I just noticed someone has seen this – I’ve posted again haven’t I? I just meant to make a note for myself and expand it at a later date. It’s the second time I’ve been troubled by premature publication recently.
Anyway, it’s a great post. I hope you all enjoy it. I’d like to be able to write posts like that. Bricks are brilliant things – we take them for granted but we’d be in trouble without them. I’d be typing in a tent if it wasn’t for bricks.
Meanwhile, put it down to another senior moment, and to me typing whilst looking over my shoulder in a subversive manner. Read this post to see what I mean.
I fell for what was possibly an internet scam website last night. There is no fool, it seems, like an old fool. My computer loaded it, despite its normal disinclination to load websites without security certificates, so I suppose it must have one. The address started with https, so I thought is was OK. It even had some convincing testimonials on it. But you would do wouldn’t you?
When I came to pay, it didn’t seem to work properly, so I contacted their helpdesk. The email was returned. I looked for a phone number or address but there were none.
At that point I realised that I may have paid money for nothing, and that I had given up my name, address and three digit security code to a stranger who possibly had felonious intentions aimed at my bank account.
Fortunately the bank was very helpful. They confirmed that no payments had been made and that nobody had tried to use the card. It looked like someone had just left a dead website floating in cyberspace. However, they were very helpful and cancelled my card just to be on the safe side. It will take four working days to get a new card and it is already becoming a nuisance that I can’t use my card. Without my card, for instance, I can’t book an online shopping slot.
They did assure me that lots of people get caught every day by things like this and said there was no need to feel bad about it. (I was at the time bemoaning the fact that my mental faculties had become so blunt that I would fall for something like this.
It was a bit like the time I forgot my PIN number. It had, at that time, been the same for 25 years. Then one day and as I stood at a cashpoint I realised that my mind was blank. I did not have a clue what my number was. I couldn’t even think of the first number.
They told me then that it happened to lots of people, but I think they might have been lying to make the old fool feel better.
I am beginning to hate these senior moments.
I even forgot the title once. I thought of it as I wrote, but by the time I’d scrolled to the top I’d forgotten it. Scrolled down again, and I remembered.
This was meant to be posted last night but I seem to have forgotten to press the “Publish” button. Senior moment! Bah!
I have reduced my “Following” list to 33.
At this point I realised that I have several people missing who should be on. I may eventually get up to around 50.
I was surprised to find that Derrick Knight was not on my list. He is one of my most visited sites, alongside Tootlepedal, but I didn’t seem to be following him. As with a number of people who are frequent visitors to this site I just get back to him by clicking on his link. Sorry Derrick.
So far it’s only halfway through the day and apart from cooking brunch and watching one episode of Diagnosis Murder I have done nothing but Word Press related work. I have answered comments, finalised the “Followed” List, followed Val’s instructions on how to delete followers and read a few blog posts. It is not a lot. Finally, as I am working towards a secret self-imposed target, I decided it was time to write.
Unfortunately I just calculated the target and I’m going to miss it. So, craftily, I reset the target and I’m going to meet it. All I had to do was adjust the time-scale. And, as it’s a secret, you will never know…
It’s later now. I’ve been on the phone to my sister, ordered a prescription online from a reluctant NHS system that kept kicking me out, washed up from brunch and made a pot of soup that will see us through the next couple of days.
I am making slow headway towards my 250 word target. This is 261. At 250 I can persuade myself it’s a proper post. At 240 it’s probably OK, but at 230, it doesn’t seem like I’ve made a serious attempt.
Some days, the magic just doesn’t happen. This may be linked to the bad night’s sleep I had last night. I have made many mistakes in my life, and last night they all came back to me. They do that once in a while. It has been within my grasp at times to be richer, happier, thinner and more widely published, but I have shown an uncommon talent for failing to failing to close the deal. It’s as if my subconscious likes to torment me every so often by letting me know that it knows…
I watched the title very carefully as I typed it this time, and typed slowly and smoothly so as not to frighten it. So far so good, there was no jumping and no loss of letters. It’s a shame that WP can’t provide me with a decent system in exchange for my annual fees, but at least I know it’s possible to cope with the problem by creeping up on it. I hope that more software providers don’t start using ambush activated systems as it is a little wearing.
Now all I need to do is work out a system for making the media run properly again. Perhaps something steam powered might improve things.
There was only one overnight order, which was quickly wrapped, and I went on to listing banknotes.
Julia rang. It’s often bad news when she rings, and I always worry when I see her caller ID. It wasn’t too bad this time, she had found the two Parker fountain pens I lost last week – they were in the pocket of one of my dirty shirts. That was good news. I’m always misplacing them and I miss them when I don’t have them.
Half an hour after that the post arrived with my new Parker fountain pen in it. It’s bright orange, inexpensive and has an attachment to let me fill it from bottles of ink instead of using cartridges.
Twenty minutes later, after getting it working, I addressed an envelope with it for an order that had arrived by post. That was the last I saw of the top. I searched the desk, the areas where it could have fallen off and my pockets. Nothing. Not a glimpse of the bright orange top. I searched creases in my clothes, the floor (carefully) and the stationery drawers. Nothing.
