Boys and girls, gather 'round while I tell you a tale so shocking it will surely induce a severe case of toilet-cleaning-ophobia in one and all. Listen well, and learn from this tale so that hopefully the misfortune that I experienced shan't befall you aswell.
'Twas a dark night, and the moon was full (actually it wasn't, it was half full cos it was last night), anyhoo, in the grips of pregnancy insomnia, I shuffled around the apartment, hoping for some menial task to tire me out enough so I could get to sleep. I settled on cleaning the bathroom. I sprayed the shower clean stuff in the bath, and rinsed it away to leave a nice shine... still wide awake. Sprayed shower clean stuff in the sink, wiped away the toothpaste stains, cleaned the mirror...still awake. 'I know,' says I, 'I'll scrub the loo'. Now before you go thinking our bathroom is a filthy cesspit, I feel compelled to point out it was actually pretty clean already, so that's probably why cleaning the sink and bath wasn't all that taxing. Cleaning the toilet was also going to be fairly straight forward - pour in cleaner, wait a few mins, brush, flush, done - or so I thought.
I grabbed the Parazone and started applying it under the rim, and that's where the trouble started. See, there wasn't a whole lot of Parazone left, so I only got about halfway around the bowl when it ran out. Rather than have a half-clean toilet, I remembered that there was a bottle of Harpic in the cupboard, so I fetched it and applied it to the rest of the bowl, overlapping where the Parazone coverage was a bit patchy. Anyhoo, I stood back and let the cleaning commence, only it wasn't cleaning that commenced, it was a rather unpleasant chemical reaction. Firstly the places where Parazone and Harpic touched started foaming, now I'm not an expert on toilet cleaning products by any stretch of the imagination, but it struck me that this wasn't quite right. My suspicions were further confirmed by the acrid smell that was now rising from the loo. Our bathroom doesn't have windows, so the fumes got very intense very quickly. I reached over, flushed and legged it out of the bathroom and onto my balcony for some fresh air.
After much coughing and spluttering and wheezing, I figured I had enough clean air in my lungs to check the bathroom and survey any damage that might have been done. Upon opening the door however, it quickly became apparent that I'd need some sort of breathing apparatus to survive longer than ten seconds in the bathroom, the smell appeared to be getting worse! I considered my next move, and decided it was time to alert my long-suffering husband, who, after working a 7 day week, was tucked up in bed sound asleep and none the wiser to my impromptu chemistry jamboree in the loo. So in I went and shook him awake. After explaining to him that, no, I wasn't in labour, I told him what had happened in the bathroom and he assured me everything would be fine, and that the smell would go away. I doubted that assessment for several reasons; firstly he was very very sleepy and I'm not sure if he actually realised what I was talking about, secondly he hadn't actually been in the bathroom so didn't know how bad it was, and thirdly I suspected that he was telling me what I wanted to hear so that I'd go away and let him sleep. I contemplated calling the fire brigade, not that I was sure if they could actually do anything, but for some reason the thought popped into my head. I thought it might be wise, however, to go in and re-assess the situation before I got the emergency services involved.
Now in the absence of a respirator or some other similar piece of equipment, I figured that the best thing I could do was soak a facecloth, fold it over and hold it over my mouth and nose. Once more into the breech I went, with my trusty wet facecloth. I opened the lid and peered into the commode only to see that there was still quite a bit of Harpic and Parazone (henceforth to be known as Harpazone) clinging to the sides of the bowl. I could only assume that this was due to their thick, limescale removing, germ killing formulation, which they're always going on about in the adverts. There was only one thing for it, I would have to scrub it off with the toilet brush. I must admit that the prospect of this frightened me, because I'd clearly created some sort of toxic chemical here, and although it hadn't damaged the porcelain, it was quite obviously caustic (the foaming and fumes had clued me into this) and our toilet brush is plastic. I wasn't too sure how the toilet brush was going to react when it came into contact with the mixture, and I was fairly sure that burning plastic fumes would do little to alleviate the situation. After offering up a little prayer to the gods of sanitary ware, I plunged the toilet brush into the bowl and got scrubbing. Luckily, the mixture seemed to have been sufficiently diluted so as not to start melting the brush, and soon enough the sides were clear. I gave it one more flush for luck, and ran back outside, turning the extractor fan on as I went.
