In The Garden....

Such a beautiful morning, the light was almost perfect so I took a few pictures which I would like to share with you.  Now before you feel the need to say anything, yes, I know the grass needs cutting and a little bit of weeding would not go amiss, I'm still looking for volunteers on that front: 

Now at this point I would like you to be seeing a nifty little slideshow I made with a musical accompaniment, but which sadly seems not to be uploadable. So here are the photos anyway, you'll just have to hum a tune of your own choosing:

Not quite Chelsea of course, but not too bad for Aberdare, though I say so myself. The flowers you can see are poppies, pansies, the blue 'cornflower' is  Centaurea Montana, the yellow flag iris is growing in the pond. We can't remember the name of the clematis, last year the flower was snowy white and 6 inches across, this year it has a pink tinge to it and is much smaller, something to do with the weather I suppose. The big purple balls are alliums. The odd looking thing is a Teasle. There was an Aquilga flower in there somewhere, a wild garlic flower hiding underneath some Rodgersia podphylla leaves and some pink perennial geraniums. The bench we never get to sit on has bizzy lizzies in hessian pouches waiting to be hung up when they get a bit bigger. The last images is some Alchemilla Mollis which grow like weeds in our garden but first thing in the morning those little drops of water reflecting like jewels on the leaves are magical. 

The music I hoped you were going to enjoy, which seemed appropriate somehow,was Van Morrison, Haunts of Ancient Peace from the album The Common One. And yes, I agree it is very frustrating that the amazon link assumes you will be showing interest from the US and not the UK, but there you go, seems there is nothing I can do about that.  Anyway, make of it what you will, enjoy the photo's and lets hope the weather stays good for a few more days and we'll get the grass cut...

It's The Last Day of April.....

That means it is the last day of Autism Awareness Month. Well, I wonder just how many more people are aware of autism on the 30th April than there were aware on the April fools day?  Sad to say that here in Great Britain it is probably very few since the whole of the media has turned itself over to politics and the general election.

There have been a few documentaries on TV around the subject of autism, but unless you already had an interest in the subject you probably wouldn't bother and quickly seek out the channel with the most entertaining film, drama, crime series, sci fi show or whatever to watch, or in my case, to go to sleep to!  There has been the odd reference to autism on the radio, but they seem to be in passing and not really anything to do with autism awareness month. It's politics all the way.

I had considered posting a blog specifically on the advantages of an autism awareness month but it occurred to me that I would only be talking to people who are already aware, so not much point really, especially as, as I mentioned earlier, there is a general election in the offing and that is taking up a hell of of lot of time and space!

Those who have strayed into these posts before will know that I am a socialist, I know that is a bit out of style and possibly offensive to some, so I've toned it down a bit and joined the Labour Party. No, really, I have, I've got a membership card and everything.  There are two main reasons for nailing my colours to the mast..

Firstly we live in a part of the South Wales Valleys decimated by Margaret Thatcher in the 80's. Whole communities destroyed in her dream of 'No society'. One can't help wondering what the thinking is behind Cameron's 'Big society',  I've got a sinking feeling that that they are just different faces  on the same coin, and the coin will end up in the pockets of the already prosperous leaving the people at the bottom and in most need with even less. Which leads to my second reason..

The NHS and Social Services. Social care. We all know we are facing cuts in services whoever is in charge because there is global financial upheaval due to the greed and total disregard of anyone but themselves by international financiers and bankers, who if they know of the existence of the NHS and Social Services would probably not understand its importance or approve. They rake in their bonuses and don't give a second thought to anyone but themselves, people with obscene amounts of money will not be affected by government cuts. The people who will be affected are those who depend upon the NHS and Social Services, not only for the services they provide, but there will be inevitable job losses, and there begins an ever decreasing circle.

Ok, enough to say I have a personal axe to grind, we had a small craft business that went to the wall during the last tory government, but it wasn't their fault our first daughter was born in 1985 with autism.
We effectively gave up everything for her, moving to South Wales because a more compassionate political climate in education there meant she did not have to go into a residential school at the age of 5, and her education and welfare could not have been any better served, and we managed to keep her at home and not loose her to an institution, which, by the way, would have almost certainly happened in the tory heartland we were living in when she was diagnosed.

