Free Hoose, tremors and pork

I tell you what, it aint half quiet in this house when I’m here on my own. I’m not really used to it, it’s eerie. Both Christiaan and I work from home so there’s generally always some fucker here making a mess, or noise, or both. I know that for a lot of people working and living with their other half would be like a form of torture but we don’t know any different really – we were work colleagues before we were ever husband and wife. In fact, Christiaan was the first person I met on my very first day, I remember looking at him and thinking “what the fuck is going on with his hair?”. Neither of us knew what the fuck was in store for us then though; it wasn’t love at first sight because we were both in very different places. We shared a similar sense of humour and outlook on life but he had a terrible fringe, a long term fiancee and lived in Chesterfield and although my hair was alright, I did have a husband and lived all the way up here. Oh for fucks sake, calm down, no, we didn’t have an affair. It was 18 months after I separated from my ex and a good while after he separated from his that we got together. I got my claws in, bewitched him with my sewer mouth and then imported him all the way up to Scotland for keeps. Poor man didn’t know what was ahead of him then, and I often wonder if he would have run a mile if he did. Probably not, he’s not a big runner.

So now we’re living together and working together, Christiaan has his office at the back of the house, I have mine at the front and we meet in the kitchen when we’re both foraging for drinks or food. We work virtually, so via email, messenger and conference calls for the same firm but our paths rarely cross on work issues thankfully. On the rare occasion it happens it’s v strange not to call him a massive bell end or ask him if he’s fixed that plug yet in front of everyone.

So anyway, I’m on my own, well apart from the furry brain trust over there, but one of them is licking it’s arse and the other is chuntering at Davie and Agnes’ pal Susan so I think I can safely say there is no intelligent conversation around. Now normally I’d just get on with house work, or cooking or something but for reasons that will become very clear very soon that’s not on the cards today.

I had a particularly brutal night last night, probably my worst ever actually. If you’ve been following the blog up till now you’ll know that I’ve been in pain for a wee while now with my bones but last night was as bad as its been – I was crawling the walls. Instead of passing out at 9 when I went to bed like I normally do, I was still awake hours later and had to text Christiaan from upstairs to fetch me ALL OF THE DRUGS at quarter to eleven. I had to have a pillow between my legs because I couldn’t stand the pressure of one leg touching the other; it was mental. I also had the shakes. This was new, and actually I’m calling them the shakes but it’s not the kind of shakes I’ve had before when I’ve been a wee bit weak, these were full on Shakey McShake Shakes… tremors maybe? I dunno either way, everything was having a dance to instead quite violently and it hurt…..M.E. really is the illness that just keeps on fucking giving sometimes, just when you think you’ve seen all it has it brings out another card. I couldn’t sleep, not just because of the tremors and pain but because I just couldn’t – I had been losing my speech before bed and I knew I was shutting down because I was exhausted, I recognised all of the signs so I should have just collapsed into my normal slumber, but sleep just felt beyond my reach, or like I’d gone past it? I’d not had more caffeine than normal, I didn’t feel anxious, my mind wasn’t whirring, and I KNEW I was shattered, I should have fallen asleep as normal….. what the fuck was going on? I guess it was a form of insomnia but it’s not something I’m familiar with so I’ve really no idea, I’m guessing. I’ve read and spoken to others with M.E/CFS who suffer from insomnia but it’s not something I’ve ever had bother with. Quite the opposite in fact, if I sit on the bog for too long I could nod off. I’m a liability, quite possibly a shit stained liability if I don’t get my timing right. So I’ve no idea, but whatever it was it could get to fuck, and when it got there, it could keep on fucking going. I saw every hour on the clock last night but I know I must have been drifting in and out of sleep eventually because I was dreaming and I was really aware that my dreams were all kinds of mental. I have no idea now what they were now, but I know they weren’t scary or upsetting… just odd. It’s unusual for me not to remember to be fair, I can still remember dreams from 10 years ago pretty vividly. It’s almost like my brain had a big fuck off party behind my back and it was trying to hide the evidence. Like when your parents go out for the night and you get all of your friends round and drink the cheap stuff and then deny you’ve had a party. When you were a teenager obviously, not at this age; I’ve got my own house for all that carry on now.

