A Very Many Happies for 2008

So 2007 is nearly gone and I'm reflecting back on it. Was it a good year for you? It was a hell of a good year for me! I had two ribs removed to make bone grafts for my hip replacements. I had 2 new hips and three new knees, MRSA and cellulitis.

I sent back the despised wheelchair and have had two zimmers (the 2008 model works very well thank you) lol:-D

I seem to have spent more time in hospital this year than anywhere else and I am so grateful for all the help and support of the staff at Chesterfield Royal Hospital, without them I would still be vegetating in front of the telly unable to move. I know that next year I have another large surgery looming but at the moment I am grateful to be up and about for the first time in over 6 years.

I became computer literate (well nearly), I got this confounded machine in March, it took me four days to work out how to open the lid to turn the silly thing on! I wouldn't be without it now though. All my friends are in here and I don't think I could go back to the silent, monastic, lonely life I had before. It would drive me totally round the bend.

Everyone has noticed how I have altered since I started to communicate through it. Have I met some special people this year via my lappy - you betcha bottom dollar I have. I am going to mention a few, in no particular order so please don't be hurt or feel neglected as, amazingly I have got loads of friends out there in Cyberspace!

I wouldn't have made friends with Sir Chicksalot, who has my vote for being the most intelligent man on either Multiply or Yahoo. His words of encouragement following my operations helped me so much, and I always have a smile on my face when I pay his page a visit. The Nigel Diaries should be in print - I have told him this on many occasions, and his latest Thinking Back series was a moving insight into a world most of you are too young to remember.

Mr Mad is another of my favourite people, his adventures with Mr Tiddleywinkles leave me in hysterics most of the time, he too ought to be communicating with publishers, as his secret bloggy thing is way better than the Mr Bean Diary which was released a few years ago here in the UK!

Balavan - this lady is flippin' awesome! If you aren't reading Sh'mai, why the heck not? It is brilliant and I can't wait to get my daily fix! Penny, I've said it before and I will say it again - get chasing those publishers up!

There are other people who I try to make a point of talking to nearly every week, Bertie, Destiny Camel, The Boho Hobo, Loubie Lou, Larry Luggage, Kee, Cute1Lori, Fire and Ice, Stargazer Richard, to name but a few. You may not realise it but you have all enriched my life so much and from the depths of my heart I thank you all. I may not get to write to everyone every day but I do think of you all, and I sneak onto your pages for a little read. I sometimes am struggling with the pain in my neck and shoulders which is why I don't leave a comment, yes genius needs encouraging and I try to reply to blogs, but anything else is sometimes too hard for me, and I know you all understand this.

I'm now going to mention a friend who most of you will never have heard of before. Karen, on Yahoo she was known as Zevvie1. She died on 7th July this year of metastasized Breast Cancer.It went into her brain and she suffered so much, but never complained. When she died she had gone blind, and was partially paralysed but was so cheerful every time we spoke on the phone. How much I have regretted that my operations came too late for me to go and see her, she would have loved to see me up and on my feet again. We were both diagnosed the same week with Breast Cancer and had our operations the same day, went through chemo together and that made us closer than any siblings.

I have missed her so much and her sons came to see me today which I thought was very kind of them. I will be raising a glass to her at midnight - if she was here she would be raising the bottle and not just the glass! lol:-D

When you're having a really bad day and it seems like people are trying to piss you off, remember it takes 42 muscles to frown and only 4 to extend your finger and tell them to fuck off.

Remember though do not drink and drive. Ever!

Zero alcohol if you are getting at the back of a steering wheel. An example of what could happen is here. It is graphic and awful, but, it is usually someone who is innocent who suffers at the hands of drink drivers! Not that I think any of my friends would drink and drive, but someone may just fall on this and it could make them think on what they had planned to do!

http://www.lenet3000.com/saburido/index.html

Right enough of this reflecting lark, it's a bit too morbid and that is not what I want to remember this year for.

Think of a number.

Multiply it by 3. Now add 5.

Take away the number you first thought of.

Now add 7.

Subtract 2.

Add back the number you first thought of.

Now, close your eyes.

Dark, isn't it?

For any of you who haven't had a look through my video clips, here is Mummy Woodentop, my lads reckon I was walking like her before that nut tried to off me!

Reasons not to exercise

It is well documented that for every minute that you exercise, you add one minute to your life. This enables you at 85 years old to spend an additional 5 months in a nursing home at $5000 per month.

My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was 60. Now she's 97 years old and we don't know where she is.

The only reason I would take up exercising is so that I could hear heavy breathing again.