Back to autism awareness, how unfortunate that an election was called right now. This whole month has been dominated by politics and all the bluster that goes with it. I have been seeing things about autism from all the usual suspects on line, lots of stuff on twitter and facebook, I'm ashamed to say I've hardly looked at it, I've been too busy dealing with autism at the coal face so to speak, the first half of this month was a bit dodgy, but glad to report that the last week has been amazing. A fortnight ago we had screaming and violent tantrums, this week we are discussing the size of her fathers belly and what we should do to reduce it, that colouring by number books are pretty cool  and the relative merits of decent coloured pencils as opposed to felt tips. She has also confirmed that homemade fishcakes are better than the ones you buy in Asda (Oh yes! I'm good!). She also just indicated to us that she is very fond of the Scaramouche part of the Bohemian Rhapsody, strange girl.

So I'm aware of autism, so are you if you are reading this, all the politicians I've been sending emails to about Autism Awareness, Stand up For Autism and the Don't Write Me Off campaign who have bothered to respond say they are aware, after the ear splitting screams Sarah was practicing last week, most of our neighbourhood are aware! Even our dog is aware, although if it's possible, I suspect she's somewhere on the spectrum too!

My apologies to anyone who is opposed to my political views, but they are my views and this is my blog, so I'm allowed to say Vote Labour if you want a better chance of hanging on to the social care system that we have in place, if the tories get their hands on it the chances are it will be destroyed, and if you are at all aware of autism you will know how vital social care is.

On a lighter note, this has just been brought to my attention, are you aware that we have Star Trek day to look forward to before the election...May the 4th be with you..... and don't forget to go and vote on the 6th, women threw themselves under horses to get the vote, now that's what you call activism, we could do with a few more Pankhurst types standing up for Autism Awareness!

A Little Bit Of Give And Take...

Feel like I should really say something about the current debacle around a mother of a 5 year old with Downs who found jokes about people with Downs Syndrome and their parents or carers or whatever the politically correct title is for the family and friends of said folks, to much to take and was brave enough to stand up and say what she thought.  I can't begin to say how much I felt for her when I read her blog:  I live for glitter: Well that was rather unexpected  I could give you a list of similar occurrences a mile long that I have encountered over the last 24 years of trying to make life for my daughter and my family as 'normal' as possible. It's all a matter of give and take.

Jokes about disability and difference are commonplace, they are a defense against fear and ignorance, or maybe I've just developed a thick skin. I've been watching the argument raging on twitter. Don't get front row tickets to see an edgy comedian if you are not prepared to be ridiculed, got to admit that was my first thought. My second thought was that she wasn't expecting to actually find herself confronted by comments that hit home as personal and offensive and why should she?  she has paid to be entertained, not to be insulted. Back to give and take.

I remember an occasion several years ago now, when some inarticulate young 'chav' girls started pointing and laughing at my daughter while we were waiting in a bus station one evening. They seemed to take exception to her shoes, Rocket Dogs, very trendy at the time, but a trend that had not quite reached Aberdare. Fortunately our bus arrived and Sarah was oblivious to the attempted ridicule. My blood was boiling and if I had had some support to call on I would have turned the tables and ridiculed them. That particular year was a bad one for fashion in Aberdare, awful hair, mostly peroxide, pulled back way too tight in a 'council estate face lift', tramp stamp tattooed on the lower back and a grubby thong emerging from Primark joggers (usually grey with pink piping, see how observant I am!), vacant expression on the face, mouth permanently open, looking as if they have more special needs than my autistic daughter.  But let's face it, you still see the odd shell suit out and about in Aberdare and I am still struggling with the concept of bare midriff and pants cut so low you have to keep pulling them up and ridiculously small bomber jackets in the middle of winter, don't these idiots feel the cold? Oh, sorry, was I a bit harsh there? Give and take, give and take.

Since my little girl has been grown up and we go to grown up venues and events we generally only encounter  the odd 'funny' look, mainly because people tend to approach Sarah first. In restaurants for instance, who in their right mind is going to talk to the middle aged old biddy when there is an attractive blonde to talk to? Most people cotton on fairly quickly so there is no issue. Give and take in action.

I've spoken here before about the service users monthly disco: Dealing With The Day: Ah, It's The 1st Wednesday Of The Month, That Means Disco.  An event that would confound and confuse the sensibilities of any number of edgy comedians. I do believe I made some sharp remarks about the style sensibilities of some of the residents of Aberdare, and in particular the bus station users in that post as well!  Being the subject of a bad joke isn't very nice for anyone and I'm pretty sure the good people of Aberdare will be seeking me out and chucking eggs at my windows for thinking their fashion sense is a bit off. But then the sharing of a silly moment or event is an amazingly positive experience. More give and take.

