What about a text phone?

Loving this weather!

You know when it’s sunny like this, I remember what my dream place to live looks like – and it doesn’t include my nutty neighbour.

Ever since I was little I’ve always seen myself to have a place with doors in the bedroom that open up onto a sunshine-filled balcony with an amazing view.

Hmmmmm, does a sash window and a fruit-filled cherry tree count?

Seriously though, something tells me I shall one day have that, but for now, I have my lovely flat and my nutty neighbour.

This week has flown by – what with spinning in my lunch hour and catch ups with Fab Friend and the Singing Swede, it’s hard to believe it’s almost the weekend – and that this time last week, First Ever Friend and I were getting ready for her legal wedding.

Last night, at dinner with the Singing Swede, thoughts turned to her wedding, which is in July. It’s my last wedding of the year – unless anyone gets in there quickly.

Anyway, today I’ve been thinking about text phones. I’ve never had a landline in London as it’s an expense with little benefit for me. But what about a text phone? Mostly I rely on text messages, email and online booking systems to organise my life – indeed, I booked my car MOT in this way just the other day – but sometimes, there is no option of this.

Take yesterday, when I saw a man acting very oddly, shove something down a manhole cover and run away at great speed. It was all a bit dodgy – he wasn’t in a utilities uniform or obviously carrying out work, so and wondered if I should let the police know – but it’s hardly a 999 scenario, which left the option of calling the non-emergency number.

Except, I knew, in all honesty, that I wouldn’t be able to hear and that my confusion could actually cause more panic than necessary – like the time I called the British Gas emergency number to report a gas leak in my flat, from my work phone, couldn’t hear so hung up and then caused mass hysteria at the office when British Gas rang back about the gas leak.

I also got told off by British Gas for hanging up – but I couldn’t hear and there was no available alternative for me.

So yesterday, the only available alternative was a text phone, which I don’t have.

This means that I didn’t report the strange man and the manhole cover, and I have no idea if I should have done.

So today, in my lunch hour, I am going to read up on text phones as I know very little about them. I will also read up on anything else that bypasses the need to make phone calls when there is little alternative.

If UK peeps know of a good solution, please leave me a comment – all advice greatfully received.

DG

x

Deaf Girl in Switzerland

I’m back!

And with a resolution to learn how to type one-handed while standing up on the tube, so that this blog doesn’t get neglected as much as it has been recently.

You see, on the bus, it was easy for me to write my daily thoughts, but on a busy tube train, it’s not such a piece of cake.

And speaking of cake…

…the one I made for First Ever Friend’s wedding was a complete success – give or take a few icing sugar disasters along the way.

The whole week I spent in Switzerland was amazing actually. First there was our trip to the Alps to a town called Grindelwald, where we walked, chatted, admired the 360-degree amazing view and chilled out in an outdoor salt-water Jacuzzi.

What I loved most about being in the shadow of the Eiger, it’s snowy peak some 4,000 metres up, was how wonderfully quiet it was. On the first walk we went on, all I could hear was the rattle of the trains in the distance and the chattering of the millions of Japanese tourists.

The second day saw us take a wonderfully wild flower-strewn walk on the hill opposite the Eiger. Knee-high grass hugged the path, dotted with vibrantly coloured blooms of all different varieties, which in turn were serviced by a mass of bugs.

And it’s these bugs that First Ever Friend could hear throughout the walk. The drone of the flying ones, the click of the crickets and erm… the clanging of the cows wearing bells – OK not strictly bugs, but I couldn’t hear that either.

It was just SO quiet! I loved it.

What I did hear however was a low, large rumble, which we soon realised was caused by some ice breaking off from the Lower Grindelwald glacier. It was such an amazing sound and quite a captivating sight to see the torrent of crumbling ice making its way down the mountain.

There is something quite amazing about Grindelwald – about its location between some of the highest peaks, about its crazy attraction to Japanese tourists, about the fact that the Eiger is right there.

RIGHT THERE!

