Tightening Budgets and Rediscovering Potatoes

Friday 24 April 2020 20:45

Well, I thought I’d pared my normal budget down to the bare necessities already as I headed into this year of challenges; of course, little did I know how much bigger those challenges would become! With seven months of working at the boatyard now not happening, taking the expected income with it, the real prospect of going hungry has been looming even larger and closer.

An urgent bit of crisis-within-a-crisis budgeting was called for. And it turns out there are quite a few more things that aren’t actually essential.

My small daily glass of wine with supper, and healthy quick to cook ready meals have been just a distant memory since the beginning of January. Now they’re joined by biscuits, cake, chocolate, crunchy bars, ice cream – in fact any edible treat at all! Ah well, maybe it’s time to diet.

Memberships of the very few groups and societies who I’ve supported for their good work – like the Basingstoke Canal Society – or to give me frequent entry to places I could otherwise either not see, or only afford to visit once or twice a year – like the RHS garden at Wisley have had to go.

Hardest to accept I have to let go are my regular monthly donations to half a dozen charities, but those are now all cancelled from May too.

Websites that have been dormant for a while are being mothballed when their hosting and/or domain name renewals become due. Obviously I want to keep this and D4H going, and ideally find a way of developing them even during the crisis…

My car is once again a dilemma. I decided in January not to get rid of it, especially as I was anticipating returning to the boatyard. Now I don’t expect it to be safe to return out into the world for the rest of the year. Quite what to do though, I’m not sure, but at this moment the car IS utterly non-essential. Update 28 April: I have decided to keep the insurance going just in case it gets stolen – although I don’t think it’ll start after nearly 2 months – or around here sadly likely, vandalised. I have however today SORN’d it, which means I get a refund of 10 months tax (although I’d like to hope I’ll be back driving before another 10 months is up, but for now the cash will be welcome).

The only other possible cut back – or even complete cut out – is my small storage unit. I believe storage providers are on the “essential services” list of places that are allowed by the government to stay open. As I’m not venturing out of the house even for a walk though, going somewhere like that – where unknowable numbers of other people are milling around (and the small units have doorways within only inches, or at most two or three feet of each other) – is utterly out of the question. I have to accept then that even if I was inclined to clear it out, it isn’t going to happen. With all the council tips closed, what would I do with it all anyway!

So my budget is down pretty much as low as it can go at the moment, and still comes in at a hefty £750-£800 a month. (Little Jessie, with her vet bills, litter and food, costs an average of about £100 a month, but she is, of course, a non-negotiable absolutely essential necessity!)

Food is where I’m learning to be more adaptable. Pasta, spaghetti, noodles etc are all in short supply for delivery, but I’ve reacquainted myself with good old potatoes and finding them extremely useful especially for lunches. A quick steam of a few finely chopped spuds, a dob of butter, maybe a little grated cheese or a third of a tin of tuna, mashed to a yummy perfection and dressed with ketchup – food for the Gods indeed.

A week or so ago I bit the bullet and applied for Universal Credit – something I really hoped to avoid doing – and it does look as if that will be forthcoming. It gives me just over £400 a month, far short of what I need, but every little helps.

Being accepted for Universal Credit should also make me eligible for Council Tax relief – in a nutshell, a saving of just under £125 a month. This is proving nowhere near as straight forward to apply for from the local council, with endless somewhat absurd hoops to jump through and impossible datelines, but I’m hopeful it will happen.

All in all it does look as if the government help coupled with tightening the belt another notch or two will mean my remaining rapidly dwindling savings will stretch a few months further than I’d feared, and should at least see me through to early next year. By which time I hope to be able to go out!

In the meantime, I need to get through all the stress and anxiety I’ve been feeling, and get back to working on my aim of NOT being ‘bowled out’ at the young age of 61. The coming months will be a far bigger test than I could ever have imagined, but I’d like to have Drawing 4 Health ready to launch properly in some form or other for the summer of 2021, and I need to get back on track, and get writing and drawing again.

Let’s face it, it’s not like I have anywhere to go!

Why It’s A Hard Time To Have ADHD And Why I Wish More People Had It

Tuesday 21 April 2020 13:50

People with ADHD don’t tend to become politicians.

We don’t have what it takes to be ‘yes men’. We’re not followers – oh we’re not leaders either (that needs focus and single mindedness)! We’re questioners.

People whose brains are wired in an ADHD way see and hear everything. It’s why we get irritated by the use of the word “deficit” in Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. It’s not a “deficit” of attention, it’s an “overload”;  everything gets our attention, like it or not.

Our brains are wired in such a way as to constantly be aware of the ‘Big Picture’, and we’re aware the whole time of not only all that is happening, but also all the possibilities of what might happen; good and bad. We’re bombarded by a constantly running array of “what if?” scenarios in our brains. 

While this is quite mentally exhausting, it has benefits.