In my twitter bio I say that living with autism is a bit like being in a Monty Python sketch only more surreal. I stand by that. Without comedy what would we have to laugh at? Rhetorical question of course, but I guess you have to choose your comedians with care, knowing how ascorbic comedy can be these days, if I was feeling a bit vulnerable I wouldn't choose the likes of Frankie Boyle. On the other hand, one of the most memorable evenings of my life was spent aching with laughter at the far from politically correct Mighty Boosh live in Cardiff. A bit more give and take.

So, to conclude, (you'll be pleased to hear). The lady who was offended by the bad jokes about Downs Syndrome, the people who have it and the people who care for them, has every right to be offended and to say she is offended,  and I would doubt that Frankie Boyle has ever spent any time with with anyone with Downs or bothered to get past the speech impediments he should be grateful he hasn't got, since he probably wouldn't be earning the money he is now by using his voice to ridicule them. I would love to invite him to our little service users disco to experience the fun and laughter that is generated by the very lively bunch of young (and not so young, actually) people with all manner of differences from what is considered normal. We are all just trying to live our lives as well as we can, and I guess that those who have limited or no contact with disability will probably never understand how that disability becomes your life and almost everything you are. This is where give and take changes its meaning,  you are given a disability to deal with and your life as you knew it is taken away.  So, lady who lives for glitter and is a Mika fan, you have my empathy, my admiration and my best wishes for you and your family. Frankie Boyle, this isn't going to make a blind bit of difference to you is it, you just touched a nerve and it hit the internet, if I had any I'd put money on you performing to packed houses for the rest of your tour.  Give and take is the key, what are you going to do about it? If you live with a disability you have to be prepared to be singled out for ridicule, you are supposed to be weak and defenseless, so deal with it. If you like to make bad taste jokes about disability, if you must, go for it, you are hard enough to take a bit of criticism, you're a professional. A little bit of give and take is all it needs.

Some Things I Have Learned This Month

Time to post the events of the last few weeks, it has all been very odd and difficult this month, But I have learned quite a few things. We've been dealing with the fallout from all the problems I've posted about in previous blogs regarding care assistants, the unreliability, unsuitability and general bad practice by the service provider.  That problem has been resolved, for while anyway. But it took a lot of assertive or demanding telephone calls on my behalf. The most annoying part of that episode was biting my tongue when I was being told that they had found a solution, when all they actually did was uncross some of their wires and do what I suggested they do in the first place! Frustrating though it may be, there is no alternative available and I don't want to rock the boat too much. I'm not fond of the idea of being the dreaded voice on the other end of the phone associated with problems, that is not going to help Sarah in the long run.

It had been decided at least 4 years ago when Sarah started to attend the Day Centre for 4 days a week that approaches would be made to Psychology regarding some of Sarah's more aggressive outbursts, meltdowns, behaviors or whatever you want to call her expressions of sheer frustration when routines get tampered with and the people she is told will 'be there for her from now on' are no longer there. Basic autism issues.  As various professionals have succeeded to a point with Sarah, speech therapy for instance, who were a great help with their 'social stories' which we continue to use and are very helpful,  they all come to a place where they cannot proceed, and suggest psychology is the next place we go for help and advice.  Some, my GP for instance, cannot understand why I should be asking for help regarding coping strategies for Sarah and ourselves when she is in one of her darker moods. Of course they are not living on the side of a volcano, some have only seen Sarah on her best behavior, most people don't think Sarah has a bad side, but seeing is believing and some just don't see. I am of the opinion that the correct approach, whatever that is, when she is at her worst makes the bad times shorter and good times, when she is a pleasure to be with and really good company, longer.

So to cut a long story short, I have been trying to get a referral to psychology for some time now. The problem has always been getting past the care manager, because Sarah has learning difficulties any referrals have to go from source to the disabilities team, to the individuals care manager and then to the department needed. I'm sure I've blogged before about the lack of psychologists in the Cynon Valley so I won't bore you with that, in a nutshell, we are one of the most deprived areas in Europe, let alone the UK or even just Wales, it appears we have a massive problem with alcohol and substance abuse, which is of course dealt with by psych. so they are spread thinly.

