Abscence makes the heart...

Well, Ms Monkey is still feeling slightly guilty at neglecting you all. During February I have had honoured guests to stay and, as it was a birthday celebration, I felt that sitting with my nose in my laptop may have been a tad rude. As I managed to squeeze in at least two hours of The Damned over the weekend (I see people so rarely these days that my Goth tends to runneth over) I feel that I would have been on thin ice to squirrel myself away for a couple of hours to wax lyrical......besides, there were cocktails and birthday cake that required my undivided attention!

One of the lovely things about seeing friends is
 the opportunity for scintillating conversation

It's always lovely to see old friends; I regard them as my family. My close family have all passed away now. I have an uncle, somewhere in London, but we are not in contact and an Aunt and Uncle, with cousins, in the wilds of Canada. I also have some second cousins, several times removed, who I meet up with occasionally and exchange the odd email with. But I am basically an orphan, alone in the world...woe is me (although it doesn't half make events like xmas pass without a hitch!)! And so my friends are my family, we pick each other up and dust each other off, whenever we fall....I seem to fall a lot but they are wonderfully indulgent (and Ms Monkey's past involves a lot of 'daring do', when perhaps it should have involved a little 'daring don't'!).

It was my dear friends McMarkie and Juice who came down to visit. Markie has always been the little brother I never had; although he spends more time looking after others than the description suggests. It was his 41st birthday this weekend (I suppose I should ask him if I am allowed to say his age....ah well, what's done is done) and it was decided that the weekend would be spent sipping [sic] cocktails (quaffing is not really the etiquette for cocktails, but hey, do I look like Miss Manners?), going to the tip (Adios broken tumble dryer, Welkomen and Bienvenue newish tumble dryer - see The delights of housework) and wandering along the beach......tide permitting.

Shaken or stirred? Nah, blend it to within an inch
of its life!

I will be writing an entry regarding those wonderful cocktails, there were some oldies and a few new ones that we tried, which are well worth passing on and perfect for finishing off those left overs  from xmas.....if you still have any.

One thing I always tend to do, when friends are down is push myself. I still want to do all of the things I used to do....not necessarily all the things. (Downing an entire bottle of vodka on the way to a gig and not remembering most of the evening, until coming round on the floor of a public toilet is one of the things that can stay very firmly in the past! There are others, but somethings cannot be spoken of in polite circles....and not so polite circles!)


Sadly, I am not able to do all of the things I used to, although a visit to the beach is a must. Needless to say, disabled access to the beach in question is non-existent, so no chance of using my wheelchair! And so, walking is a must. Unfortunately, these days, I can no longer manage 'walking pace' and snails tend to hair past me on the straight. I, therefore, spend quite a bit of time walking on my own, until the party of intrepid explorers notice that they are down on numbers!
Although not the closest beach to chez Monkey, our favourite beach on the North Coast has to be Gwithian. It is part of St Ives bay, but remains untouched by the usual plethora of 'Kiss me Quick' tourist tack shops. It boasts a toilet, life guard hut, surf shop and two small cafes. But mostly if has miles of sand and a collection of interesting rock pools; stacked with fish and crustaceans, who patiently await the mandatory poking and prodding of small children (and not so small children! Ms Monkey is known for her persistent attempts to catch anything that scuttles or swims, whilst ignoring the constant litany of 'this is boring' from her small brood).

This is why I live in Cornwall! Not sure what Lolli has seen, but she's not noticed that wave behind her!

To the Lighthouse. Godrevy Lighthouse, made famous by Virginia Woolf

During the winter, this stunning bit of the coastline is open to our four legged companions (during the summer they are only allowed on in the evening, which is incredibly annoying as it means that the only part of the beach available to mutts is down a precarious cliff side descent, which anybody with a fear of heights or any type of mobility problems would be unable to tackle. I have tried reasoning with the dog wardens that I just want to use the stairs and 100 yards of beach to pass through but have been threatened with a £200 fine. Bloody jobs Worth's if you ask me!). Because Lolli cannot be trusted on a beach with sand dunes (she has a tendency to bugger off looking for rabbits and only coming back when she's good and ready....which can be in fifteen minutes or, on one occasion 5 hours) this beach is ideal for her. It is her dream to one day catch a seagull (although it will have to be a lame, flightless, blind and hearing impaired seagull).

Having a lovely time. Wish you were here....but only if you have cocktails!

Until next time dear friends xx

An apology

It has been too long dear reader, since I was last here and I must apologise for my neglect but I have had a flare up of my condition. And so, I feel I must put my serious head on for a little while and tell you a little of my story.