I would put good money on the fact that those people in the world with ADHD wired brains could see how this virus situation would pan out long before the rest of the population (and the politicians). If governments had a few more ADHD wired brains in positions of power, I guarantee there would not be a shortage of PPE, lockdowns would have been applied much sooner and enforced with much more severity. And in all probability, a lot less people would have died.

But there’s a caveat.

Those with ADHD wired brains need trusted and trusting – the latter being of equal or even greater importance – ‘partners’ in the fight, who have not one shred of ADHD wiring. Those people are needed to focus on the tasks that need to done, but they need to do so with absolute trust in that which they can’t necessarily see, either right in front of them or, crucially, lying ahead of them.

The politicians with the power to carry out the tasks needed at the moment, must trust the scientists who are asking the “what if?” questions and doing the modelling, and the people must trust that the politicians are right to do so. This is not about something as petty and pathetic as party politics. This is not a time to be placating ‘the people’ and to be asking them politely and meekly to “abide by the guidelines, if you wouldn’t mind, we know you’ll do the right thing, thanks ever so”. This is not a time to be afraid to be authoritative.

Those people in authority who do believe what they’re being told by the scientists, must keep their focus entirely on that, and give clear, firm instructions to the people they’re tasked with protecting. This is not about finding favour, or about necessarily being ‘liked’, either now or looking back. This is about preventing a vast and increasing number of human beings dying. 

Here in the UK, it’s just not happening.

Our politicians, our law makers, and our law enforcers are tip toeing around, anxious not to upset anyone, and none of them are prepared to give the firm clear message that if you don’t do as your told, you will (at the very least) be served a hefty fine (a real fine, not a pathetic £30 for pity’s sake!). We are not seeing or hearing anyone prepared to say they accept that the people may be upset, even furiously angry with them for restricting everyone’s movements, but that they’d rather the people they are charged with protecting were upset or angry with them, than dead.

I am seeing, right here, outside my window, right now, people who think that it’s fine to not quite abide by what, after all, are only “guidelines”. In their eyes a little bit of “bending the rules” is to be expected. No-one (certainly around here!) is enforcing anything. No-one has actually TOLD us not to carry on as normal.

A probable 24,000 + deaths in the UK SO FAR, including those in the community. But they personally haven’t suffered, so it’s ok to bend the rules…

STAY HOME.

Protect the NHS.

SAVE LIVES.

Are these idiots who are behaving as if nothing’s happening, really thinking, “Yes, I know what that’s what the government keeps telling us, and splashing across our tv screens, and on hoardings, and across news sites – but they don’t mean it, not literally.”?

@!*#!@*#*!!

So, it’s ok for them to have family dropping round, to swop between each other’s homes every few days, to go out in their car for long and unnecessary journeys several times every single day because they want a “change of scene”. If they get stopped they know they can claim that it’s their one journey today, that they’re on their way to do “essential shopping”, or they can lie and claim that they live in a tiny flat in an urban situation that provides nowhere for their “one hour of daily exercise” (ie not the reality of a large detached house with ample private garden in a quiet estate with many green open spaces). And they can drive on with a smug smile on their face because in their view they “got away with it”.

They see a tiny bit of the picture, that revolves only around themselves, and is concerned only in this moment. They are consumed by selfish, irresponsible, stupidity and ignorance, and I guarantee that even if they knew the potentially catastrophic consequences of their actions, they would deny any culpability.

Because “the Government haven’t said that might happen”…

Oh mon Dieu! Je désespère!

Anyone can be carrying the virus, and be thus capable of spreading it without being aware that they have it. It’s been proved that symptoms may only present several days after the virus has been caught. Some ‘lucky’ people don’t even present any symptoms severe enough to cause them concern. But they can still spread it.

So ‘what if’ the selfish ignorant irresponsible smug git who goes off in his car for no good reason is carrying the virus. And ‘what if’, when he’s pulled over by the policeman who is putting his life on the line trying to get idiots like this one to see sense, he passes that virus on, maybe by doing something as obvious as coughing involuntarily, or maybe just by the transference of tiny droplets while talking, or maybe any one of a myriad of possibilities. And the officer, during the course of his duty over the next few days, before falling ill and dying himself, and before he’s even aware that he now carries the virus, passes it on to his colleagues, and other members of the public. And they take it home, and pass it on to their partners, and children…

Or ‘what if’ the copper that pulls our arrogant idiot over, himself has the virus already, and what if he does the involuntary cough, or the over spraying speaking…

Or ‘what if’, just because the sun is shining and he’s feeling a bit cooped up at home, the shortsighted and narrow minded self obsessed fool goes off for a drive and has an accident. And the emergency services that are called out could be attending a small child suffering with the virus, who is having a serious, and as it will transpire with lack of immediate care, fatal asthma attack? Or ‘what if’ the driver of the other vehicle involved in the accident is carrying the virus and in the chaos and panic of smashed vehicles and trapped bodies, social distancing is completely forgotten…

At this point I’m sure many of you are laughing and declaring something along the lines of “Oh for goodness sake, you can’t worry about what might happen, you’d never do anything!”, or words to that effect. Well, no, I agree in the normal course of life, if you were so afraid of having an accident you never got in a car, that would be extreme. But these are not normal times. In normal times if, heaven forbid, you were alone in your car and you had even a serious collision with another solo driver, potentially two lives might be lost. At the moment, just such a scenario could result in a spreading of the virus that ultimately extrapolated to 20, 80, 500 people dying.