At this stage, thankfully, the worst was over, however it was about 6am before the bathroom was fit for human habitation again. In the intervening time, I had opened every window in the apartment, and was sitting out on the balcony calmly awaiting death, who I figured would be along sooner or later because I'd inhaled some of the toxic fumes. It was actually quite nice sitting on my balcony and watching the sun come up, drinking a cup of tea and reading a book. Luckily, death seemed to have gotten enough amusement from my plight to feel pity for me and spare me for another day. One of the worst parts about the whole thing was that there were four solid hours where I couldn't use the loo, and being nearly 9 months pregnant, this was a serious issue. At least I got through it, although my lungs and kidneys still aren't the better for it.
Interestingly enough, I was chatting to my friend this morning, and he was able to tell me what it was I'd created in my toilet - Chlorine Gas!!! Apparently it's been used as a chemical weapon and can be lethal! I think my toilet cleaning days are well and truly over, it seems that I can't be left alone to do the most menial of household tasks without creating a potentially deadly hazard. On the plus side though, the jax is absolutely immaculate, I haven't seen it this clean ever, like you could comfortably eat a meal out of it. I think on reflection though, I'd sooner have the loo slightly less pristine and still retain a set of fully functioning lungs.
Well hello again everyone (or perhaps no-one, perhaps this blog will remain as it has been for the past 8 months or so - a barren wasteland devoid of any activity bar the odd tumbleweed shambling across the screen).
As I said in the title, I really must apologise for I have been shockingly remiss in updating the blog since before Christmas. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, 'outside' stuff got in the way and poor bloggy wog was abandoned. I feel especially bad because it saw me through many a night where madness may have overtaken me during the snowy festive season. Really, I think I may owe what's left of my sanity to the dear old blog.
And so, on this reasonably sunny Sunday afternoon, I find myself writing another blog post - my first since mid December, and wouldn't you know it, I'm crippled again. Perhaps this can be a sort of therapy blog, in that I'll only write in it when I'm physically encumbered. Actually that probably wouldn't make much difference cos with the amount of accidents I have I spend a good portion of the year recovering from some sort of injury. If I'm being honest, what I'm suffering from right now isn't really an 'injury' in the true sense of the word, and if it was it would certainly be self inflicted meaning that I wouldn't really be entitled to as much pity as I might hope for. Now some of you may be quite confused right now and wondering what the heck I'm talking about, so for those that don't know, I'm pregnant! Which sorta explains the almost 8 month absence (gestating a child is bloody tiring I'll tell you!). Now it's not pregnancy that has me all crippled, more like a pregnancy related condition which affects my pelvis making things like walking, lying down, sitting down, pretty-much-doing-anything painful! Oh the fun! Aside from that, pregnancy is proving quite enjoyable! So yeah, due on 11th of September and despite what my husband might say, we are NOT naming our child Osama, we're just not. Or Gobnait. In fact, I'm going to choose the name and he will get no say in it, seeing as it's his fault I'm in this situation anyway!
So 'twas a few days after Christmas when I found out (and probably about February before it actually sunk in that I was going to be a mum). Had been feeling a bit funny for a few days and almost just for the craic I decided to take a test. Jaysus, the joke was on me though when the little line appeared! So now our apartment has had many furniture additions, mostly to accommodate very small people who will be totally reliant on us for feeding and getting their stools disposed of. The dog was initially quite confused, and I suspect that she was concerned that she was going to be put in a lot of this miniature furniture, but now she has accepted it's presence. It'll be interesting to see how she reacts to the baby! If anyone knows a good dog trainer who's had any success training spaniels how to prepare bottles and change nappies, I'd be delighted to get in touch with them!!