I endured laughter, ribaldry and ridicule from the owner and the few customers who came in, but I came no closer to finding the top.
This was quite annoying.
I worked, thought, backtracked and considered a prayer to St Anthony. I’m agnostic, to say the least, but there’s nothing like adversity for producing feelings of religion.
Finally, I employed the Sherlock Holmes method – “When you have eliminated all which is impossible then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
Having eliminated the impossible (alien abduction, telekinesis and a passing pen top thief) I was left with the improbable thought that when I had thrown the litter away after packing the order I must have been holding the pen top and dropped it in the bin.
It’s improbable, it’s incredible, and it’s embarrassing, because there it was, shining bright orange in the bottom of the bin.
It’s been my first senior moment for a while.
My Orange Parker Pen
Did I mention they were Parker pens? I just though it worth mentioning in case anyone from the Parker Pen Company was looking for a reviewer, a tester or just someone to generally send free stuff to. You never know…
When I had a look at the last post, before going to bed, I realised it wasn’t there. I vaguely remembered that it had flashed up on the screen while I was doing something else and I think I probably deleted it at that point. I’m sure there should be a single button to restore it, but I couldn’t find it and had to reload it bit by bit. This is annoying.
It’s annoying because I had another senior moment, it’s annoying because I had better things to do with my time and it’s annoying because out there on WP there are probably people thinking “Does that idiot really think a picture of banknotes is a proper post?”
No. I don’t. And the worst bit of it is that the best I could do was American money. I live in a country where you can’t even get a decent banknote picture of my own currency. I do have a few somewhere, but there’s not enough money to be a suitable picture for an article about being a millionaire. Or, in my case, not being a millionaire. Again.
The electronic prescription service, which I distrust, has failed me and I have had no text to tell me I have pills to pick up. It already takes two days longer than doing it manually, and now the system is even more delayed because it seems to have crashed. I will say no more, but I am very disappointed.
The pharmacy has a score of 2.7 out of 5 on Google, despite a few people giving it five with no further comment – looks like staff trying to boost the rating.One reviewer actually said he would have given it 0 out of 5 if he could have done. Thinking of it, that means it would score 1 out of 5 even if it was the worst place in the world.
If they think you order the pills too far in advance they won’t let you have them. If you order them just in time, the system breaks.
Of course, if they lose your paper prescription, as they did a few months ago, they ask if your memory is up to scratch. That’s why I’ve started keeping notes.
At this rate it looks like I might have to try keeping notes about how to work WordPress too.
Just two library shots for this one – a man writing and time passing. What sort of blogger can’t even be bothered to take his own photos?
There was, to be honest, only one point in the day when I was in danger of becoming over-excited. This was during the phone call from the surgery which told me that the doctor had returned my prescription request as I’d only had a prescription issued on the 7th of this month and it was therefore January before I could have a renewal.
This was a surprise for a number of reasons and I didn’t really do myself justice in arguing my case.
It wasn’t actually the doctor who rang me, and in fact no doctor will be able to speak to me until next Thursday. I pointed out that this would be inconvenient as I only had medication to last until Tuesday, but that was all they could do. I know this because that was the answer they kept repeating to me.
I am therefore officially displeased with being treated like an idiot. Constantly repeating something does not make it either an adequate answer or good customer service.
I am also unhappy because this is the fourth error in three months.
And finally, because of an error on their part I can’t have tablets which I have been prescribed, and which are supposedly necessary for my health.
We have three possibilities here.
One, Julia is part of a complex plot to murder me by messing about with my prescriptions when she takes them to the surgery for me.
Two, my memory problems are more grave than I feared.
Three, the surgery has made an error.
Let’s examine that in more detail.
Means, motive, opportunity. Julia keeps feeding me bacon, sausage, pork pies and chips. No, not as one meal. This isn’t working so she is trying to deprive me of my medication. It’s still an unlikely scenario, though it might make a plot for an American crime drama.
The main problem is motive. After 30 years of marriage I suspect she is either used to me or suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.
All in all, I think we can rule out the complex murder plot theory.
The mental decline theory probably has more legs, though even I might struggle to forget that I’d ordered tablets. I really can’t say one way or the other. Anything, no matter how improbable, is possible.
Finally, the doctor making a mistake. Traditionally, doctors don’t make mistakes. This is partly because they don’t admit it, and partly because, as the old saying goes, they bury their mistakes.
This, unfortunately, leaves only one logical explanation – that I have experienced the biggest senior moment of my life.
Today, in the manner of these things, was rather like yesterday. It was hot, stuffy and windowless. However, I had cold water with me and a new mindset – no more boredom, just a new relaxation technique.
For the second day on the trot we were full of customers until 2 o’clock. This was good as we’ve been short of customers over the last few weeks because they all seem to have gone on holiday.