Of the 300-odd photos I took last week, one third of them are of the Eiger – it’s formidable North Face, it’s backside with the fast-retreating glacier, and it’s gentle snowy slope linking it to its neighbour. I loved it completely.

So it was with sadness that we boarded the train taking us back to the city.

But there was little time to be sad, because there was the official wedding to enjoy, for which I was the witness. This involved standing to the right of First Ever Friend and, well that where I kind of stopped knowing what I was doing.

You see, the ceremony was in German and beyond ‘Ich liebe schnee’ my German is very limited – and my Swiss German is even more limited. So when the registrar said something and looked at me expectantly, it was unsurprising that she got a clueless expression back.

But legally, she couldn’t proceed with the wedding until she was sure I had a clue what was going on. Cue some frantic signaling from First Ever Friend until I realised that if I said ‘Ja’ then things would get moving again. So I said ‘Ja’.

So that was it. I said Ja, they said Ja, we all said Ja and First Ever Friend and Swiss Boy were husband and wife.

Then, all too soon, it was time for wedding number two. As witness for this one, too, my main role was making sure everything went as First Ever Friend wanted it to. From popping her in her rather fantastic dress – and yes, I did cry – to helping her sit down, walk up stairs and all of the other things that become challenging when you’re wearing a big white frock.

It was marvelous! The cake went down a storm, and so relieved was I when it was finally built that I threw my hands up in delight and catapulted white wine and water down Swiss Man from Japan.

And then the party started. The shoes came off and we started to dance… and dance… and dance. And, according to Pa, I did this with such enthusiasm, that people were taking photos of my dancing.

Walking home, up the hill to the flat, I realised how utterly brilliant the whole trip had been and how much I could take away from it. From spending a week with some of my favourite people and making a whole bunch of new friends to discovering that Swiss icing sugar is no Silver Spoon contender and that perhaps I should hem my dresses rather than buy shoes high enough to keep them off the floor.

And finally, I realised that I’ve got itchy feet. I need an adventure…

But quite what it will be yet, I’m not sure.

Happy Father's Day lovely Pa

Today is Thankful Friday and I am thankful for my wonderful Rents.

With Father’s Day on Sunday, and me not going home to see Pa, they have surprised me with the news that they are going to pop down to London tonight to deliver my new folding bike, a suitcase and just say hello.

Aren’t they marvelous?

Or should that be, aren’t I spoilt?

I really am blessed with the most wonderful Ma and Pa. Since the word go, they’ve been 100% supportive of everything I do – and when they’re not completely in agreement, such as the time, aged 16, I dated a plumber who was nine years older than me and tattooed and pierced all over, they keep a diplomatic silence. This was in this instance the best thing to do, as it meant the novelty wore off far more quickly than it otherwise would have done.

They have also helped me move house more times than either of them would care to remember – and usually up five flights of stairs in buildings without a lift. On one occasion, when I was moving 10 minutes down the road, we did the whole move on foot – double mattresses balanced on heads, coat stands, TV units, you name it, everything was carried down the street like some strange carnival procession.

Reading a news article the other day about how children are not as close to their parents as previous generations due to moving away for work and wotnot, I am wholeheartedly proud of the relationship I have with The Rents, of its transition from one of adult/kid to adult/adult, and of the fact that I can now be there for them in the same way that they are there for me.

And what of my lovely Pa this Father’s Day? Well, I hope he’ll be sat on the sofa listening to the not-so-surprise present I have bought him. I hope that he’ll remember, that even though both his children will be in foreign countries on the day, that we love him very much.

And that’s all I’ve got to say really – Happy Father’s Day lovely Pa.

Big love

DG x

PS. Big Bro, this a erm... subtle reminder that it's Father's Day in the UK on Sunday.

Hearing dreams

This morning it was not my ears that let me down, it was my eyes.

You see, while washing my hair in the shower – without my glasses on, obviously – I suddenly became aware of a rather large black blob moving in the corner near my face. And you see the thing is, if I could see it even without my glasses on, that meant that whatever it was, had to be massive.

