the fellow had listened properly, to me witter away about the dole. Finally he’d told me, “Don’t worry” and clarified why.

“Think of it this way, if they’d figured they could stop paying you, they would. And have you had your money stopped?”

“No…” I’d admitted.

“Well then,” he’d concluded, “stop worryin ‘bout something out of your control…” And really, that’d been the key for me, as it’s something I heard way back, in confidence class, where I met Lucie originally.

Needless to say, when I did get to see Lucie on the Wednesday, my frame of mind was somewhat better and I hadn’t been aching, from carrying too much shopping…

And, my ‘new’ camera arrived, courtesy of Karl, his pay pal account, my money and e-bay… It had arrived literally ‘ready to go’, so I do like it, so far.

Then this weekend while Dad and I wished for rain for the lawn, it didn’t – but we had got a lot done in the garden and, come Sunday night I felt pleasantly shattered, as I wrote and planned my soup, for later…