I suffer from two health problems which lead to my disability; I have chronic pain syndrome as a result of polyarthropy, caused by what they believe to be multiple-connective tissue disorder. In other words I have faulty wiring which causes my immune system to attack all of my connective tissue (that's the white stuff that isn't muscles and fat). You think your joints pop? Well mine crackle and crunch and grind! I feel as if I have gone rusty and all of my joints ache constantly (except my back....so far that's good....shhh). I try to stay active, as much as possible, but the pain is restricting...I also have a tendency towards inflamed bursa...these are sacs that cushion the joints and bones; typical inflammations are those of 'house maid's knee' or tennis elbow'. I have them under my heels and on my 'sit upon', which makes both standing and sitting painful, I am also prone to tendonitis as a result of favouring certain joints when I'm in pain.

So with all that you won't be surprised to learn that I have clinical depression as well, although to be fair, that was a condition diagnosed before my physical problems really started. People seem to die around me, a lot! (you have been warned) And it was not dealing with these deaths that triggered the depression in the first place....Now it's like an old friend (a not particularly welcome one, who overstays their welcome and has far too many annoying habits) who comes to visit at the most inconvenient times. Now let me be straight about this, depression is not 'feeling misereable' and a bit listless. Depression is crushing; it's rigour without death, an all encompassing ennui. 

Depression fluctuates, for months I plod along with low levels of depression, I can muster the energy to do a few of the day to day things needed for survival. I managed to obtain a reasonable degree (2:1), over the last three years, although not without additional support and countless extensions. But I was determined to finish it, even with another death in the family just towards the end. The fact that I handed in incomplete assignments at the end of the course should have warned me that things were going to explode at some point. Depression is a constant battle and the minute you relax it swamps you like a dark cloud. With me, I shut down and retreat. I sleep for twelve/thirteen hours a day. I don't contact anybody; I can't even bring myself to use a telephone. I stop dealing with the day to day stuff, bills don't get paid, clothes don't get washed, meals don't get cooked....life just grinds to a halt. And that's when the guilt sets in...followed by the paranoia; until even this becomes too much effort. Life becomes a constant battle against inertia. Just being alive requires every ounce of energy and difficult tasks (such as writing this or eating, for example) get pushed to one side.

Churchill, a famous sufferer of the condition (although how he managed to deal with it, run a country and win a war I have no idea!), likened his depression to a black dog, with whom he would fight. It's an interesting allegory. I often liken mine to being stuck down a well, on some days you can climb up high enough to see the daylight, but on others the sides are slick and you cannot get a purchase on them.

So, if Ms Monkey is not about for a while, do not take offence. Sometimes the world is just too big a place and Ms Monkey needs to sit in a darkened corner, listen to dark music and eat lots of chocolate (dark chocolate of course!). I hasten to add, this does not make me an emo.....I have no desire to slice lumps out of my flesh, no desire to throw myself dramatically from a cliff top and no desire to be miserable! Besides, emos weren't invented when Ms Monkey was a 'young thing'!

Until next time mes amis xx

Matthew Johnstone. Copyright SANE

A foraging we will go...better yet, get someone else to do it!

As many of you will know, Ms Monkey is an avid forager! Come late summer I can normally be found, fighting the brambles and up to my arse in spiky foliage, on the quest for various berries to make ingenious, normally alcoholic, concoctions. But at this time of the year there is little greenery about to be of interest, however, now is a fabulous time for shellfish! I will eat any kind of sea creature and the best kind are those you have foraged yourself! Nothing beats taking a stove on to the beach and rustling up a few 'moules mariniere' fresh from the ocean. The sweetness of these wee morsels cannot be over emphasised and I have a few choice spots where I can forage mussels, oysters, shrimps, whelks and winkles, but one little beastie has always evaded me. The Razor Clam (Ennis sp. and Solen marginatus). Now this little blighter lives under the sand, well under the sand...

Now, our local beach provides plenty of shells, ergo, the clams must be there somewhere. However, the mouth of Hayle Estuary is not a good place for food foraging, the intense industrial activity in the estuary during the Nineteenth Century has left heavy metal deposits amongst the sands (although I've yet to find patchouli smelling, greebos hiding out within the dunes!). I have to say, that shell fish, generally, are often found to be containing heavy metals. Providing one isn't about to embark on a shellfish only diet, then one should be fine. Still, I plan on staying away from the mouth of the estuary. Fishermen take lobsters and crab from elsewhere in the bay, so I am assuming that it's perfectly safe. If I start mutating, I will let you know!

