Things are going well

It's been a great week.

First of all, those persistent Unbloggables that have been filling up large parts of my headspace are now mostly resolved, and I wish I could explain better, but it's Someone Else's Business really.

Secondly, Steve's been paid, and while we're not buying a house/going on holiday/planning a wedding/bathing in Cristal just yet, the light at the end of the tunnel has proved to be sunshine rather than the oncoming train we feared. We have finally been able to make some headway on long-overdue essential expenses as well as a couple of little treats.

So thirdly, I finally have the Panda Silk I have been lusting after since Christmas. I wasn't going to get it yet - at £6.45 per 50g ball it's expensive and technically there are more important things we should be spending money on - but Steve knew I was after it, so when he knew he'd been paid, he got on the phone to Anna at Web of Wool and arranged with her that he would pay for four balls of Panda Silk, for me to choose the colours I wanted when I came in for knitting group. And lo, for Mary did SQUEEE quite a lot before choosing two balls of blue-ey "denim tones" which I think will become socks, and two balls of green-ey "fern tones" which might become a shawl - I'm feeling brave enough to make a careful attempt at lace knitting and I've found an allegedly simple pattern.

Fourthly, and still in the knitting theme, I have finished the knitting for my jumper. I plan to start sewing it up as soon as I've been able to run Bloop around a bit, which I can't do just yet because it's still a bit antisocially early for a Sunday morning.

Fifthly, although you just know I'm going to lose count soon... Remember Georgette the Courgette? Well, she grew and grew and grew some more until she was festooned with very definitely identifiable yellow courgette fruits. And at this point things went runny, because although 101 people have offered 101 recipes for courgette, my kitchen skills for things like safely peeling and chopping and dealing with hot pans and so on are HIGHLY limited, and Steve is suspicious of vegetables in general, and in particular, vegetables that don't even have the courtesy to be green (tomatoes are apparently excused on the basis of being a core component of ketchup).

Not wanting the courgettes to go to waste, I asked our next-door neighbour if she wanted them and invited her to help herself at any time. She seemed very pleased about this, and I was happy too because I like it when I feel like I live in a community, next thing I knew, she offered to put some into a lasagne for us! Which she did, and Steve and I ate it last night with some nice ciabatta bread, and it was delicious and we ate every bit.

uh...

Nextly, I've had the paperwork for my DLA appeal through. This means I've seen the GP's report (short but supportive) and feel confident that yes, the DWP have ignored vast chunks of evidence and the appeal has a good chance.

There is a slight question-mark over getting to the appeal though. It's in a large building (too large for walking, I'd need to be pushed in the wheelchair) in Birmingham (which is too far away for a taxi and community transport has to be pre-booked which wouldn't work for the way home as I don't know how long it will take). I'm not sure, but I really doubt that my representative from the Welfare Rights place is also going to be able to drive me there and back, not to mention sit with me, push the wheelchair, and be a shoulder to cry on if it all goes horribly wrong. Even if she could, it's not her job. Steve should be able to take me and if he can, it's all good, but we have this horror that he might not be able to - you only get 14 days notice of the Appeal date which might not be enough for him to get a day off work - and we don't know if we could find anyone else to help. So on Monday I'm calling the Welfare Rights organisation to see if they have any ideas. They must have experienced this before. Still, at least that'll be an end of it one way or another. Which is a Good Thing.

And Finally, it looks like we might be getting some help from Social Services. No word yet on what you might call Daily help, but apparently as Steve is my sole carer, we're eligible for an emergency scheme whereby if he's suddenly hospitalised or something, an emergency carer will come and "live-in" with me to fulfil his role for up to 72 hours until something more sustainable, such as a short stay in a residential home or additional visiting care, can be arranged. Certain amount of paperwork, but isn't there always.