Rez

There’s an article today that Amazon’s Prime Day is a scam. I do not, for a moment, doubt the contents of the post. I am sure that many sales are price manipulations set over time. There is one deal that I repeat yearly, and it does save me money.

Cat food pouches.

I have 2 cats and 2 dogs. The pouches, along with dry food, are my cat’s staple diet. The dogs might get a pouch as a treat. I always need cat food pouches.

I follow the price at Amazon, Tesco, Ocado and Morrisons and I know a deal when I see it. This year, like previous, I spend a couple of hundred £ on these at Amazon during Prime. I save somewhere around 40% which is a very good deal.

I need to try and dig through the database of my old blog to find the images from when I’ve previously done the Political Compass quiz. I have a sneaking thought that I’ve moved very very slightly to the Right, and that is not a good thing.

I recommend doing the test.

https://www.politicalcompass.org/

20+ years ago my mental health deteriorated suddenly and wildly. My wife arranged - with my permission - course of hypnotherapy, paying week by week. The guy doing it said it typically takes 4-5 sessions to get to the heart of any issues.

First session was unremarkable. Second session he touched on my childhood which spooked me but it wasn’t that bad. The third session though…..

“I want you to imagine yourself as a young child. You are walking though a forest and you come across a clearing. In the centre of that clearing is you, you the way you are today. I will count to three, and on three you will now be the grown you, looking back at the young you. 1 2 3 And it happened. I was now in the centre looking at schoolboy me.

Then he said “What would you say to the younger you?”

“It’ll be alright”

And I suddenly and silently had tears pouring down my cheeks. He brought me back from wherever I had been, said “Okay, see you next week” and I left. I’m walking along the street to get to the bus stop, still flooding tears and the next few days were really bad. That so-called therapist had taken my mind to a place where I not just said those words but also reacted negatively. He gave me no acknowledgement, no talk to help me deal, nothing. He just let me go.

I did not go back.

It took months to get over that.

I bought new pillows in January. These are the ones. Adam Home Pillows 2 Pack Hotel Quality

They are good pillows. Well, it was a pack of two and the first I’m still using but it’s good.

Every evening I get into bed, lie on my R side, close my eyes - as you do - to sleep. Every evening my R ear hears the pillow ‘creaking’. Odd.

I should be the master of sleeping on my side without moving at all. This was from years of (diagnosed) migraines where any body movement would make it more painful. I used to get into a position where I did not move, and even breathing was so shallow to not move. (A daith cured the migraines).

I could lie on my back to sleep, but I can lie there for ages on my back and sleep stays away.

I could lie on my left but again sleep does not approach.

Roll onto my right and sleep gets close, but for the creaking.

I have to push the pillow around so there is a gap under my R ear - and THEN I can sleep.

What is strange about the creaking is that I will wake around 6am for a pee, and when I get back into (or onto as it’s hot here atm) and plonk my head on the pillow, with my R ear ON the pillow, it does not creak.

Odd.

I was around 15. The female of the house had bought a silver persian cat and it was fairly grown up.

The back door to the house was set back. Looking out the back door - it had glass top/bottom - the left wall extended forward some 30-40 feet, the right wall maybe 6 feet. Both walls had a light ‘pebbledash’ type finish.

On the far corner of the right wall was a huge fushia bush, and in the near corner was a bin. I have no idea why. The bin was a swing bin top.

I’m in the utility room, which had the back door, and I notice the cat was sniffing around just outside the door. Normal cat stuff.

I moved to the door. Slowly and carefully turned the door handle, then opened it suddenly and yelled.

The cat took off up the left wall, made it a few feet when gravity kicked in and it fell to the floor. It did a 180 and ran up the opposite wall, gravity happened - and the cat dropped into the swing bin with the lid flopping around.

Yes, I rescued it.

Still makes me laugh even now.

Mind, I later nearly killed it. Another post …

I was 13-15 and the school had a trip to London. I remember nothing about how we got there (from the North East to the capital is no short trip), or where we stayed or even where we visited.