I joined a health club last year, spent about 400 bucks. Haven't lost a pound. Apparently you have to show up.

I have to exercise early in the morning before my brain figures out what I'm doing.

I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.

I have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them.

The advantage of exercising every day is that you die healthier.

If you are going to try cross-country skiing, start with a small country.

And last but not least:

I don't exercise because it makes the ice jump right out of my glass.

So 2008 is knocking at the door, let it in joyfully. Have a wonderful year. Don't do anything you don't want to do - you are a grown up now and perfectly capable of making up your own mind!

Try and make someone smile everyday - I do and it makes me smile back!

I hope you all have a happy and healthy year and that we will be back here this time next year. I love you all a lot,

Kerena xxx

A Different Christmas Poem

SANTAS CHRISTMAS PICS

So are we all ready for Chrimbo then? Chrimbo - Christmas as defined by The Beatles many, many moons ago! I am. My presents are wrapped, the food shopping is done, not much more that I can do until the big day now.
I got to thinking earlier about Christmas all around the world. Some people dislike all the hype, how much it costs, the religious connotations etc. I love Christmas as it gives me a chance to treat each and every member of my family to a gift they otherwise could not have afforded for themselves. I am not religious, and really I should have said are we all ready for Xmas. This spelling was devised for atheists but as with most things it now crops up all over the place.

Anyway as I said I got to thinking, (yes that was the creaking noise you all heard), and whilst thinking I was as usual surfing the net, and I came cross this. It reminded me that there are thousands of brave men and women, in uniform not only from the UK and USA but from most countries, and these people are striving to ensure that we have the freedom to celebrate Christmas, Chrimbo, Xmas however we wish to. These soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines all love and cherish their families as much as we love ours, yet due to a sense of honour and duty they will be many miles away on the big day.
This poem is published anonymously and all I ask is that you all take moment to read it, and thank whatever deity you worship that you have the freedom to choose.



SANTAS CHRISTMAS PICS

A Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?", I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here.
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve.
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me."
"I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
"My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile"
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home."
"I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother."
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long."
"For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."



SANTAS CHRISTMAS PICS

Olympic Games London 2012

I don't know who I told and who I've missed cos I am quite excited,

 but, tonight my youngest granddaughter Kirsten (commonly known as Curly) aged 11 has been told to get training in earnest as she has made it ito the UK gymnastics back-up team for the 2012 Olympic Games!

Kirsten is on the right of the awful picture at the front. Roll on new camera!

 

My Village

I thought I would tell you all about the village I live in. I ). The original cottages are now part of a landfill site. The area I live in was not built until 1974 under the guise of regeneration and it knocked the guts out of the village spirit (apparently). The full official title is BarrowHill Model Village, but for many years it has just been Barrowhill. It was built by Richard Barrow between 1853 and 1856 to be a new model community. Originally he built 247 cottages, a school and a church. Since then the village has had quite a bit of modernisation (unfortunately> I do know that there isn't much community spirit where I live. Everyone keeps pretty much to themselves and it is extremely quiet.

We do have one claim to fame and that is we still have a working Roundhouse which is home to over 60 trains. This is the only one left in the UK and our Roundhouse Society worked very hard to raise funds to keep it going. If Chesterfield council had been given free rein it would have been demolished and a new housing estate would now be there. Thank gawd for the Roundhouse Society!    

http://www.barrowhill.org.uk/

We used to have a pub, surprisingly enough it was called The Barrow (I wonder why?). This however is no more as it's last occupiers were apparently running a huge counterfeiting ring from the upstairs rooms!

We still have a social club so there is somewhere to go for a drink at night. I haven't been in there as a regular for many years so I am eagerly anticipating our little shindig next weekend.

    

I know I can make it there and back under my own steam as I ave been practising walking up there and back every day!

News Flash

Oh my goodness. I am stunned.

 My eldest lad, Matthew and his girlfriend, Zuzana are going to have a baby! 

 It will be their first and I am dead chuffed with them. Matthew always said he didn't want children and he is a dirty great fibber!  I've never seen anyone smiling so much.

They have been to Slovakia recently to see her dad as he is quite ill with a dodgy ticker and they had to make sure he knew - just in case! 

I already have two granddaughters and one grandson so another one will fit in just perfect.

 

 

Quote For Today

It used to be the case that you needed to speak 4 languages to get a job in a London hotel. Nowadays you need 4 languages to stay in one.    