Each time something happens with Sarah in the Day Centre that they feel needs to be addressed they contact the care manager, she says she will contact psychology, and that is where it stops. So, a couple of weeks ago I saw an opportunity which I just couldn't resist.  I was in the surgery for my usual six monthly blood pressure check and renew the prescription consultation with the Practice Nurse. She asked me how Sarah was. So I told her. She couldn't miss the bloody great bruise on my arm as a result of deflecting yet another attack with a TV remote. (See previous post!)  By chance the other practice nurse who deals with the psychology patients...i.e. the junkies and alcoholics in the main, was in the surgery. She called her in,  I told her the problems we were having at the moment and she proceeded to tell me there was a new man at the head of psych. and she would get on the phone too him/his department as soon as her clinic was over. This is the most positive thing to come out of this wretched surgery, I wished her luck and went home and tentatively passed the on the news. That was three Tuesdays ago. Three Thursdays ago she phoned me to say that they had taken her referral, but had to refer back to the care manager as it should have come through her. I thanked her for trying and we both wondered where it would go from there.

Well, where it went was quite interesting, later the same day I got a phone call from the care manager who was clearly very pissed off with me, asking what was wrong and what did I think I was doing talking to a nurse practitioner? I told her the truth, that it had come about because of a general chat in the surgery and it was considered worth a try since other approaches had not born fruit. She was not happy, but said she would approve the referral, which left me wondering wether she had even bothered referring in the past.  The next day in the morning we had a call from the care manager saying we would get an appointment to see a doctor at psych. within three months.  Ooh, a result, we were quite pleased. Monday morning this week brought a telephone call from Psych. saying if I didn't mind such short notice, they could manage a house call the next day. I was rendered speechless. Then I managed to say that would be fine.

Now finally we have a result after years of wondering, asking and getting fobbed off with excuses, Psychological services, in the form of a brace of real psychologists and a clinical nurse, turned up on our doorstep exactly when they said they would yesterday morning. We went through Sarah's progress from conception to yesterday lunch time, pages of notes were taken, we were asked about our thoughts and actually not talked down to, which is first, senior chap chatted to Sarah as an adult, another first. We now have to keep the inevitable diary, not difficult as we have a communication book running with the day centre and believe it or not I keep notes, just need to refine them a bit.

We're not expecting miracles,  just a fresh look at how to deal with the more violent outbursts i.e. the stuff that is going to get her into trouble if she isn't careful. Senior chap told Sarah he was going to help her with her temper, and he would come and see her again at home and at the Day Centre. I'm still slightly stunned by this, also a bit concerned about Sarah's care manager, who I am now having doubts about. I am aware of problems within social services care management teams, but I always thought she was pretty good, I quite like her and don't really want to think badly of her, hopefully we will get past this with no bad feelings.

So what I have learned this month is that being assertive on the telephone gets results, proof being that Sarah is at this moment at an Easter party at the Gateway club I was assured was too far away for her to go to a month ago. Also that if you talk to the right person things can happen and don't have too much faith in your care manager. I've also learned that statins are not all they are cracked up to be and are probably best avoided, the GP is is probably the least effective member of the local surgery,  I am a year older than I was last month and it is possible to lose your lovely Sony Ericson W705  but get a new sim for a horrible old Samsung D600e with the same number so I don't have to give everybody a new contact number for me, and more importantly, I don't have to learn a new one. The most recent thing I have learned is that slugs are active in our greenhouse....

I'm Just a Tad Annoyed......

Written into Sarah's Care Plan, looked at and if necessary adjusted every 6 months by interested parties, is 6 hours per week of being out and about doing interesting and beneficial activities with a care assistant supplied by Social Services

Rhondda Cynon Taff, the area we live in, sees fit to use care workers from agencies and other sources, presumably because it is cheaper. The outfit, which at the moment I will not name, chosen by Social Services to meet Sarah's needs have only been doing the job for 4 or 5 years, long enough to have ironed out any starting up problems you'd think. They originally ran retirement homes and did home visits to the elderly to get them up in the morning, help them with bathing and getting them settled down at night, checking they were taking their meds etc. 

Suffice to say, these very capable and friendly ladies and their equally worthy employers know very little about autism.  They all seem to have come across it and know the stereotype, but as anyone who spends their lives around autistic people knows, they are all different and surprise surprise, they've all got different needs. Now if a company says they can supply a service, you kind of expect them to come up with the goods. Obviously if their staff are not trained for the task they are being asked to perform, you'd think they would just say 'no we can't do that', but no, they just send them out anyway.

