And she's back!

After a long period of absence the Monkey lady is back! Thank you for bearing with me dear reader. I have not been a well Monkey for some period of time. Depression, like many mental health conditions, creeps up on you without you really realising that things are getting worse until, suddenly, even waking up is a chore that requires a strength of will equal to climbing Everest whilst carrying a portly Shetland pony. Still, some new pain medication for my physical problems has had a knock on effect of raising my spirits & energy levels...and so here I am, back & not defeated! The addition of some spring like weather has certainly helped! The daffodils are in bloom and my newly sown seeds are sprouting through their compost.

And so, a little catch up is required, me thinks. This is also a chance to do a little review of the past year as I have been up to so much.

There are a couple of new additions to the Monkey house; Isabel  & Sebastian. They are beautiful, tabby kittens; brother & sister. They are playful, affectionate and gentle. Perfect additions to our little home (read big, drafty hovel) and yet more evidence of Ms Monkey's inevitable decline into mad cat lady hood. These small balls of cuteness are a source of perfect amusement & comfort. Eldest son, Gee, has decided that Isabel is his...although his interest extends to a quick cuddle before shooing her in my direction. The extent of his affection does not extend to feeding or cat litter duty! Dude adores the kittens, although they do not compare to his beloved Jake (who has now gained the moniker 'The Big, Black, Fluff Ball of Malevolence, owing to his bad tempered demeanour . However, he is a little rough with them, which means that they generally avoid him where possible. They generally spend their evenings curled up on my lap. As they are now a few months old and gaining in size, although they will always be somewhat diminutive  I suspect, this is becoming a little uncomfortable. Still, they provide an additional supply of free heating in the evenings, although their interest in my knitting is a little tiresome! I won't say that the other cats have welcomed them into their midst, but a level of bemused tolerance exists, which I am more than happy with. Only poor old Po has been directly affected as he has been ousted from his seat by the radiator. He has always been a timid chap, so has been far to polite to point out their little indiscretion...he has now moved to the top of the bookcase, which now results in a shower of fluff and dander, whenever I pull out a recipe book...I think he may find that access to his post may return with the advent of sunny weather.

If that isn't an Aw moment, I don't know what is!

Dude has been having a troubled time at school lately. His autism means that everything is very black and white and this particularly applies to rules. If any of his peers commits a transgression Dude feels obliged to make a report. This has led to him being labelled a 'tell tale' and 'grass.' Subsequently, he has been on the end of some pretty nasty behaviour  Still, things are starting to move in the support area thanks to the involvement of Parent Partnership. The first multi-agency meeting (TAC) has taken place and although I am glad to see things moving along, I am still not convinced that he is going to receive appropriate support...a case of wait & see at the moment. Hmmm....

As usual, the past year has been peppered with its usual dusting of calamities. The culmination of which has been the usual festive disaster trio...first the broadband slowed to a trickle the week before Chrimbo. Not so much of an issue for me as I could still access e-mail and Amazon (I am typing this on the 3G of my phone), but for teenage son with a shiny new copy of Black Ops, it was the end of the world. Then, during the awful storms, just before chrimbo, the leak in the kitchen roof became a waterfall...but not the picturesque kind. The piece de la resistance happened on Chrimble day itself, when the oven element died half way through cooking the big feast. Grilled turkey anyone? Unfortunately I do not have the financial wherewithal to fix any of these 'little' problems at the moment...and, to add insult to injury, the tumble dryer is making wonkey noises & it's the MOT next month...hey ho!

Any old hoo...I promised you a review of the year and so here it is. In pictures...because pictures say a thousand words and with our Internet speed, it will take as long to upload a picture as type them!

There has been quite a lot of THIS this year...yes Ms Monkey has been privileged enough to see The Damned THREE times!

Warrington, May 2012

Ms Monkey has been lucky enough to make some fabulous friends via Twitter, who all share a passion for this wonderful bunch of old punks. The Twitter #damnedclub all met up in Warrington, a blisteringly cold town oop north, and shared a beer or two while enjoying the fabulous tunes and general silliness that is The Damned. As you know, Ms Monkey has a bit of a crush on Mr Vanian and it was wonderful to see that he still has it...albeit with slightly looser fitting trousers! In June the band came to Falmouth, just down the road as twere and Ms Monkey got to sit right at the front! Heaven! And in December there was Bristol, where once again #damnedclub reconvened and Ms Monkey got frostbite because of over enthusiastic air conditioning! Ms Monkey didn't get to meet Mr Vanian this year, although The Captain's private rendition of 'Happy Talk' outside the stage door at Bristol more than made up for it!