Just a little something I thought up in an attempt to stave off the cabin fever (I figured it was healthier than writing 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.' repeatedly, on a typewriter) So here are my top tips for surviving Snowmageddon:
A is for Alpine Trekking Poles - these puppies can come in very handy if you're unfortunate enough to have to walk places in the snow. My advice would be to get them in some of the smaller camping shops in town, rather than the bigger chain stores, which can be far more expensive. To give you an example, when I looked at the poles in the outdoor shop in Dundrum, they were around €100 PER POLE!!! My hubby got them in a camping supply store on Capel Street for around €30 for a set of 2.
B is for Boots - not the store, silly! The footwear! A half decent pair of boots/shoes needn't cost the earth, and can be a lifesaver when the snow arrives. Honestly, the amount of injuries that could be avoided if people had the correct footwear is probably huge! Yes, I'm talking to you, stupid lady walking through ankle deep snow in the Industrial Estate in a pair of stilettos!
C is for Careful Now! - whether it be on the roads or on the paths, the cold weather makes for some treacherous surfaces out there, so make sure to exercise caution when travelling. Lets face it, it's better to take a bit of extra time and arrive at your destination in one piece, rather than spending hours shivering on the road waiting for the AA to come, while your car is upside-down in a ditch because you took a corner at speed.
D is for DEFCON - well, defense readiness condition is what that stands for, and we all need to be ready to defend ourselves against the snow (or perhaps I just struggled to find something that 'D' is for). When the snow is forecast, make sure you've topped up on essentials for the house, food etc. An often forgotten essential is Loo Roll. The humble bog roll is often overlooked while people are busy loading their trollies with milk and canned goods, only to realise what they've forgotten a week or so later when the snow is lying thick on the ground outside. And we all know the bigger the multipack of TP the better the value, so rather than risk having to duct-tape a 24 pack of Kitten Soft to your back while you walk home from work, remember to stockpile instead, and save on the embarrassment.
E is for Engine - always make sure to keep your car's engine in good nick over the winter months. It could be the difference between spending the night warm in your home, and spending the night freezing in the boot of your car on the side of the M50. Pop a wee bit of de-icing fluid in your washer bottle too, so it won't freeze up.
F is for Feet - our poor old feet have a tough time of it in the snow and ice. As I already said above, invest in some suitable shoes/boots, but also get some good thick socks, especially if you're only breaking in the new shoesies, because there's a high chance you'll get a blister or two. Toss a pack of those Compeed plasters in your bag so you'll have them if the need arises.
G is for Grit - it's all fine and dandy on the main roads where the grit trucks 'can' go spreading, but in estates and driveways etc, conditions are treacherous. If you have some salt, sand, kitty litter or compost lying around, why not spread it on your front steps or driveway to help avoid slipping! Also a tip I heard was people carrying a bag of sand, or kitty litter in the boot of their car, and if they get stuck on the roads, they spread a bit out in front of the car to regain some traction.
H is for Hat - a good hat is the foundation to a good day, in this weather at least. Make sure and dry it out well after it's worn (if it gets wet) cos there's nothing worse than walking home from work in a wet hat. Be creative and experiment with different types of hat, the zanier the better, it's all good! H is also for Horlicks, because it's even more delicious in this snowy weather, and they have a Light version too, for those who are watching their waistlines. Add to a blender full of Baileys, milk and Vanilla ice cream for a delicious boozey malt.
I is for Ice - which is most likely covering the windows of your car every morning. Tesco does a Super De-Icer which works in temperatures down as far as -30'C, so hopefully that should be enough to cope with the current freeze. At a tasty €3.80 for 600ml, there really is no excuse to not have a can of this in your car. Unless, of course, your local Tesco has sold out. In that instance, I'm afraid it's a case of 'you snooze - you lose'.