They do not manage to keep the staff they have for very long so there is a constant change of care assistant coming out for Sarah. Change is the operative word here. Change and autism don't go together to well and it has taken us a year of disruption over changing carers to convince Sarah that it's ok to go out with someone she doesn't know too well, leaving me feeling like a proper hypocrite, because I know damned well that I wouldn't go out with a different stranger every week. Why the hell I feel I should be grateful that anyone comes at all I don't know, when to be brutally honest, I'd prefer them not to come at all. I know they will just end up wandering aimlessly around Matalan and eating in McDonalds because there is sod all else to do.  And I wish I knew what happens to the request I make at every care plan meeting that Sarah does not eat junk food, which is greeted with nods of approval and placed in the plan, a copy of which, apparently, goes to all care providers.

So today I am livid because Sarah is already having a difficult week, (see previous post) and in the spirit of making these outings more Sarah appropriate we made arrangements last week to swop some hours around so that she could go to a Gateway club which is about a half hour drive away tomorrow evening as this would be of far more benefit to Sarah than wandering aimlessly around crappy shops. Seemed like a damned good idea to me.

The care providers office telephoned me at lunch time today to say that yet another new face would be coming to pick Sarah up at '12.30pm tomorrow afternoon because no one was available for the evening, is this alright?'  Sarah has been looking forward to and talking about going to the Gateway club all week and now I've got to tell her that it is not happening. Livid doesn't really come close to how I was feeling after that phone call, incandescent is probably closer to the truth.

Sarah is now a very unhappy young woman, still expecting me to perform a miracle tomorrow morning and somehow get her to the ball tomorrow night, which to be honest is not going to happen.  So tomorrow morning is going to be spent on the telephone, probably leaving messages and not actually getting to speak to anyone with the slightest knowledge of what I am talking about but being terribly sorry.  

That's it, rant over, got it off my chest. There is nothing more to be said or done on the subject today, thank you for reading/ listening if you got this far. Well done if you did, I would have probably have ducked out 2 paragraphs in....

Nothing Like A Bit Of Contradictory Thought...

As I said a couple of posts ago, Sarah doesn't like change and going into respite care for a weekend, much as she enjoys it when she gets there, is a massive change in her routine. If it occurred at regular intervals such as every sixth weekend or the first weekend of every other month, no matter how complex that may sound Sarah would be able to cope with that as there is an element of routine to the event. As it is stands at the moment it all appears random, only three weeks between the last two stays and six weeks before the next. Autism, surprises and random dates don't always go together to well.

So we had the usual upsets and meltdowns and general non cooperation from Sarah from about Wednesday last week, which I detailed in the post: Respite! Oh yes...  last week. Well she's home now. Came home yesterday evening after a day at Day Services, where she gave them a very hard time over the absence of her favourite staff member, along with other stuff. in fact a whole page of misdemeanors in her communication book. Of course she was not too happy about us knowing about the trouble she caused during the day but she was also relieved to be home, so we didn't get much in the way of bad behaviour, she just wanted her tea and to settle back into familiar surroundings and familiar things, in fact by 6.30pm she was her normal self, almost...  but there is still something going on, sort of in the background.

She has her period, of course! That is always difficult for her, but it will be over soon and thinking about it, the outbursts that are so intense due to PMT should have stopped by now. So I'm thinking this bout of bad behaviour is just to do with respite disruption. This morning she was difficult to say the least, and sanctions are currently in place again... any more bad behavior and Fridays planned jaunt to Cardiff is not going to happen.

But this is the point where I start getting confused. Everything at the moment is as Sarah would like it, period as good as done, home from respite.  By some miracle she has completely got her head around the ongoing problem of ever changing carer assistants with minimal knowledge of autism who are supposed to take her out twice a week and are employed by an outfit which also has minimal knowledge of autism (as they are used to running retirement homes and caring for the elderly) and contracted to Social Services in some sort of attempt to save money. And then I remembered the moon.