Reach out and touch me! I was that close...OK, maybe a bit of zoom.

I also got to go here twice, but sadly not for the members party, as rain stopped play...a lot of rain!

River Cottage...not under a foot of water, may it remain so!

So no Hugh this year...no celebs at all but I did get to converse with Rufus Hound, Marcus Brigstock and Mark Diacano, albeit on Twitter. And then there was the famous Usain Bolt re-tweet, which leads me onto:

Teenage son strikes the pose of 2012 (not the Mobot), later re-tweeted across the globe by Usain Bolt

Yes, great fun was had by all at WOMAD. As I spend a great deal of time in a wheelchair I found that the festival was really well thought out for the disabled visitor. It would be interesting to see how they coped with a wet, rainy year....actually, it wouldn't! May the sun always shine on WOMAD! Not going this year, I still have to pay Ms Raven and Mike back for last year's! Still, Dude enjoyed it. Which for a lad with sensory overload problems was a fantastic result. Besides, Ms Monkey discovered the wonderful Correspondents there...I would really like to see them again!

Uncle Mike and Dude up to some festival horse play

Ms Monkey also went to see ABBA this year...well, almost! Ms Monkey and Mrs McGregor went to see Bjorn Again in Falmouth....did we dress up? Of course we did! And we sang along!

There weren't many opportunities to get out and about this year, so this was definitely the year of the cocktail...quite a few were consumed!


Strawberry Daiquiri...don't mind if I do 

To finish the year off, the delightful Mr Payer popped down for a visit; to help fix a few bits on the house and to flirt outrageously with Mrs McGregor...I hasten to add that Mrs McGregor is now a 'single lady' and so no impropriety occurred.  Whilst Mr Payer was here, I had the pleasure of introducing him to the marvellous Tehidy Woods. A wood filled with some of the most beautiful trees one can imagine and Mr Payer is a child of nature...Twas like being with a child on Christmas morn!

Mr Payer communes with one of nature's giants!

And of course, Ms Monkey gave up smoking...still ciggie free five months later! Although you will have to prise my e-ciggie from my cold, dead hands! I am not ready to give up that emotional crutch just yet! And so to finish, here is a fabulous picture of hundreds of Santas parading through our local town...the boy's school did a sponsored Santa walk, as you do!

A small section of Santas...now you know how he gets to be everywhere at once!

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

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!

Sometimes, things don't go according to plan...

I had a whole list of things planned for this week, but, whilst Monday started well, by the afternoon I could barely walk and had got myself into a right tizz! Could trimming a couple of shrubs on the Sunday have done this?...Unlikely, it was more likely reading about the coalitions plans for 'refining' DLA that sent me into a trough.

I am sick and tired of being demonized by Cameron and his cronies. The figures speak for themselves for goodness sake! 0.5% of DLA claims were found to be fraudulent, meaning that 99.5% are genuine, and yet the government wants to reduce claiment numbers by 20%...not by finding cures...just by making it impossible for a large percentage of disabled people to qualify. Under new proposals the lower rate for adults will be removed...this is the rate that I'm on for my depression. I don't qualify for mobility at the moment, and no, I don't understand why either! It will be worse for children; with plans to remove both lower and middle rates. Currently, to qualify for higher rate, you have to require care during the night. This means that countless, highly disabled children, who sleep at night, will no longer receive money.

It doesn't end there, the implications of this are that their carers will no longer qualify for 'carers allowance'. This means no access to 'income support' and will force them on to 'job seekers', where they can then be penalised (with reductions in benefits) if they refuse to accept employment or attend job clubs, when their children may require full-time care. It's worth reading the report which you can find at www.ekklesia.co.uk/files/response_to_proposed_dla_reforms.pdf  and if you haven't already please sign the petition before tuesday 10th January, which is when the governments proposals come before parliament. That can be found at: http://epetitions.direct.gov.uk/petitions/20968.

Whether this fear for the future has been the cause of my health dip this week is a matter for conjecture. But it certainally hasn't helped!! I now find myself sleeping for 13-14 hours a day, unable to rouse myself, even with the prolonged cacophany of the workers building the new bridge span beneath my window at seven in the morning....zzz