J is for Jumpers - woolly, fluffy, awesome Jumpers! Much like the hat, a good jumper is a must have for the crappy weather. Winter jacket not warm enough? Not a problem, just add a jumper! The key is to layer them. Start with a t-shirt, then a long sleeve t-shirt, then a light sweater, then a heavier one, and then your coat. Sorted! And I don't want to hear any bitching about the layers being cumbersome. This guy wore 155 t-shirts at the one time! Go talk to him about cumbersome!
K is for Knackers - snow will invariably attract all manner of reprobate, it's almost as though they're drawn to it. Said reprobate is usually between the ages of 8 and 25, and generally wears some sort of tracksuit ensemble that involves tucking the trousers into tube socks. Their favourite activity seems to be hurling projectiles at passing vehicles/people with reckless abandon, and total disregard for their safety. Really, when confronted by these yobs, there is little to be done, other than walk quickly past, try not to make eye contact, and hope that their aim is poor. If there's few enough of them, and nobody else is around, you could try hitting one of them a sly smack with your Alpine Trekking Pole, but often times, the risk of retaliatory measures makes this option inadvisable.
L is for Live Updates - be sure to check the bus/rail websites for live transport updates before you set out on your journey to see if there are cancellations or curtailments on your route. Had I done this a few weeks ago, I wouldn't have spent 2 hours of my life on a cold poxy bus, only to be dumped out at a roundabout with another hour and a half left to walk home.
M is for Mince Pies - delicious mince pies! Nothing I like better when it's cold outside than a nice cuppa and a tasty pie! My husband is a huge fan too, so mince pies have a very short lifespan in our house. In fact, there's been talk of them being listed as a protected species, so make sure and eat all you can now, before they disappear!!
N is for Nose - walking home in the snow? Need to make a call or send a text on your touch screen phone, but don't want to take your gloves off and get your fingers all chilly? I have a solution for you: just use your nose! Please note that I take no responsibility for the inaccuracy of text messages sent, or the number of accidental phone calls made. I also take no responsibility for any embarrassment suffered while texting/dialling with your nose.
O is for Organisation - when huge amounts of snow fall, even the simplest of things - like getting milk from the local shop - turn into a massive ordeal, but it can be made less painful if you're organised. The first, and most obvious, thing is to allow extra time for any journey you have to make, whether it be in a car or on foot. Keep supplies in the boot of your car, like a shovel, grit (or similar), high vis vest in case you need to get out of the car, car charger for phone, ice scraper for windscreen, and sensible shoes. If you're walking to shops, I'd recommend bringing a backpack to get your groceries home in, it'll save your hands the pain of carrying multiple shopping bags. If you've got a really big shop to do, try and get your hands on a childrens' sleigh, and some bungee cords, that way you can load your shopping on the sleigh, secure with cords, and glide home.
P is for Plow - that thing that's supposed to clear the roads but really just takes the top layer of snow off and leaves shiny ice. The best plows are the ones that have a scooper at the front, and a gritter at the back, so when they scrape the snow off, and spread grit and salt it actually penetrates and clears the roads. The main obstacle of the plow seems to be idiots who abandon their cars on the sides of roads, without pulling in far enough, so the plow can't get past. My estate has fallen victim to this, and in the last snowfall a couple of weeks ago, the plow couldn't get in, thanks to inconsiderate morons. If you're one of these morons, in future spare a thought for the humble plow and make everyone's life easier/safer: only abandon your car in a safe and unobtrusive location. P is also for Poo. Pet owners will know what I mean. The dog has gone out to do it's business, but before you get out to clean up, it snows, hiding the evidence. The upshot of this being that a week of snow/pooping will leave your garden a veritable minefield which is best avoided until a thaw has thoroughly set in and you can properly assess the terrain.
