Lowestoft Airshow is a big free two day airshow on the seafront, an interesting event to try and tackle. Last year I went to one day and stayed home the other. The day I went was great, I had friends and we had fun, everyone was ok about stopping for rests, and with my flat being so close to the main seafront "arena" we had an area we could go to for shade and drinks and rests. The day I stayed home wasn't so good. Have you ever tried sleeping while there's a battle re-enactment involving planes, guns, warships and so on just a couple of hundred metres away? Not to mention various display teams and bombers and helicopters and whatnot coming in overhead all day. The flat vibrates and not in a good way either.
Of course none of it compares to spending the full two days out and about, flirting and dancing and going on the fairground rides and generally having a ball all over the place, but let's be realistic.
So I'm praying that I'll be able to get out and about again this time round. However it's a lot hotter this year, and I'm having a worse time of it, so I'm not hopeful.
Woken up by a pair of builders demolishing a wall outside the flat. There's a lot of this sort of thing - people who can work flexitime want to get their hours out of the way before the flight-time gets started so that they can go and enjoy proceedings with their friends and families.
I glare out of the window to see if I can demolish the wall for them with my Laser Eyes of Doom but fail, so I take in the knowledge that it's a beautiful day and resign myself to the pounding of the sledgehammers.
Settling back, I start to stretch and realise that while today isn't a Bloody Awful day, I won't be going to the airshow. Even if someone pushes me in my wheelchair I wouldn't be able to manage more than an hour, tops. Unfortunately there is one thing I have to do, and soon...
I head out to the Co-Op, which opens at 8am. Luckily it's only a block away and all I really need is some fresh milk (it's going off quicker than usual in this heat) and some fruit juice. The streets are already more crowded than they would usually be on a Thursday at any time of day, because every other local has had the same thinking as me. By 10am you won't be able to move here for tourists, much less get the things you want at the shop.
The lovely staff let me put my shopping in two bags and carry them back to my flat one bag at a time. I hadn't realised my arms were that weak today, but at least my legs, although painful, are bearing up.
Flights have started. Fighters by the sound of it. Flying in from the sides, so at least they're not rattling the windows by flying in over the houses like they have done before.
The earplugs are making the sound a lot easier to deal with though - I can still hear but it's very muted.
I could still hear the flat buzzer through the earplugs, which is a good thing because Pip turned up at the flat. Crisis time, he's broken up with Davina. Obviously we don't need the ins and outs of it on my blog, but I can't pretend that I'm upset about it - relieved would be more accurate. Anyway, the two of us got into a taxi with the littlun and went back to his, where we can still hear the planes (especially the bombers) but not at a level where we need earplugs.
Feeling slightly disturbed that Pip has phoned one of his friends to see what's happening this evening - and Davina is still with them. Although he didn't say it out loud, I reckon he was thinking roughly what I was, which involved words like "loyalty". Pip as a father is having some of the same issues I as a disabled person am - he's just not always a "convenient" person to spend time with, having to think about his son and nap time and buggy-access and all the rest of it.
Littlun's had an extraordinarily long nap which means he'll be awake enough to go and SEE the firework display tonight (as opposed to being woken up by it and crying for ages).
Pip drops me home and heads out to look for the group, and after a quick check of messages I curl up in bed. I've been having little dozes on the sofa at Pip's house while Littlun napped and Pip played on the playstation and got some stuff out of his system, but I need some proper sleep.
Poxy fireworks. Poxy window-rattling fireworks. Gaa.
Poxy people singing in the road. Gaa.
Poxy chav woman yelling an argument with someone I presume to be her boyfriend over the phone.
Love, if you don't want to speak to him, stop answering your sodding phone! I'd put the earplugs in but it's not such a good idea to have them in overnight.
They've got to run out of phone credit or battery soon. People all over the street are leaning out of their windows and telling her to shut up, so she's alternating betwen yelling at her phone and yelling at them to "mind their own fuckin' business" to which the unanimous answer is "we'd love to!"
Oh thank god.
Excited tourists coming back from the beach (or possibly from Ness Point) yelling to each other about how exciting it was to see the sunrise from the most Easterly point in Britain. The sunrise is a beautiful thing, it's true, but did you have to wake me up about it?
Alarm goes off for me to give Steve his wake-up call. To my shame I hit it and rolled over and fell asleep again. But when I called later, it rang and rang so I assume he was in the shower.
Digging up the road outside my flat commences. I guess that means it's a new day and time for a new post...