One event sticks with me, even now some 45+ years later.

It was a cafe. I don’t mean a cafe as in posh, cream teas etc. Think formica tables, closely packed. I’m sitting along the right as you walked in along with other pupils, the door was in the middle of the ‘wall’ and tables up the left side. It was just us and teachers.

The food/drinks had been ordered - no idea how. A few minutes after the food was plonked in front of us, but after enough time that we had eaten what we wanted, the door opened, a woman came in.

I don’t remember what she was wearing so it would have been non-descript, but I do remember her holding a few carrier bags.

She sat at the nearest table, said to my fellow pupils “Have you finished?” and immediately started taking their unwanted food from their plates and eating it.

That didn’t last long.

The cafe staff flew at her, yelling, shouting, hauled her out.

She did not resist, said nothing.

That experience shaped me, still does.

One of my favourite music tracks - and video - is Poppiholla by Chicane.

Years ago I bought the domain that this site is now at, but I did not use it. I was emailed asking if I’d sell, which I did. Then last night I remembered the domain, whois’d it, found it was available and here we are.

My original blog, 2004-2020, could be brought back to life by re-installing WordPress, running update but the database with the posts can stay hidden. I might re-post some old memorable (for me) posts here. I have one in mind.

Best thing about micro.blog? I can use Marsedit which I have owned for many years and absolutely love it.

I was never good enough for the female who birthed me. There was literally nothing I was praised for, and everything I was criticised for. Leaving home at 18 was one of my best moves.

I met my gf, we got engaged (more crit), we visited the then parental home (separate rooms!!) and she made it plain she did not like my gf.

We got married.

She visited twice. She criticised our little kids. She made plain her disdain for everything about all of us.

One day she phoned and I’d had enough. I told her that she has never once sent my wife a birthday card, or our kids, or any anniversary / xmas cards and all she ever did was bitch at me and belittle me.

I told her that unless she had something decent to say that she should never contact me again and I put the phone down. This would be ~2003.

She did not call. I did not miss her. All was good.

Time passes.

Years later my Dad phones. By this time they had divorced, living apart, each in / had a different relationship.

“Your mum is in a hospice, she’s dying. Do you want to see her?”

“Why would I want to do that?” I replied.

Dad said something, I forget what and the call ended soon after.

Couple of days later he calls again.

“She doesn’t want to see you either”

“Even if she did I would not” was my reply

Couple of days later he calls again.

“Your mother died a short time ago”

“Okay”

The world became a nicer place now she’s dead.

I later find out she had written me out of her will. What I could have got was given instead to my two siblings. Two people I never talk to. I don’t care about the no contact, I don’t care about the will.

Times passes.

If you had asked me 4 hours ago what year she died I had no idea. Her death was a non-event, a nothing. I didn’t hate her as that gives emotion. I felt nothing. Zero. So why would I recall the year she died?

Then my Dad died a few months ago.

He had, on three occasions, while chatting on the phone, said he thought the cutting out of the will was wrong and that he would be leaving me some money. Each time I told him that he needed to take care of his wife - who is lovely - and that the will didn’t matter. He insisted and he knew, being over 80 and increasingly infirm, that his time was coming.

Given the female’s will, and that I distrust my still-not-speaking siblings, I have been checking the Gov online probate records. While the female’s estate might have been small, Dad’s has to have been close, with property included, to £1M so I expect it to show up. So far it has not.

Then I got to pondering. What about the female?

Probate showed nothing. Married surname, nothing. Affair partner’s surname, nothing. Birth surname, nothing.

Ancestry sites want money, promise nothing, so I plonked her Birth name into DDG and bingo!

A site listed her correct name, correct DOB and a cause of death which fitted perfectly.

Very funny, actually funny, that the female who was all in to fit this, fit that, faddy stuff was killed by cancer. (That might not amuse you, but you didn’t know her.)

But the VERY funny was that her death was listed on a Cancer donate page which had been created by the female sibling of mine.

The amount donated?

£ZERO.

No-one gave a shit, and that’s just as it should be.

2012 was a good year.