And, upon throwing my rather steamy glasses on my nose, I discovered that it was indeed massive – all eight legs and hairy body of it.

Now, whenever possible, I do not kill bugs, except clothes moths as they eat my jumpers, so this meant that ‘Operation Rescue Spider’ had to commence.

By this time however, he was staggering about in the steam, and I was terrified he was going to tumble to his death down my plughole, so I moved the shower head direction, leapt out the shower – covered in shampoo – and dashed to my kitchen to grab a glass.

By the time I came back, it was apparent that I should have really just turned the water off, as I was greeted by torrents of water running down the edge of my bath – I had succeeded in flooding my bathroom floor.

Then, I had to open a window – no easy task when you’re covered in shampoo, starkers and the said window only has a blind and isn’t frosted…

I can only hope none of my adjacent neighbours were looking out their windows, because if they had been, they would have seen me, in my birthday suit, hair standing up on end from the shampoo, talking to a spider while popping him gently on the window sill from the confines of a crystal wine glass!

And so, with the spider alive and well and no worse off for his experience, I continued my shower – glasses on this time, incase he left a friend behind!

The chaos this morning reminded me how much I love the fact that glasses make my eyesight perfect in a way that hearing aids fail to do for my hearing.

Sometimes I allow myself to consider what it would be like if there was a hearing aid equivalent to glasses. Just imagine, I could pop them on and hear birds sing, children cry, cats meow and my violin and flute.

It would be amazing if you could be guaranteed a replica of what you once had.

I remember having 20:20 vision. I remember being less deaf. Every day, I manually create 20:20 vision…

But every day I am still deaf.

But maybe one day… here’s hoping.

When I had a hearing cat…

Hello on this rather grey Monday. This week looks set to be a busy one at work, a fun one at play and a lunch-hour-filled one of being yelled at by a very over-zealous spinning instructor.

Last week, three people walked out of her class in the first 10 minutes. I stuck it out and even when she was yelling, ‘MORE, MORE!’ and ‘YOU’RE NOT TRYING!’ at the top of her voice and my little legs could barely turn the bike peddles, I kept thinking, ‘No pain, no gain.’

The following morning it was actually be case of ‘Lots of pain, can’t walk!’ but hey ho, it is actually quite good fun, once you get past the lungs-feeling-like-they’re-going-to-explode warm-up.

Anyway, Deafinitely Girly has something she’d like to share with you. After speaking to someone at Drama Queen’s wedding who works with assistance dogs, I have decided I would very much like a hearing dog.

So today I went online and checked all the criteria and I meet it – the guy at the wedding also confirmed that he thought I would – so I then had a look at how to apply.

So popular is Hearing Dogs for the Deaf that it is not taking new applications until 2012 and there’s a five-year wait for a dog…

*sniff

That seems like an awful long time, and it made me think, if they had more money, would the waiting list get shorter?

If that’s the case, then it’s time for DG to do some fundraising. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet – a sponsored run? Eek! A bake sale? Yum! A sponsored silence? Hahahahahaha ahem…

Well, there are endless possibilities! And lovely reader peeps, I urge you to think of Hearing Dogs for the Deaf as a charity when you next want to raise money. You’ve only got to look at the website to see the amazing difference these wonderful dogs make to the lives of so many people.

I already know what it’s like to have an animal who alerts you to things. When I was growing up and growing deaf, I had a cat called Toddy – he was the kitten of our other cat so I had known him since he was a wriggling ball of eye-closed fur… and he was all mine.

He used to sleep on my bed every night and spend most of his indoor time in my bedroom, too. I once spent a whole afternoon trying to get him to speak and another time, I showed him flashcards to see if he could learn to read.

Unsurprisingly, he could do neither…

But what he could do was alert me to high-pitched sounds that happened in the house when I was at home. This was probably because he didn’t like them, but nevertheless, wherever I was in the house, if there was a high-pitched noise, Toddy would come and find me and bug me until I stopped it.