Q is for Quality Time - yes, I really struggled to find something that 'Q' is for, and this is the best I could do, so you'll just shut up and like it! What with snow hampering a lot of social plans, it seems like a good opportunity to spend some quality time at home, whether it be with a loved one, or a friend, a pet or even just on your own. Have a nice relaxing bath, make a hot cup of something, read a book or stick something on the TV and just chill out (no pun intended).
R is for Roads - which are in a shambolic state altogether. Actually R could also be for Rinks, which is basically what a lot of the roads resemble at the moment. Check out this video which shows what it was like for people trying to get onto the M50 at Dundrum, and also up the hill near our apartment. Actually, R could also be for Rear Wheel Drive, and the video illustrates nicely why it's useless in snow.
S is for Scenery - bet you thought it'd be S is for Snow! Ha! But seriously, once you get past the horrific driving conditions, the cold, the public transport drama, the airport closing, the accidents, the knackers with snowballs, etc the snow does actually make things look really pretty. So while you're sitting in your car on the way home from work, and have move the grand total of 100 metres in the space of an hour, take a moment to admire the snowy prettiness around you. It might give you a brief interlude of calm, in which to allow your blood pressure to fall to a near-normal level.
T is for Thunder - which is what it sounds like when the massive buildup of snow finally falls off the roof of our apartment building. Honestly, it sounds like the seven apocalyptic trumpets when the stuff starts raining down from the roof. If you're looking out your window while some falls, all you'll see is complete white for about ten seconds, and then the world will return. If you happen to be standing below where it falls....well then you won't see anything because you'll be dead.
U is for Urine - as anyone who has been stuck on the road for a long period during the snow will know, urine can cause quite the problem. Picture the scene: you're preparing for a long drive home, so you stock up with a nice hot cup of coffee, and a few bottles of water/juice, then get in the car and hit the road. 2 hours later, and you've just made it onto the motorway, but are stuck between exits when suddenly nature calls. What do you do? It could be another hour or more before you find a bathroom. Do you hop out of your car and pee on the hard shoulder? Do you wait it out, and hope that your pelvic floor muscles are up to the challenge? Of course, if you're male, you could simply relieve yourself into one of the empty water bottles in the car, but then you're faced with driving home in a car with a bottle of your own pee. Honestly there's really no way around this one other than to make sure you spend a penny before you set out on your journey, and try to drink as little as possible while you're driving. I had a near miss last year while driving home in the snow. Luckily I got to Bewleys in Leopardstown in the nick of time. I've never run faster in my life than when I ran down the corridor to their bathrooms. It was a photo finish, that's for sure!
V is for Vileda Squeegie Mop - a little known snowy weather essential. It's extremely useful if you're a pet owner because you'll have to let the little furball out to do his/her business in the garden, and when they come back in, soggy paws are an inevitability. Similarly affected are those who have to go outside to put things in the wheelie bin, and such. When you come back in, you'll track snow all over the floor, which will melt into little puddles. Enter the Vileda Squeegie Mop, which will easily absorb all excess moisture, leaving your floor puddle-free. It's also handy for brushing snow off your car.
W is for Walking Un-Aided - which is what I wish I could do, but alas I can't. Owing to my recent trip to the ground, crutches are a necessity for me for the moment, which makes getting out in the snow nearly impossible. Moral of the story? Unless you want to end up on crutches this holiday season, make sure to take extra care when you're walking out there!
X is for the X-shaped Patterns Snow Chains Make - if you're well prepared, this is the type of imprint your car will be leaving on the snow. Just make sure you've got the chains fitted properly, and don't use them on roads that aren't covered in snow, otherwise you'll wreck the roads and your tyres, and your snow chains. From what little research I've done on the topic, if you're considering buying a set of chains then it's worth forking over a little extra to buy a decent set, because if they snap while you're driving they'll do some serious damage to your car.