Quick Joke

Young Dave was courting Mabel, who lived on an adjoining farm out west in cattle country. One evening, as they were sitting on Dave's porch watching the sun go down over the hills, Dave spied his prize bull doing the business on one of his cows. He sighed in contentment at this idyllic rural scene and figured the omens were right for him to put the big question to Mabel.
He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "Mabel, I'd sure like to be doing what that bull is doing."
"Well then, why don't you?" Mabel whispered back.
"It is YOUR cow."  

 

 

Another joke

All the good knights were leaving for the Crusades. One knight told his best friend "My bride is without doubt one of the most beautiful women in the world. It would be a terrible waste if no man could have her."
"Therefore, as my best and most trusted friend, I am leaving you the key to her chastity belt to use should I not return from the Crusade in seven years."
The company of knights were only a mile or so out of town when they noticed a cloud of dust approaching. Thinking it might be an important message from the town the column halted.
A horseman approached. It was the knight's best friend.
He said "Hey, you gave me the wrong key!!"  

 

Stupid Me!

I give up! This silly machine will be the death of me. I have been trying to tidy my page up as I think it's got quite messy and the more I try to insert something the messier it gets! Oops.




Free Comments & Graphics





Free Comments & Graphics

Professional Blogging

It has come to my attention that all the articles my friends and I have read telling us that we can earn money by blogging professionally are rubbish. Well, it doesn't surprise me as I was extremely sceptical from the get go. There are hundreds of millions of people on-line now, social networking, blogging call it what you want and to be honest unless you are a well known celebrity no-one is going to make a point of looking for Joe Soap's daily rant. If you were say the Beckhams, or the McCanns then people would hit your site daily as they are scared to death they are going to miss something, but poor little ol' me - well lets face it what on earth is interesting enough about my life to keep folks coming back for more. Errr - nowt! In a word my life is as dull as ditchwater, it would be more interesting watching paint dry than reading about my daily trials and tribulations. Right take today for example, I struggled out of bed at 9.30 - a bit late for me but it was pissing it down with rain, I can't go anywhere so what have I got to get up for. I must confess that the past couple of days I have found it a tad easier getting in and out, my right leg is slowly improving so that is a good thing. Anyway where was I, - right, I struggled out of bed and hobbled with my zimmer to the bathroom. I've been incontinent for a few years now due to the hip dysplasia I had and I have to wear pads, well now I'm gaining a little more control of my bladder through the day but at night I am still useless. Anyway I have to try and hurry to the bathroom before the pad slides down with the weight of all that water! So I change the pad, have a wash and brush my teeth then into the kitchen for coffee and porridge. I have coffee and porridge every single day without fail. Boring. Anyway around an hour later my friend/carer arrives with my bits from Morrison's. "Was it busy?" I query, "No", we go through the same thing every Saturday. So, I put the telly on, Extreme Makeover Home Edition. Every week I sob my little socks off at some poor family, I don't realise how lucky I am. Well we watch that, moan at most of the decorating as it is hideous then she goes home - for a nap cos she's tired. Anne is always tired. Every day she comes over, asks me how I am then yawns for two hours before going home for a nap. I sometimes wonder why she comes to see me for the days where she isn't yawning she is fast asleep in the chair. Anyway she leaves me and I go in the shower and get dressed. Back into the kitchen and find something to nuke for dinner. Now if the weather had been fine and dry I would have popped my coat on and ventured outdoors for a gentle walk outside while the microwave worked it's magic on my lunch. Anyway it was still raining so I perched on my stool in the kitchen occasionally watching my Tesco's finest Roast Lamb dinner go around whilst ostensibly reading Steven Kings Gerald's Game. Anyway the thing pings and I tuck a piece of kitchen roll down my cleavage and try to spear a carrot with my fork. Hard. I hate hard, crunchy vegetables so back in the microwave it goes. I put it on for nearly 40 minutes in total then abandon it as a bad job before fetching the cheese out of the fridge. Aah, cheese on toast - I would starve if I couldn't have that as a fall back! After my main meal I then have my cod liver oil and a multi vitamin, glucosamine (anyone with arthritis must take this daily - recommended by my surgeon), and my tissue salts. I've taken these for a number of years and can highly recommend them. If you go into Holland and Barratt's it is just like an Aladdin's cave, the stuff is fabulous. Anyway, I digress, after lunch I then wend my way into the room and turn this infernal machine on. That is where all my problems start. I really don't know what I am doing most of the time, and if I am perfectly honest I don't want to know. I'm not interested in how it works. I just want to be able to email my sister in Australia and talk with a few people on the MSN, do my bit of shopping and perhaps keep in touch with some wonderful people I have "met" chatting on my 360 and Multiply. Anyway this chatting/blogging has taken over and it's starting to tire me out. There aren't enough hours in a day for me to get online and do something to every social networking site that I am registered with. I am here, like I said on 360 and Multiply and they are enough for anyone, but then I also registered with Facebook, Stumble Upon, Mash, and Fubar, and another friend has got quite cross with me for not joining Mashable - and- for not having Yahoo messenger! No, no, no! Enough is enough. I am waiting to see what Yahoo are doing with 360/Mash then some accounts will have to go as I can't keep going on like this. And, then it's time for bed! There was a purpose to my blog today - just to point out that my life is as boring as heck and you really should be reading my proposed novel and leaving me messages of encouragement to continue with it. Genius needs encouragement and unless someone tells me my story is worth while continuing with I will continue to waste every day with social trivia and Spider Solitaire! Lol:-D