This worked for our whistling kettle, telephone, smoke alarm, and violin… except I was the one playing the violin and as a result I had a flouncing cat huffing at my feet whenever I practised and, seeing as I was going deafer at this point, I really can’t blame him for wanting me to shut up.

Now, I have my neighbour to alert me to any noises in my flat – she too flounces around in a catty manner, although it’s not nearly as endearing.

But until I get myself a hearing dog, I guess she will just have to do…

Deaf girl on a bicycle

Today is Thankful Friday and I am very thankful that I timed my late lunch perfectly with the break in the apocalyptic London weather. As I write this while munching my Tesco vegetable thing, it’s bucketing down outside.

But actually I am thankful for this too, as we kind of need rain right now…

The thing I am most thankful for this Friday though is that I finally took the plunge and bought a folding bike…

I already have a much-loved, although somewhat neglected, Dutch bike, which has been sat in London Aunt’s alley for the last 18 months after I moved house and lost the keys to all four locks on it.

This bike was evicted last weekend – quite rightly so as it was cluttering up what is normally a minimalist space – and has now gone to a foster home oop norf at The Rents.

So this left me bikeless and, with my neighbour already causing more than enough hassle with her own bikes, I decided I needed one that could live in my flat. So came the idea for a folding bike.

Now, I cannot afford the fancy Brompton ones, nor do these really suit river path jaunts and Richmond Park escapades I intend to go on, so in the end I plumped for a retro looking Raleigh Shopper in lilac… with a basket on the front. On this bike I will either look 100 or 5 years old and I LOVE IT!

Well, I think I love it, as so far all I’ve seen is a picture on the internet and I couldn’t find any online reviews, perhaps because everyone else in the world chooses to buy a better, less embarrassing bike than me, but I think it will suit me just fine.

The wheels are big enough to cope with the wilds of London parks but small enough to fit in my spare bedroom cupboard and there’s a basket for my handbag…

What more does a girl need?

Well, a guarantee of not crashing my new bike would be nice. You see, because of my deafness, I can’t hear cars coming up behind me – although in London you’ve got to pretty much assume there will always be a car coming up behind you…

I also can’t hear emergency sirens… so that’s a bit hair-raising, too.

So I’m just off to Google bike wing mirrors and see what I can find.

And in the meantime, if you see a mad blonde girl on a purple folding bike completely oblivious of everything around her, make sure you wave, I’ll try and wave back!

*Crash!

Losing my volume control

I am here, I promise!

I’m just a little busy right now with my day job…

On a positive note, spending so much time at work at the moment means that I get to eat all my meals here – Marmite on toast, peanut butter on toast, jam on toast, just toast, you name it, I’m eating it with toast at the moment.

Toast really is the most wonderful comfort food. If I was in a burning building and had to save the future of chocolate or toast, I would choose toast – so long as someone else grabbed the toaster.

Anyway, the other advantage of working long hours is that it gives me very little time to experience life with my nutty neighbour. Last night, she was obviously having a tantrum of some kind because she started slamming the cupboard doors that are below my bedroom. But what she forgets is that being deaf, any noise is just like adding colour to my life – with exceptions being bad jazz, bad sopranos and pneumatic drills!

So if she’s trying to frustrate me or annoy me, it’s not really working. It does however make me sad that she’s so intent on us not getting along.

But let’s not think about her.

Let’s talk about my progress on London Underground.

This week I was stuck in a tunnel for no less than 10 minutes, without any placebo Rescue Remedy to hand – OK, so I was thinking all the usual thoughts of, ‘Why do I live in London?’, ‘Why aren’t I in the country?’ etc etc, but I didn’t freak out…

Amazing!

This feel the fear and do it anyway approach is quite life changing. If you’d have asked me six months ago how I’d feel about taking the tube to work every day, I would have probably freaked out. In fact, when I accepted this new job, it wasn’t worries about the new career challenges that kept me awake at night, it was wondering how I was going to get to and from work each day.