Y is for YakTrax - Yak what??? YakTrax are an awesome little device that you fit over the soles of your shoes to give you improved traction on snow and ice. I can personally vouch for their effectiveness; they're completely awesome! If there's one thing you buy this year to help you in the snow, I'd recommend these. My hubby bought them in the same camping shop where he bought my trekking poles, and they were somewhere in the region of €30. I reckon most good camping shops will have these dealies for sale. You can also buy them directly here.
Z is for Zooming - which means travelling at speed. Of course with the snow, you won't have been zooming anywhere, unless you're on a sleigh and heading down a hill. To unwind from all the hustle and bustle of the week, why not grab your sleigh and zoom your troubles away!
Well as I mentioned in previous entries, I'm currently having a little trouble in the knee department, brought on by a fall in the snow a couple of weeks ago. Initially they thought I'd torn my Cruciate Ligament, but after a couple of visits to the doc and an MRI, they reckon the ligaments are intact, so I was dispatched to physio. Huzzah! Or so I thought.
My first physio session was on Saturday, and it basically involved them trying to assess what was actually wrong with my gammy old knee. Well, after much poking and prodding, they now reckon the problem is with my kneecap, apparently it's too far over to the right. The therapist had to tape it back into the right place, which was almost vomit inducing, and the plan was that I would go back during the following week for more treatment. Oh yes, it was a good plan. Until...............the stupid snow came back.
I mean, I just don't understand it, hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people have voiced their dislike of the snow, so you'd think it'd just take the hint and feck off. But oh no, it's back. And like the cantankerous elderly relative that nobody wants to sit beside, it looks like it'll be staying for Christmas. I suppose I can't be entirely mad at my gammy knee, because had it not been for it's gamminess, I would surely have been among the hoards of weary travelers battling their way home through the blizzard this evening. And no doubt I'd also have had to contend with assorted knackers throwing snowballs, as I walked to my apartment.
So maybe the knee injury was a blessing in disguise? Well, lets not go that far, but I suppose things could be worse! The real pain in the arsey bits are being unable to drive (if the snow clears up enough), and not being able to go out and play in the snow. For now, I'll have to make do with Terri the Snow Transvestite, who I built on my bedroom windowledge. Here's a picture of him/her for you all to enjoy.
Christmas approaches, and as is customary in this part of the world, I thought it would be proper to festoon our balcony with twinkly lights. Several years ago I bought a set of those 'snow lights', you know, the ones with strands of fairy lights hanging down so it looks like icicles or snow hanging off the roof or whatever? So anyhoo, after about 4 years of loyal service, the fairy lights were looking a bit the worse for wear, so we decided to get a new set.
With that in mind, we set out for our local DIY store (part of a scurrilous chain that once were fortunate enough to count me among their employees) and headed straight for the Christmas section. Of course, what with it being less than a fortnight before the big day, pickings were decidedly slim in the fairy lights aisle. The only ones left were either ridiculously expensive or ridiculously tacky, or both. We had almost lost hope, when we came across a box of 320 'Snowing' lights. Pretty much the same as what we had before, except that they were multifunction - not my preference - but given the circumstances I can totally live with that. 'Job done' we thought, and headed home.
That was when the fun started in earnest. Our apartment is at the corner of the building, so our balcony is what estate agents would refer to as "dual aspect" - it covers two sides of the building- so getting the lights up each year is a bit tricky. Firstly, they have to go out a window, then along the railing on one side, then around a pillar in the corner, and along the railing on the front. It's not too bad if you've just got a length of standard lights, but with these snow lights it's much more difficult, seeing as they get tangled up with everything they come in contact with (the BBQ, potted plants, the dog, my crutches, you get the idea). All this was compounded by the fact that a) I'm on crutches and b) it was absolutely freezing out, so trying to hold the wires along the metal railings while we secured them with cable ties got increasingly tricky as we made our way around due to severe numbness setting in to my hands and fingers!
So after much swearing and disentangling, the lights were up and looking spiffy! We only lost one finger and three toes to frostbite, so it was considered a success all around. I went to bed filled with festive cheer, looking forward to dreams of sugar plum fairies and other Holiday clichés.