Now this is tricky, I know some would describe me as an old hippy. Yes, there are huge gaps in my memory of certain events and places I know I was at between 1966 and 1976. But I don't believe in most of what I consider to be hippy dippy stuff like astrology and consider horoscopes to be a load of hog wash.  Tarot cards are just a good way of sorting out your thoughts, as is the I Ching.  I don't pray to any gods whatsoever. The universe is a mystery and a wonder to me and I like it that way, I cannot get my head around some omnipotent being existing in any way, shape or form and how anyone can possibly be a creationist in this day and age is beyond me. But what about the Moon? It fascinates me, always has.

Here's a photograph I took of the last full moon very early in the morning on the 1st of February, the next full moon is on Sunday 28th February round about 4.30pm GMT I think, so we are in the second half of a Waxing Gibbous moon. Which is bad news as far as Sarah is concerned. This phase of the moon means Sarah will be pretty volatile until Sunday afternoon and I would lay money on her being a much happier and calmer Sarah come Sunday evening.

The problem I have with all this moon stuff is that it makes me feel like some sort of hypocrite. I can't help thinking about all those fabulous gothic tales of Warewoves and vampires and other fantastic creatures of the night all ruled in some way by the moon, and on the other end of that particular spectrum, I've never laughed so much as when I first encountered The Full Moon from The Mighty Boosh, if it ever does turn out that the moon has a voice and any kind of intellect I really hope it's like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IK2cfdsgzoQ

And to add another odd dimension to this moon stuff, we started gardening according to the moon last year and had some good results. Something to do with the water table or some such, which actually makes some sense if you consider the tides.  So you can probably see my contradiction dilemma, all this lunacy is getting a bit close to the hippy dippy stuff which I left behind years ago.

I will rationalize this whole moon business away to my own satisfaction if no one else's, it just has to be another of those wonderful mysteries I'm never going to get to the bottom of, a bit like Sarah's autism and that is a mystery and a half.  So we'll keep our heads down and spend the next few days walking on egg shells, then on Monday morning this week will be history and we will be wondering what on earth 

happened to February.... 

The Camera On Your Phone Is Handy, But....

....your proper camera, regardless of age, secondhandsness, and being totally out of date still does a better job. So after waking up to a very miserable looking morning with a slight but thorough snow covering, I took a picture through the bedroom window with my phone, which also doubles as alarm clock/watch, tweeted said picture and went back to bed:  http://snapshot.orange.co.uk/ekrjbv

 Inevitably I couldn't get back to sleep, and when crossing the landing to go downstairs looked out of the window and saw tiny patches of blue sky, phone/camera/alarm clock/watch still in hand I took another picture and tweeted it:  http://snapshot.orange.co.uk/2qyycj

Finally in the kitchen, I fought my way through the detritus of the previous 24 hours and put the coffee on. Dog is doing the doggy equivalent of crossing her legs and dancing about so I open the back door for her and observe that the snow is melting, the sun is shining and the bit of sky directly above me is without doubt extremely blue. So I look around the corner of the house to the view I don't have from any windows and realise I need to get out the proper camera...

But it is way too cold to be outside taking photos when I am yet to be outside a cup of hot coffee, so dog having done what she needed to do and barked at a couple of passing cats we retreat indoors and see what can be seen through various windows.  So back upstairs and the landing window, lots of blue sky now and the mist or low cloud is hanging over the river...

Now this makes the day look a lot more promising than the phone camera shot! This is looking more of less south,  the previous picture is looking more or less east. Our bathroom window looks to the west and the best views of moody skies (no trees in the way)...

Definitely looking chilly on the other side of the valley, we're lucky over her on our side, we don't get the sun first thing in the morning, but once it gets over the mountain in the first photograph, (we live just less than half way up it) we get the sun all day. Lastly, back into the bedroom, this window looks north, and to be honest, you wouldn't want to see our neighbours collection of off road four wheeled buggy things and his garage belching smoke out of the chimney, just what is he doing in there? Anyway this is what I can see if I look past all the nonsense...

 

And to me this looks positively spring like. I did take another photograph of the frozen ponds in the garden, but to be honest it was a little more depressing than the phone picture so you're not going to see it! Anyway, the sun is still shining and the snow is still melting and the dog is still barking at random cats and I really need to refill the coffee mug. It's just been pointed out to me that the weather forecast for next week is for more snow, so when I've posted this I think I'll get an online grocery order done,  just in case. As pretty as all this snow has been, I'm getting a bit tired of it now and if I was any good at sliding on ice I'd be at the winter olympics not struggling on and off of busses with bags of shopping. Enough, where is that coffee...