Mental, eh?

It’s amazing how the decisions you make can change and shape your life in ways you never imagined. Things that make you braver, things that make you laugh and make you cry. What I’m coming to realise is that if you try to keep out the bad, you also keep out the good. If you only go with the familiar, you miss out on discovering the unknown. And if you choose to stay in the shadows, then no one really notices you.

Thankfully I’ve never had any problem with the last one, mainly because of my frequent loss of volume control.

I’ve bellowed twice today already – one time unwittingly announcing to the entire open-plan office that I was off to the loo.

*cringe

I guess what I am trying to say is – live life today. Don’t let your nutty neighbour get you down. Don’t sweat the petty stuff and don’t pet the sweaty stuff.

And if you don’t hear from me until next week, have a fab Thankful Friday and weekend.

DG

Deaf girl camping

What a marvelous weekend I had.

It was a weekend of learning many things it seems.

Firstly, I learnt that driving at speed down country lanes does tend to scare people who more commonly live in London – poor Advertising Whizz’s husband was at this point regretting asking me for a lift to Drama Queen’s wedding.

I also learnt that putting up a tent in the rain and howling gales is not as much fun as drinking wine in a marquee, which is why we really did leave it until the last minute before pitching my Cath Kidston flowery number in the field.

But the wedding? Well, it was utterly magical. Isolated yet with all the home comforts you could possibly need, the location was quite honestly breathtaking. The marquee was nestled into the hillside overlooking a wooded valley, while a wild-flower adorned arch, where the vows were said, sat over a dip in the hill so we could all watch Drama Queen and the Taxidermist make this amazing commitment to each other.

By some miracle, the rain stopped 10 minutes before the ceremony began, and apart from the gale, it was really quite exquisitely perfect.

At 3.30am, while trying to get to sleep, I learnt that I am not that deaf, because I was able to lie awake listening to the pounding bass still coming from the marquee – the survivors made it through until 5am.

And likewise, at 7.30am, I also learnt that I am not that deaf, when a dawn bugle awoke me calling me to a fry up and cup of tea – teamed with leftover cheese from the night before.

Getting away from the structure of London was so incredibly refreshing. Waking up in a field, the light illuminating my tent, the breeze billowing the top sheet, the birds most probably singing, was relaxing in a way that you just don’t get waking at dawn to the orange glow of the street lamps and the rumbling of the traffic in London.

But trundle back to London I did – and I admit, that after eight years, it does feel as though I am coming home – and it was then I learnt that ladders are not that easy to balance on when you’re holding a pot of bright pink paint and a paintbrush between your teeth.

And so I took a tumble – the bruise and graze on my arm a record of this – and as I was midair, flying through the air, my first thought was, ‘I do hope my nasty neighbor doesn’t complain about the thud I’m about to make!’

But, after recovering from this, I learnt that patience, perseverance and precision are key to painting gigantic cupboards. I have one of those – the middle one – but as a result I discovered that if you have enough of that, then it eventually cancels out the need for the other two.

And, on that note, I’m just off to persevere through the week.

Have a good one peeps.

DG x

Deaf girl sleepwalks

Ever had one of those weeks where if someone could just give you a few more days or even hours to fit stuff in, then it’d go a whole lot better?

I’m having one of those years at the moment. There never seems to be enough time to fit everything in, and while I love the whirlwind that my life is, it is frustrating watching sections of it crumble or simple dissolve into a disorganised mess because I haven’t been able to maintain it.

If only sleep wasn’t so essential, eh?

And it’s sleep I am actually lacking in the most right now as I’ve started sleepwalking again. Not only have I been sleepwalking but I have also been having the strangest dreams, which of course I am never deaf in.

Take last night for example, I was at the wedding of Best Friend and Head Girl’s little sister – she’s already married – and there were these breakdancing priests, and I was wearing Pippa Middleton’s bridesmaid dress and her sister had humungous flowers in her hair that quite frankly looked ridiculous, and the Rents and Penthouse Flatmate were there.