A New Chapter

I am still waiting for comments so will add a little more from my prospective novel to tempt someone, anyone into adding a comment!

CHAPTER ONE


LYTA


Pain! It burned through her body as she ran. Mosquitoes bit her fiercely, repeatedly causing large welts to spring up on the tender surfaces of her skin. Branches cruelly whipped her face,arms and legs, leaving smears of green blood oozing from the scratches left behind, twigs caught at her snagging in her clothes and hair, pulling her long blue black hair from the roots. She tried to breathe, gasping harshly as her legs pumped furiously as she raced to evade the mob who had relentlessly chased her over the past three days. She glanced ahead but the driving rain blurred her vision and she prayed silently that she had not strayed from the track too much. The baying of hounds spurred her forward as she looked frantically around. Finally she saw it, slightly darker, a shadow to those who didn't know the area as well. A crevice in the looming cliff-face, a shadow which only someone who knew the area well would know about.

Casting a grateful prayer to her mother for the blissful hours spent exploring the woods, she
ran carefully towards her sanctuary, placing her feet gingerly on mounds of fallen leaves, now trying to leave no trail for the trackers following. Her delicate feet seemed to glide weightlessly over the floor without disturbing the smallest of insects underfoot. Images of her fate if she was caught came into her mind. To burn staked out under a hot afternoon sun, after suffering the unmentionable tortures and torments for which Nemon the overseer was known for. With a shudder of revulsion she glanced over her shoulder and to her horror saw the first of the giant mastiffs inexorably nearing her, it's powerful haunches pushing it's huge body forward, faster than she could run. A feral rictus contorting it's face it snarled at the sight of it's quarry, saliva whipping it's face as the yellow teeth glistened in the fading daylight.

A hunting horn sounded and she heard voices now, harsh and guttural, the language still after three years sounding strange and unfamiliar to her ears which were used to more lilting, harmonic tones . In speaking out in anger against Nemon, she had caused his humiliation with the visiting lords. She knew that the overseer was desperate to advance into Lord Azhmel's service, and his plan to give his guests their own personal female slave would have brought him one step closer. She however, had been vociferous in her refusal and so had brought Nemon's wrath upon her head and, her own death sentence.

As she ran, thought's of her pretty mother sprang to mind, and she wondered now if the mystery surrounding her death two years earlier could be explained. She was only twelve at the time and her mother had been called in front of Nemon and told to pick her basket of healing herbs and powders up, she was going on a trip and her skills were to be used to impress the new overlord, Azhmel. Nemon had grasped her roughly around her waist with one hand while the other gripped Illyria's chin tightly. "You will do everything my Lord wants" he had hissed sibilantly, "Failure will be very unpleasant not just for you but for everyone here". As Illyria had looked into his dark eyes she could tell the truths he spoke.

A vision of the evening when Lord Azhmel had first rode into their village sprang into her mind as she ran. He bestrode a large jet black destrier which was known as Fury, the animal was evil personified and, so was his master. Lord Azhmel had looked around while sat on his horse and Lyta had felt his burning gaze on her as she worked in the small herb garden which had belonged to her mother. As she looked up his eyes caught her and she became transfixed as a moth in the flame of a burning candle. With a shudder she had torn herself away and bent back to her task,murmuring their names as she packed them into her small rabbit skin satchel.
"Sage,comfrey,mint,borage," as she settled back into harvesting she slowly relaxed and was intensely aware of when his eyes strayed further away from her. She took a deep cleansing breath and tried to forget him. Lord Azhmel's delight in the whipping of the men who worked for him was legendary, the slightest transgression meant they could receive over fifty lashes before Azhmel was satisfied, he always performed the whipping himself and seemed to derive a perverse pleasure from it. There were also stories that he mistreated his female slaves,but no-ne had seen this for the females mysteriously disappeared and were never seen again.