After a hard day at work (comparatively speaking – sitting down prodding a keyboard and chatting to customers is not exactly onerous) I returned home to find Julia turning the place upside down looking for lost keys. I am forbidden to mention it, as, three hours later, she found them in her purse. Talk about a senior moment. Not that I’m able to say too much after what happened last Monday.
On that subject, I had my blood test results – they are holding steady and I’m not required for another test until September. This is a good thing. It’s particularly good as it took some getting and I didn’t bleed after they took the needle out. That’s usually a bad sign and results in more tests. I’m obviously getting the hang of it now.
Julia bought doughnuts today, because jam, sugar and fat are just what I need in my attempt to lose weight.
However, Julia doesn’t need the calories either and I thought I’d better help her out. It seemed churlish not to. The only problem is that they always come in 5s, which means we are currently having an enquiry about who ate the fifth one while Julia was out of the room.
I’m saying nothing.
Today’s picture is another one from Crosby Beach – the RNLI patrol keeping an eye out for sightseers trapped in quicksand. It’s a tricky beach as this link shows.
We went to Llandudno on Monday. It was unexpected, because I was thinking of going for a blood test followed by a day of loafing and odd jobs.
On checking the appointment card as I set off, I noticed that I was going to be early for the appointment. A week early. It was truly an epic senior moment. When I reach the end of my life and it all flashes before my eyes, this will definitely be one from the top drawer.
Talking about the end of my life, it’s just over two years ago since we last went, and a lot has changed. Llandudno has gone slightly downhill in that time. I, on the other hand, have deteriorated to a frightening degree. It’s definitely time to start taking my health more seriously.
Instead of shuffling and muttering as I walked, as I did two years ago, I was having to stop for a rest every 400 yards (or 200 by the end of the day). Fortunately Llandudno is accustomed to the elderly and infirm (it looked like an advert for mobility aids as we walked round the centre of town) and is well-provided with benches.
Sorry, I somehow I seem to have drifted to Llandudno without getting to the point of the Senior Moment anecdote. The point is that it was 7am, we had the day ahead of us and it was the first day of the holidays.
I pointed this out to Julia, who poked her head from under the duvet and growled.
She didn’t seem overly grateful to be given the chance of a day at the seaside.
Despite this, as you may have noticed, we ended up at the seaside. I had a list of piers and a thirst for ice cream. Julia had a slightly bemused expression.
For details of what happened next, read the next installment. As a teaser, it includes gulls, piers and ice cream…
Unfortunately, when I won’t be able to show any photos today as the Netbook is refusing to work with the camera card. It wants to format the disk, which as I recall, means it wants to wipe it. For some reason it does this from time to time.
As a result the tales of Llandudno are put on hold, as I want to use photos with the story.
Looks like tomorrow will be “Blanket Weed at Budby Flash”. Not quite as interesting, but it does at least have photos.
I could get away with it, because nobody could prove I was lying about the meeting, but I’ve had another senior moment of massive proportions.
After finishing the last post, I published it, shut the computer off and nipped up to the toilet. At my age you really do appreciate your mother’s advice about going before you go out. (That sounds better in my head than it looks on paper).
After saying goodbye to Julia I decided, for some reason, to double check my card. It seems that the meeting isn’t tonight. It’s next Monday.
Looking on the bright side, I should be able to re-use some of the post from a couple of days ago – the one that talks about the framework knitters.
As my brain softens a little more I will probably be able to watch TV without realising it’s all repeats.
I may even become good at dominoes. My Dad doesn’t remember who I am, but he still wiped the floor with me at dominoes last week. And he never played before he was eighty.
I dropped Julia off at work this morning at 6am, then popped down to East Midlands Airport to pick up Number Two Son. He is now doing night shifts as a hotel porter/receptionist and gets off at 7am.
After that we went home and I read some blog posts before packing the laundry and locking myself out of the house
If you say it like that it sounds like it was all part of a masterplan. It wasn’t, but I suppose you had guessed that. Do you know how long it takes to wake a slumbering youth who has been doing nights all week? I rang his mobile, I rang the home phone. I used the door knocker, I banged on the door, I shouted through the letter box. Eventually I borrowed a pole from a neighbour and used it to bang on the window. Repeatedly.
Finally I took the risk of knocking on the door of the neighbour who has our spare key. Fortunately she was up.I eventually woke the somnolent child by going into his room and shaking him to check he was still alive.
After that I drove to the laundry and sat in hothouse temperatures for over an hour. It was uncomfortable, but I had a good chat with an retired gardener who used to do the brilliant plantings we had in the city parks (before the cut-backs, as we always have to say). I took water in with me to keep rehydrated, but couldn’t find it when I wanted it.
Senior moment number two – forgetting the water.
Or did I?
In fact, as I emptied the drier, I found the water. It was in with the clothes and it was hot enough to make coffee, though not quite boiling. Classic Senior moment as my new friend, the Ancient Gardener, told me.
Yes, I know, as I may have said before. It’s difficult pegging washing out when you have uneven ground and a walking stick. When we redesign the garden we will tackle that problem.