When I awoke this morning, I stumbled into the living room to turn on the lights and grab a cuppa, and all seemed normal. As I sat on the sofa enjoying my Lyons (it should have been Barry's Gold Blend but that's another story), I noticed that there seemed to be fewer lights on the balcony than there had been yesterday. On closer inspection I discovered that no fewer than 15 out of the roughly 40 strands of lights weren't working!! So now, we've to go through the whole rigmarole in reverse, pack the lights back in the box - which, thankfully, I didn't put in the recycling - and drive back to the store to return them. Then, presumably, we'll have to find another set of lights and repeat the entire debacle tomorrow night. Oh the fun.
.... They just happened to be two things within my line of sight when I was thinking up a name for the blog! Yeah, I know, as far as things to be just sitting around my living room, they are pretty random. Maybe I should explain how they came to be here....
Well it all started about two weekends ago, when I woke up (probably around noon, if I'm being honest) and looked out my window to see that the snow had been the night before. Wonderful! Snow and I have a bit of a love/hate relationship, in that I love how it looks, but I hate pretty much everything else about it. Actually, it would be more correct to say that I have mixed views on snow. To say that we have a relationship is simply presumptuous; I have no idea how snow feels about me.
Anyhoo, when I looked out and saw the snow, a feeling of dread came over me. It was too early for me to feel 'Christmassy', and all I was thinking was 'How the hell am I going to get to work if this isn't gone by Monday?'. Our apartment is in a complex at the base of the Dublin mountains, and you have to go up a fairly steep hill to get out. The hill is also really bendy, so basically if there's any sort of snow or ice on it, it becomes a real battle (not to mention incredibly dangerous) trying to drive out. I should also that I'm incredibly accident prone. Over the last year I've been in A&E twice, and the last time it snowed, I fell and broke my wrist, so I was not relishing the thought of having to walk to work. As the day wore on, it became increasingly obvious that the snow was not going to be gone by Monday, and seeing as venturing outside was basically taking your life into your hands, I amused myself by looking out the window and watching people with rear-wheel-drive cars trying to get up the hill.
Sunday morning dawned brighter than usual, because the light was reflecting off the chilly white stuff covering all and sundry outside. We walked to my parents' house for dinner on Sunday evening, and it was the start of things to come for the rest of the week. Before going to bed on Sunday night, I got my stuff ready for the following morning, knowing that it was going to be an early start and an unpleasant commute. As I lay in bed waiting for sleep to come, I said a silent prayer to whatever deity out there was listening: "Please, please, please make the snow go away!". Alas, my days of neglecting religion seemed to have bitten me in the ass, the snow fell thick and fast all night.
Monday morning, 7am, sprang from my bed and away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutter and threw up the sash (or just opened the curtains), hoping the snow gods had answered my prayers, but seeing (for feck sake) the snow was still there. I lumbered into my snow gear (hiking boots, ski socks, tights under trousers, several layers of sweaters, coat, scarf, hat, ski gloves and backpack with work clothes in it) grabbed my homemade walking pole, and left the house at 7.30 for the 7km trip to the office. The first day's walk was rather pleasant. The snow was actually nice and crisp outside, it was easy to walk on, and it wasn't too cold out. The only downside was it took me nearly 2 hours to get to the office, a total pain in the arse when using the car takes 20 minutes tops.
Tuesday morning was a repeat performance, only this time it was slushier and not so nice. My wonderful husband had procured me a set of Alpine Trekking Poles on his way home from college, so I had those to help me out. And it was a good thing too, because there were icy patches where I could very well have ended up on my arse in front of traffic had it not been for the poles. Of course Tuesday was the evening where I decided to be crafty and get the bus home (well, not right home, because no busses come where I live. I would be getting a bus that would drop me about 20 minutes from my apartment. At least that was the plan.). So I researched the times, and waited at the stop outside work. Now, I knew the bus might take a while, what with snow turning even the most sensible of drivers into complete maniacs or terrified noobs, but I figured it'd be more comfortable sitting in a warm vehicle rather than trekking uphill for 7km in Arctic conditions. I couldn't have been more wrong.