Confused

So here we are again, the wee small hours of the night and I still haven't slept a wink. Then again I haven't tried to get into bed yet tonight. It is so very difficult. It will be three weeks tomorrow (Monday) since my operation and to be honest, I feel pretty rough. Nothing at all like after my op in August. I was marvellous then, sprightly, able to get outside and walk and bed my hip in. My neighbours must have thought a lunatic was in their midst as I daily used to set off, both sticks in hand and a huge cheesy smile plastered all over my face. My friend used to compare me with askier, you know left arm with stick out at the same time as my right leg and vic versa. I did so much more then than they (the surgeons) expected me to. Now look at me. It's all I can do to stand up, and walking is an absolute nightmare for me. I keep forcing myself to go and walk but it's not the same - my smile has gone and I'm not having fun anymore! They say it will get better but I am not holding them down to that with how I feel at the moment. I ust get better so I can go to my only brother for Christmas dinner. He would never forgive me if I let him down.

Prologue Third and Final Part

The forgotten benefactors who had settled the people ten generations ago.

For although the signs had been disregarded and forgotten as myths and legends, there were still traces of them. No-one had followed in their footsteps for many years. The older priests had tried to urge their flock into renewing an interest in the histories, but, as children are wont to do, they laughed and continued to play. Eventually after many moons a decision was made. Eight of the faithful were chosen, eight because it was the magical number of the old ones. These were the strongest and fittest of the people left behind. The eight still had youthful vigour on their sides, something which they would need in the long days to come.

In the quiet depths of the hidden underground catacombs they were shown secrets which had been forgotten except by the few priests who survived and watched over them. The priests were old and wise in ways their flock knew nothing about. They chanted and sang over the runes and, living maps writhed through the air, a mysterious red glow surrounding them, before, briefly touching their bodies. They gagged on the cloths which had been forced in their mouths to muffle their screams, no-one must hear them or all would be lost. An enormous cover stone was laboriously pushed away from a cave which contained scrolls and the few precious relics that had survived the desecration. The scrolls were reverently unwrapped and studied carefully. Kneeling together in a circle, heads bowed. they prayed for guidance and courage. The priests stood over them chanting the Old language.

Slowly all became aware of the thickening of the air and a luminescent green glow began to envelop them. The living maps began to writhe on their bodies and as they stared in amazement details were filled in. A trail was marked and they smiled triumphantly that the Old Ones had given them a sign.

They slipped away quietly in the night, stifling anxious whispers from their neighbours and friends as they evaded the sentries. Fervent prayers were muttered that the invaders were too lost in drink and sleep to hear their escape. For months after the Seekers left, their friends and family were put to work in the fields. Every day they murmured 'Today we will be saved, today they will return', and at the setting of the sun as they dragged their weary bodies home they prayed for the strength to continue.

Finally the prayers stopped. The Old Ones had really gone and there was to be no rescue. Or so they believed...........

Professional Blogging

So how does someone (namely me) earn money by blogging professionally? I have been assured by numerous people that there is lots of money available if you know what you are doing but - I don't know what I am doing and no-one is letting me in on the secret!

I have now set up accounts on Yahoo 360, Yahoo Mash, Multiply, Facebook and a Fubar as well as this one on Blogger and cannot for the life of me see anything which is worth someone paying me for. Hmmm. I have a feeling they were all pulling my leg!

Talking about legs, I must have been really lucky when I had my left leg sorted out in August. I didn't have any pain at all and had steadily improved. So why does my right leg hurt like heck this time? I have never known such pain, and it isn't improving at all. I will have to mention it to the nurse tomorrow when she makes her last home visit. She is coming to nip the knots out of my wounds and then that is it. I am on my own. Scary thought. I do wish she would come back a few more times if only to put my very elegant ted socks on me. I have to wear them for six weeks to prevent DVT or PE - for the folks who don't understand medical abbreviations they are deep vein thrombosis or pulmonary embolism. I made a rod for my own back really. Prior to my operation in August if I walked 100 steps a day I was doing well. The day I went in this time I walked with the aid of two sticks a total of (big drum roll) 2568! Da da!!! So now I am struggling to walk 300 steps a day I am at more risk of getting a clot than I was before. Does that make sense to you? Hope so as I am not going to try and work it out again :-D Also we should all of us that sit in front of our computer day in day out remember to get up and walk around every half an hour or so. Siting is very bad and could cause the same clots as well as strokes! Flippin' heck this typing lark is quite dangerous then? My advice is to get a cooker timer and set it to go off every half an hour, then while you are having a walk about have a drink as none of us take in enough liquids. End of today's medical lecture by Dr Dozy!