Anyway, back to the plot... Now Razor Clams have a tell tale, keyhole shaped siphon hole. But I have never seen any!! Now, I suspect that there may be some dwelling over in Mounts Bay, but the problem is that I never seem to be over that way on a spring tide, or if I am I do not have a pot of salt with me. Salt, I hear you ask? Yes indeedy, the trick is to pour salt into the siphon hole, this will make the Razor Clam 'pop' to the surface to spit the salt out. Gripping the shell by the the edges, you can, slowly, but firmly, pull the clam to the surface. The rules for commercial landing state a minimum of 10cm, so best to let anything smaller go. All parts of the clam are edible, except for the grey stomach. The tastiest part (apparently), is the foot, which when cooked, looks a little like a flaccid....ahem...gentlemans' part! These little devils can be cooked in a variety of ways; barbecued, grilled, boiled etc. They are ready as soon as they cease to be translucent.

Well, I had still to taste these elusive bivalves, so you can imagine my excitement when I received a text from Mrs McGregor saying "At 5pm I shall be sauteing Razor Clams with garlic and shallots, how much do you love me?" Well my answer, as I'm sure you can imagine, was effusive! One of Mrs McGregor's friends had retrieved these whilst diving (the cheater!). At 4.45, Dude and I shot from the house, breaking all sorts of speed laws and possibly one or two laws of physics as well. Well, we arrived just in time for the feast to begin and I can assure you, we licked the plates clean. I would describe the flavour as rich and meaty, whilst also sweet. Only Dude was brave enough to eat the foot...although, as I have previously mentioned, it is, supposedly, the most tasty bit. Next time I will have more courage...

Of course, there has been another bonus from our marine plunder...dozens of razor shells, for converting into mobiles and wind chimes....and the cats got the scraps, well Tyson did anyway...nothing went to waste!!

I can feel a project coming on...

From the mouths of babes...

At the request of my dear friend Lorna, (you didn't ask for a pseudonym, so you didn't get one!), I am dedicating a little section of this blog to some of the things that my son, Dude, comes out with, that either make me want to laugh till I cry or just leave me standing there with my mouth hanging open like a gob smacked goldfish.

As I have already explained, Dude has a condition related to Autistic Spectrum Disorder and this means that he sees the world in a much more literal way to everybody else. He doesn't always understand the social rules that govern the rest of us and tends to blurt out whatever is in his mind at the time: "Isn't it great the hamster's dead? Now we can get another cat." (at the hamster's funeral). Combine this with his above average vocabulary and the results can often be somewhat humorous, at others disastrous. However, this section is not about those social clangers that can leave one squirming, but those blunt, one liners that tickle one's funny bone.

The latest classics follow:

Whilst stood surveying tumultuous rain at the back door, Dude meanders past with a sandwich; "Goodness! It's really chucking it down. I'm guessing the Tories are responsible?"

Whilst I'm playing a Lord of the Rings type video game on the PlayStation, "Honestly Mother! Skyrim is not about exploring random caves, it's about killing dragons and shopping!"

Heave Ho me Hearties!

Well, that time of the year has come around again, when my beloved Pearl needs to get her MOT. I see blank faces.....My beloved car is called The Black Pearl. Yes, it was shamefully ripped off a certain piratical film, but it all fits. She's a big girl and she is black and a bit pearly in colour, rust not withstanding! Plus, we live in Cornwall; the home to British pirates...we hold the world record for the number of pirates in a single gathering:

http://www.thisiscornwall.co.uk/Pirates-Penzance-smash-Guinness-World-Record/story-13920244-detail/story.html

The Argentinians may have had second thoughts about the Falklands after seeing this lot!

Then, of course, there are the Pirates of Penzance (Gilbert & Sullivan opera), The Cornish Pirates (rugby team) and of course our wonderful history of smuggling and wrecking....not to mention our absolute desire to fleece every tourist, out of every last penny they own! How much for a cream tea? Extra cream....that will be extra. £17 for some bit of tack with some shells glued on...a bargain, at twice the price!

One thing I have learned about living down here, is that for six weeks of the year, you stay at home! You try to avoid shopping, turning right across a main road and buying petrol from a main road garage. If you do go out, you can't park anywhere and you can guarantee that you will be stuck in a jam at least once....normally because of some old boy on a tractor....and no, he won't pull over at that convenient layby and let you pass...suck it up...it's tourist season!

Now, I have no objection to tourists....they bring money to what is the second poorest area in the UK. Most people I know down here have jobs because of tourism, either directly or indirectly. OK, most of them are gardeners....but if it wasn't for all of our gorgeous tourist centred gardens, there would be no jobs. And most of the second home owners employ gardeners and cleaners... but wages are low, jobs tend to be seasonal and winter can be a bit bleak. But, we have the beaches to ourselves and we can take the dogs on them.