We used to have some right parties in my parents house though. They knew about them but they often played along with us telling them “we’re just having a few friends round each to eat pizza and watch the telly”…Aye right. We lived in a pretty small town so when my parents were out – every fucker knew. There was me and my three brothers and between us we had friends in most years at high school so even if the glass in the coffee table hadn’t been broken by people shagging on it, they’d have STILL known we’d had parties in the house. The Free Hooses (parties to you Englanders) were sought out amongst the teenage community but we were easy to please as teenagers to be fair, we drank whatever cheap shite we could get our hands on, some smoked joints or got chemically enhanced but there was nothing sinister involved. My very best friend in the whole wide world (BFF TED) would bring round her sound tapes and it was the actual law that this was the only music we were allowed to listen to. A heady mix of Pulp, Sleeper and Elastica with a side order of Shed Seven and Mansun belted from my folks tape player and when the tape run out, it was put back on again, you were ONLY allowed to listen to that. She’s a gentle soul is D but if you switched Pulp off she’d stand on your face without giving it a second thought to get it back on again; it was easier just to let her play it and watch her sing and sway. Fond memories D!

There was no trashing the house though, I mean why would you? What fucking sense is there in destroying your own wee recurring party palace? Where teenagers find their balls these days is beyond me. I would have been shitting myself at the the thought of my Dad coming home to a burnt out carpet or a 9ft cock and balls etched into the mirrored wardrobes. It was bad enough when my gran stumbled on a morning after party – only a few hours after I did. I had been out all night having a grand old time with the new boyfriend, came home and the place had been converted into some sort of naked youth hostel. There was Chinese curry sauce and semi naked youths everywhere. I did what every self respecting sister would do; I fucked off to bed. Fuck that. It was their mess not mine… well it was until I heard Gran charge in. She was no sooner through the door than one of my younger brothers friends was trying to charm her into giving him a lift home…the fucking cheek of it. It interrupted her trying to read the riot act right enough, if only momentarily before she hunted me down in my hiding place of choice. I was gutted she didn’t believe my “What party? I was asleep all night” line. She dragged me out of bed to bleach the back door steps. I’ve no idea why I was to bleach the back door steps, there was no spew or jizz on them, she just had it in her head they were filthy and that was as a result of a rowdy party. It wasn’t. It was just that we didn’t bleach our steps because it wasn’t 1922. I did it though, she was a fearsome woman and I knew my place. We all did – never fuck with gran, she was a fearsome woman.

So anyway, because I’m shit Christiaan has had Eli out for the majority of the day. They went shopping and to the park this morning while I slept and when they came home full of chat about dogs and squirrels/ I fed Eli his lunch and got him down for his nap in no time, he was shattered and after a wee hour and a half slumber Christiaan got him back up again and off the headed to the Deer Centre.

Eli’s been before but I doubt he’ll remember, he was too wee to take it in much. There are deer, moose, bears, wolves and loads of stuff for him to lose his tiny mind over and he’s had a great time, see:

And yes he’s wearing that fucking hat again – it’s been on all bastard day from what I understand. He really is a tiny tiny fashionista.

I’m really chuffed they’ve been able to spend some time together and it sounds like Eli hasn’t been too much of a tit either. I’d have loved to have gone to the deer centre too but I’m shit. I’ve not been able to do anything at all really, I’ve not had a shower, I’m not dressed and bar cobbling together some dinner for us all I’ve not moved much at all.

This is where having my Instant Pot is an absolutely blessing. I can chuck shit in and 12 minutes later I have a meal – like this pork risotto. I’ll not post a recipe because it needs a bit of tweaking to get the flavours right but it doesn’t look like a lazy bastard meal does it? I love you darling Instant Pot you steamy bastard ❤


Sooooooo, Eli’s in nursery tomorrow and I really really hope I’m on better form. I need to get round to the bits round the house that I’ve just not been fit for since Friday… like phone the insurance company and try and work out what to do about ceiling vag. It needs fixing obviously, but I need to work out whether paying the £750 excess and taking a cash settlement for the rest makes more sense than just paying for it ourselves. I should really have called them today or yesterday but verbally I’m all over the place and I know I’d not have managed… so … Manyana.

For now though, I’m off to bed… you’ll not have realised but this post is later than the others and that’s because the first draft disappeared. Literally disappeared and it hadn’t auto saved the fucking thing, so I’ve had to re-write it. I could have wept, I still might. So I’m sorry if this seems like it’s rushed; that’s because it is and I desperately need to sleep.

So today’s synopsis

  • Highlights
    • Eli and Christiaan seem to have had a cracking day together with no drama
    • I have 3 days ahead to just rest
  • Lowlights
    • Fuck, I have no idea where to start – today has been awful… lets just agree it makes no sense to go back over it again
  • What’s on the menu Mellars?
    • Breakfast was a yoghurt because that’s all I could face
    • Lunch was boiled eggs on a slice of wholemeal with some mushrooms
    • Dinner was that sage and onion risotto with some pork loin, it needs a bit of tweaking but I’ll have it nailed next time round

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