And somewhere in the midst of this, I went walkabout and I know this because I fell over everything on my way until I eventually woke up. You see my flat is in a state of chaos as I am still trying to finish the painting of the new and amazing cupboards in my bedroom so that I can put my furniture back in and hang all my clothes up, and this means that for now, everything is displaced. There is a shoe rack in my hallway, a mattress in my lounge and a Marmite teapot by the front door...

Last night’s main offending item was a 245cm tall sheet of MDF that is currently leaning against the hall wall. It is so big that even when I am awake I have trouble navigating my way around it, so achieving this in my sleep was never going to be that successful. And so, I woke up, hopping, holding my toe and swearing loudly.

Anyway, this week is also all about the lead up to the second wedding of the year. It’s Drama Queen and Taxidermist’s and is in the Wild West erm… Country in a field. She’s a wonderfully creative chick, so I can’t wait to see what her big day will be like.

And it’s these wonderful occasions that will carry me through the lack of sleep, chaotic flat and somnambulating, because let’s face it, love is energizing. Seeing other people’s love, watching them take this amazing step to promise to be with each other until they die, well what could be more inspiring than that? If you ignore the dying part…

And on that joyful note, enjoy the sunshine, peeps. That’s just what I’m going to do.

DG x

Chocolate martinis, subtitles at the gym and a lipreading light

British Gas emailed me this morning to remind me that they needed my electricity meter reading.

They will not be getting it. Regular readers will know that the reason for this is that the meter is in the basement of the old house my flat is part of. This basement has a winding staircase thinner than a supermodel doing a somersault and more spiders than the scary wood in the grounds of Harry Potter’s school.

Paying a bit more for my electricity is just a price I will have to pay until I find someone willing to head down there while I guard the door as given the tensions in my block right now, I would also half expect to find myself ‘accidentally’ locked down there by persons who shall not be named.

Anyway, the last two days have been something of a revelation. Firstly in the form of chocolate martinis – oh my, these are quite something – and secondly in what my gym offers me as a deaf person.

So the martinis – chocolate, tasty and quite refreshing – were sampled yesterday with The Cameraman. We went for a drink before he embarked on a work trip to Samoa and it was lovely to finally meet him properly, chat about random things and discover that the anonymity of my blog makes me comparable to Superman! Hurrah! Although the deciding of this occurred after several of the chocolate martinis had been consumed.

And now he is in the sky, possibly dodging volcanic ash en route to a tiny island in the Pacific Ocean…

I wonder if I have any readers in Samoa?

So the second revelation occurred when I attended the gym today in an attempt to burn the calories of first revelation off! There I was on the bike, which has a snazzy TV screen built in, and while on a hill climb, I started pressing buttons – this revealed a channel list – hurrah for the tosh on E4 – and also…

…drum roll please...

A SUBTITLES OPTION!!!!!!!!!!

Can you believe it? I could actually watch TV, on the exercise bike, in the gym, with subtitles!

It’s when things like this happen that I am reminded about how technology really is developing when it comes to making life easier for deaf people. But while this is all amazing, the real challenge is convincing big companies to make these changes available to us. Cinemas that offer subtitled films every night of the week, DVDs that always have subtitles – even on the special features – and subtitles on films available to buy on iTunes… the list is endless.

And it was while I was thinking about this that I remembered I actually got one of my recent wishes granted last night… by The Cameraman. There we were talking about how I needed a lipreading light for nights in back gardens, BBQs at dusk, camping, and that sort of thing, that didn’t blind my friends, and he suggested downloading a ‘Torch’ app on my iPhone. Most of these are famous for not being bright enough to be torches and just being a white light on the screen, but as a lipreading light, they are perfect… I would highly recommend iPhone peeps downloading a free version of one to try.

So there you have it – three revelations before Tuesday’s out. It really is all good.

Things I can't hear

Good grief, it’s Monday again already.

