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With a hospital appointment due, a need for distraction was needed and buying a new casserole dish did not cut it. But, experimenting… or, playing… well now, that had met need, pretty well indeed.
But to explain where I wanted to go, one had to be present on Christmas Day, when Dad could not hear Stan Laurel singing ‘In The Blue Ridge Mountains Of Virginia;, due to his tinnitus and general poor hearing. And as I’d intended it to be his treat for Christmas, I’d been dead miffed when he’d said, “I can hardly hear a word.”
Mike had called as I’d been preparing my experiment, speakers from the machine in the backroom that have an external power source, using one of my favourite films, ‘Drive Angry’, starring Nicholas Cage.
Once Mike had gone and I’d finished watching the film, which had sounded quite superb through the speakers I’d plugged. Then I’d plugged my headphones into the speakers and finished listening to a Doctor Who audio I’d been listening to earlier, ‘The Ravelli Conspiracy’, a story that had Machievelli as a protagonist.
Then as I’d written I’d continued listened to another Doctor Who audio, whilst I’d downloaded ‘Timelash’, a classic Doctor Who classic story I’d not seen for many, many years…
Overall Christmas hadn’t been a bad day or so, with me ensuring Dad had all that Mum might have wanted for him [and me]. At the same time, she would also have been pleased we’d eaten together on Christmas Day, having previously avoided solid food for about four days. Furthermore, just for a change, I’d got my portion size right, which had been somewhat of a novelty.
Come New Years Eve dash Day, I’d seen the New Year in with a Doctor Who audio story, as read by Fraser Hines, who does a really, really good take on Patrick Troughton’s second Doctor, much as Peter Purves does a really, really good take on the doctor he’d worked with, The First Doctor as played by William Hartnell. In an interview I saw with Anneke Wills, who had worked with the second Doctor Who, she had something that I’ve noticed, most if not all of the companions can do a reasonable impression, or take on whichever Doctor they worked with. And, after listening to Fraser, Peter and William Russell, who also does a good first Doctor, I’m able to concur with the comment she made.
Come to that I’ve heard Anneke Wills read a short story set in her era of the show, with her reading both the lines for Patrick Troughton and Fraser Hines. She’d done a darned fine job of it an all, at that.
And yes, I’d guess one could say I’m a tad obsessed with my Doctor Who stories of late, but with a spell in the ‘womb-machine’ for a scan on my gall-bladder and liver at Broadgreen Hospital soon, any suitable distraction I’m able to find is appreciated.
Since I’d starting writing as I did, I’ve written more than expected, which is well cool. Since the accident dash fall and the loss of three friends and the passwords to several accounts, writing has not been easy for me at all; but not only have I managed to write several short stories in the last few months, I now have re-edited a few earlier works, prior putting them onto a new blog, ‘Angelus The Writer’.
Meanwhile my downloading progresses, with the one episode from season two of this ‘new’ Doctor Who that I do not have being acquired; one I thankfully cannot recall, so will probably enjoy watching. And, as I finish writing for now, I continue to listen to yet another story, with fear of Broadgreen yet to come…
On Friday I'd gone o the doctors and found myself asking for it from the sister of the one who kept saying 'no, we haven't an appointment'. Then, as we had chatted about something and nothing, said sister had walked on over and, then made a pont of offering me the appointment I'd been seeking, for a week or so. I'd left with a smile...
I don't like shopping at Azda on a Saturday, bank holiday and often, any day that ends in 'day'; people are so impolite there. But, I can only get Dad's Garibaldi and little yogurts from there and so, a visit was needed.
I had packed my bag, with the required big green bag and a freezer-bag, for the little yogurts and cheese for the evening meal, then emptied out my change onto the bed, looking for £4:20, the right coin for a day-saver bus ticket.
Amongst my change I'd rooted out the 50 pence coins, as I collect some of the designs and there amongst my change where two different Paddington Bear designs. Well, with a wide smile I'd stood then and made my way out of the house and down the road, stopping at the Merebrook for a quick tot on the way, as you do.
As I had crossed the car park and headed for the lounge door I had noticed something to intrigue me, to my left. I'd noticed an old khaki and worn green 1950's VW micro-bus, which as it transpired was inches smaller than the 1960's one and much smaller still than the one around 'today'. I'd been fascinated by it, with memories of the trips planned by Barry and I for such a vehicle, before he'd died. Then I'd been spellbound by the tax disc, displayed on the windscreen, dated Dec 1959, just a month after I'd been born.
Truth be told, I hadn't minded shopping too much after that; after all, I do like my little adventures... Talking of adventures...
My start to Monday hadn't been 'the best'. I lay there, all-night, looking at the ceiling, trying to find a comfortable position, as I'd thought of the next day. Then after putting the green bin out at 6:30, I'd fallen asleep; although I'd still awaken before Dad who slept in, for him. I'd had a coffee, then begun my end of the housework.
Then as Dad did his end of the housework I'd listened to 'Doctor Who', trying to chill, before travelling to Broadgreen Hospital.
When I'd finally got there I'd been initially mollified to find that the scanner was in a truck, outside Alexander Wing. But, Soraya and Sarah [I think] had been marvellous and saw me through the process in as calming a manner as possible.
I'd got home, lain down... then woke at 11:30 p.m., more than a tad confused as to when and where I was. And as the wind got up outside, I'd sat and typed away...