Now this is the point where I hear all those people who want to cut the benefits saying, why should you have a car if you are on benefits? Well, let's break it down...my nearest shop is over a mile away. I can barely walk 50 yds, certainly not without a stop. My nearest bus stop is over 500yds away, down a steep flight of steps and over rough waste ground...I can't get to it. So I would have to get a taxi, to the bus stop. It gets worse. My nearest Job Centre is in Penzance, 15 miles away. To get there, without a car, I would have to get a taxi to the bus stop or train station, catch said bus or train to Penzance and then I would still be over a mile away from the Job Centre. It's up hill all the way to the Job Centre and there are no buses, I would therefore, have to take another taxi. And yet there is a car park right next door. You can see why I need my car. This is before I can even think of food shopping....

Now I don't qualify for the mobility element of Disability Living Allowance (apparently having proof of my disability from six agencies isn't sufficient), so I have to use my other benefits to pay for it and yet it is regarded as a luxury item by politicians, based in a city that has excellent public transport in the form of trains, buses and tubes. I couldn't even get a bus to the supermarket from my house! And so every year I am left worrying about how I can afford to get my car through another MOT and what is going to happen when I can't. As it is, if I didn't have a credit card I would be stuffed. But what happens when I can't pay that any more?

We even include the car in family photo's!
(2010, we're still waiting for snow this year!)

Luckily this year, it was just the exhaust and a bit of tweaking on the hand brake. The bill will still come to around £400, then there will be the tax in May, that will be another £200+. By then I will have lost out by freezes in tax credits and child benefit, which will soon be followed by the removal of the little DLA I get now, under the new welfare changes. I'm just wondering when the government will be reintroducing work houses and cholera. Put me down for diphtheria, oh....have I been immunised? Damn, how about a bit of rickets or scurvy? I suppose I ought to stick with the goth image and waste away from consumption.... Now wouldn't that be a weight off David Cameron's mind!

Queen of Hearts....

And so it's February the fourteenth...isn't time passing quickly these days?

No, I did not get any Valentine's cards. I wasn't expecting any, so had no sense of disappointment when I opened a bill from the Student Loan Company. Annoyance that, yet again, I have forgotten to send back my deferral form, but no expectation of hearts and flowers. I am content, for the moment, with my single life.

So, what are the advantages of the single life then Ms Monkey, I hear you ask? Well, I can have as many cats as I want, for a start! It also means that nobody but myself and the Government can have claim to the contents of my bank account (and of course the mortgage company, credit cards, utilities, insurance companies etc).....(and when I say bank account I mean extensive overdraft, of course).

It means that I can spend my winters with furry legs and not give a damn...and summers as well if I feel so inclined! I can wear saggy pyjamas and furry slippers. I can wear my hair short and dye it sky-blue-pink....or black! I can bring dead birds back from the beach without anybody thinking I'm slightly deranged. OK, that one is a bit of a grey area, as my children have made several comments on the strangeness of my behaviour and Dude, who had to travel in the car with the corpses (which were a little ripe), made several allusions to the state of my mental health....the dog thought it was awesome, however!

Do I miss anything about being single? Well, there are those moments when it would be nice to share a feeling or an emotion...but those are fleeting moments. And the intimacy? The 'rumpy-pumpy', I hear you ask? What's wrong with a cup of tea I say? It lasts longer and doesn't make you sleep in the soggy patch! (OK, I do miss that a bit....)

But, I am now so set in my ways it will take a very special Mr Right to win his way into my heart....he will also have to be solvent (and a dab hand at DIY)! As Mr Depp and Mr Vanian are taken (although I hear rumours regarding Mr Depp....) I will happily settle for the companionship of my darling children, my smelly mutt and my feline friends....at least for now!

So, to those couples among you....Happy Valentines Day! To those singletons, Happy Tuesday...I love you all!!







Tummy troubles and ASD...

I just thought I would post an interesting article I found about a bit of research concerning gastrointestinal problems and their link to ASD.

http://blog.autismspeaks.org/2012/02/06/tummy-troubles-studying-the-relationship-between-autism-and-gastrointestinal-disorders/

Dude has long suffered discomfort and constipation and I had no idea that the conditions were related. Luckily we have a very empathic GP, who, whenever I take Dude in, will patiently listen to his descriptions of the problem and use pictures and websites to help Dude get his problems accross....as opposed to ignoring him and asking me! In these times of pressure on the NHS it's wonderful to be able to highlight good practice and I cannot complement my GP enough for his people skills. I don't mind that I often have to wait half an hour to see him because I know that he will take as much time as is needed to get to the root of a problem, rather than only allowing you the ten minutes alloted! Sadly my GP is only available two days a week, which just goes to show the time pressures that GP's already have to deal with. The current plans to shoulder GP's with more responsibility for management of the NHS will surely put more pressure on them to spend time away from their patients....I'm not convinced that this is in any way a positive step!