After 2 hours on the bus, we were told that it couldn't go any further and we'd all have to get out. This was leaving me with at least another hour's walk to get home. Trying to ring my husband to tell him this was mortifying, because I discovered, to my disgust, that trying to use an iPhone while wearing ski gloves is totally impossible. Instead, I had to type with my nose, so in trying to phone my husband, I accidentally called my Dad and both my sisters before I finally hit the right number. Hubby had bought me a pair of YakTrax on his way home from college, so he started walking to meet me halfway and put them on me. It was just as well he did, because the higher up I got, the snow just got deeper and deeper, and any places where I had to cross a road were lethal. By the time we got to our apartment the snow was almost knee deep, the roads were just lined with abandoned cars and the smell of burning gearboxes permeated the air as people tried to force their cars up a hill that provided less traction than a sheet of polished glass.
Wednesday, or as I called it, Day 3 of Snowmageddon, involved another massive trek to work. Conditions were considerably worse, and it was basically a white-out as I walked down. The only plus side was that the snow was falling so heavily that there was basically nothing on the roads, so waiting at pedestrian lights wasn't necessary. I looked like the abominable snowman when I arrived at work, I was white from head to toe! Luckily that day the roads were a bit better, and one of the girls in work dropped me halfway home, so the remaining walk only took about an hour. At this stage the snow by my apartment was over the knee.
Thursday morning (stay with me, we're nearly there!!) I set off for another arctic trek. It was safe to say that any novelty associated with the snow had definitely worn off. My walk started off as normal, until I went and stepped into a pile of slushy snow. Instead of stopping when my foot hit the ground, my whole leg just kept going, and my knee bent up the wrong way! Gross! So my first reaction was to almost vomit, (thankfully I didn't because arriving to work covered in puke would not be a good look!), second reaction was to cry, just a bit, cos it was so cold it hurt! Then, I think shock may have played a part in this, I decided to continue walking to work. By some miracle, I actually made it in on time, although by the time I got there I was in a lot of pain and was starting to worry that I'd hurt myself really badly.
By the end of the day I was pretty sure I'd done some sort of damage, so one of my friends kindly dropped me to the VHI clinic, where I was X-Rayed and they informed me that they think I might have torn my Cruciate Ligament. Woohoo!! To make matters worse, the snow was getting so insane outside that it was impossible to get a taxi anywhere, so we had to walk for another 2 hours to get home (note the walk really should only have taken 40 minutes at most, but what with me being crippled it took a LOT longer).
So, basically for nearly the last fortnight I've been on crutches and my kneecap now resembles some sort of mutant grapefruit. I've had an MRI, which wasn't as scary as I thought it would be, although the assless hospital gown was definitely not the most flattering ensemble I've been sporting this season. They even gave me a DVD of my MRI, which, while interesting, was decidedly gross. And I got a far more in-depth look at my leg fat than I really needed. I know it's there, I don't need to see a cross section of it, thanks very much!
So that explains where the crutches bit comes from, now as regards the gingerbread, well that's quite simple. My husband was at the shops today and brought me a Gingerbread House Kit, so I spend the evening happily up to my elbows in icing and little sweets while creating a lovely, albeit structurally questionable, house.
Well if you've stuck with me up to now, I sincerely thank you. I hope this has been somewhat entertaining. I shall certainly try to keep future posts much shorter, although it's only fair to warn you that I do have a tendency to ramble (in case you hadn't already figured that out!). As a reward for reading this far, here's a lovely picture of my delightful Gingerbread house, and with the way the economy is at the moment, there's a good chance this is as close as many will come to the real thing!!
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