It seems like only yesterday that I was off to see Imogen Cooper play at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on the Southbank. She was playing Schubert on Friday night with the Takács Quartet.

Now, I love watching and listening to Imogen Cooper play the piano. Her grace and poise is amazing and even if what she’s playing is too high for me to hear, it’s still visually entertaining.

However, what I had forgotten was that she was only playing in the second half – the first half was just the string quartet and the only instrument in the collection that I could hear was the cello.

Bother!

This meant that the first half was largely silent for me, save a few squeaks and pips to accompany what was just a long and quite dull cello solo.

However, the second half improved with the departure of one of the violinists and the arrival of a double bassist and of course the piano. But I still found myself flicking through the program during the higher sections to help keep my mind occupied. I did this as quietly as possible – never really being sure how much noise this actually makes – but just three pages in, the man next to me put his hand out to stop me turning the pages.

I felt like a naughty school kid and felt my cheeks burning up with embarrassment.

Pa however, said that the program wasn’t making any noise so perhaps the grumpy old man just objected to me multitasking.

It is something I have to keep in mind though, as I go about my day-to-day life. I forget things make a noise, such as this very keyboard, which I am hammering away on – to me soundlessly – but to everyone else noisily. Other examples include the clicking sound a retractable ballpoint pen makes and games on my iPhone. These often come with default sound and I am only aware it is on once I notice the death stares other commuters are giving me.

But perhaps the most embarrassing example of this was in my old car, Jennifer, who was a soft top British racing green mini – the old model, not the stoopid BMW version. There I was driving through the tranquil countryside at 2am, after a night out with my car alarm blaring. I had no idea the car even had a working alarm, let alone that it could go off when I was behind the wheel.

Luckily, in this instance, Friend Who Knows Big Words was with me and she was the one that pointed out that perhaps the ‘Wah-woo-wah-woo’ din coming from my tiny little Mini was not normal, and that also perhaps, the neighbours in the sleepy Cotswold village we were in wouldn’t be too pleased with this early morning wake-up call.

But could I get it to stop?

Erm no! So I had to drive the 8 miles home with the alarm still going off.

And in this instance, I was very glad I couldn’t hear it. And Friend Who Knows Big Words? Well let’s just say, it was a while before she got in my car again!!!!

Deaf girl paints cupboards... badly

Today’s blog comes to you typed with brown fingers…

Hmmm, yes you see, Blanco left me with one task regarding my new fitted wardrobes that he has expertly built me, and that was to varnish the inside.

I did this last night and it looks like a chocolate mousse exploded all over the place. There are visible brush strokes, bits that are thicker in some places than others, and the white wall at the back of my cupboard? Well let’s just say it’s not that white any more.

I. AM. ASHAMED.

In my defense, it’s the first time I have ever painted anything really – if you forget the time I painted Whiskey Cousin’s bedroom navy blue and red – and so it was never going to be amazing. But it’s not even halfway to amazing. If my painting was a cake, it’d be flat, burnt and biscuit-like.

And what’s even worse is that I have no way of rectifying this before Blanco comes to hang the fourth and final cupboard door, and possibly me with it. Although I do have a plan…

This morning I rang Pa – who is coming down tomorrow for a concert with Great Aunt Wander Nut and me – and asked him if he could make an emergency dash to Homebase today and pick me up a pot of Lollipop paint. This wonderful paint is the most fabulously, edible sweety-coloured shade of pink.

And it is this shade that I am going to paint the back wall of my cupboards in order to conceal the car crash that is my DIY capabilities.

Unless of course, something goes wrong with that…

But it’s pink, what could possibly go wrong with pink?

Actually, don’t answer that!

Deaf girl bakes

Apologies for the silence these last few blogging days, but I've been caught up in a fog of icing sugar, making cakes for Uni Housemate's wedding.

The big day was amazing – it was a clear display of what true love really is, and what could be more inspiring than that.

And my cakes?

Well, see for yourself:

Happy Tuesday peeps.

DGx