These are not normal times. The ‘normal’ rules simply and crucially do not apply.

Having a brain wired in the way of ADHD is a huge advantage in being acutely aware of the dangers at the moment, and of the means to avoid them; but it’s also a huge disadvantage for much the same reason – or rather, for being acutely aware that other people astonishingly, just, don’t, get it.

Having to constantly observe the actions of others – aware of the potential consequences and yet realising that they either aren’t, or they just simply don’t care, and recognising that I can do nothing about it – is mentally exhausting and paralysing. Seeing (not watching, but unavoidably seeing) the actions of my neighbours repeatedly, throughout each and every day, that have the potential to put an unknowable number of other lives at risk, and being unable to do anything about it, is completely mentally overwhelming. I have very little problem with the lockdown; I’m terrified by what’s happening outside my windows.

I have spent the last few weeks descending into what feels like a sort of madness, and I have now to protect my mental wellbeing as much as my physical health. I realise I have perhaps two options: close all the curtains or at least stay away from the windows (not easy in such a tiny house with rooms, and indeed windows, on one side only), while keeping the windows and doors closed and playing music or podcasts so even the sound of cars coming and going is cut out; or live at night, when the rest of the neighbourhood is sleeping.

I’ve extended the coloured film that I originally added to part of my lounge window so that I would not be in the direct gaze of my unpleasant and frightening neighbours opposite, so it now blocks out their coming and goings entirely. Sadly it also means I can’t wave to friendly passers by, and I lose most of the view of my soon to be blossoming rose. It has helped though.

I get up shortly after dawn and tend my little bit of garden that immediately borders the pavement outside – I won’t risk being out there at all when the constant stream of passers by are inches away; I may in due course just let that part of the garden go wild, or die. I don’t sit outside at all. I keep the curtain closed upstairs beside my desk on the side of the scary neighbours. At the moment I still like to watch people coming and going on foot further along the road. If I witness any more acts of threatening behaviour or vandalism – like the young people spitting at passers by, or the two who thought it amusing to set fire to the rubbish bin – I will close those curtains too; or take that final, and rather drastic action, and move into the night.

The actions of those around me will not improve, in fact I’m sure they’ll get even worse as this lockdown, in their view, “drags on”. I realise that my brain wiring is unable to allow me to do what others would find so easy, that is to ignore it. So I have to take what would otherwise be extraordinary steps to prevent my being aware of what they’re doing, in order to preserve what’s left of my sanity. I’m not sure that actually makes sense to anyone else. But if it works, that doesn’t matter.

So I will continue to do whatever I need to for my mental health, and I have the means to stay safe physically, and I’m grateful for the ability to have seen just how essential that was going to be even before it all became official. Now I just need to deal with the “deficit” bit of the attention – the bit that makes focussing on the essential tasks required to stay safe frighteningly haphazard. But that, as they say, is another story.


(I realise I could have subtitled this: Judy’s Slow Decline Into Madness. Hmm. You decide.)

Random Thoughts On The First Days In Lockdown

Friday 27 March 2020 14:30

There are no longer different days of the week. Just “daytime” and “nighttime”.

(Does nighttime really have two “t’s” in it?)

As my brain continues to be a little fuddled, I’m increasingly grateful for Spellcheck.

9pm now feels very late and “way past my bedtime”.

Video links are no longer thought an odd way to catch up with friends, even local ones.

I’m writing my Will at last. It would have been sensible to have done it ages ago, but I’m only now realising who truly warrants being included.

I’m appreciating the option of including “in the event that they pre-decease me” alternatives, but wish I didn’t feel the need to.

My brother is right up there on the list of people I don’t want to lose.

I find I’m now just a little frightened of strangers who are innocently walking by.

My partly hidden entrance way is now an asset not a nuisance.

The Screentime limiting feature on my iPad is coming into its own.

I don’t need to eat nearly as much food to stay healthy as I think I do.

“Comfort food” really isn’t, and it may need to be Supper one day.

You can exercise indoors with just a staircase.

Suddenly not remembering the thing you went upstairs for until you’re back down again is a health benefit.

I’m not as ‘law abiding’ as I thought I was when it comes to sneaking garden trimmings into the household waste bin for collection.

Jiggling and pausing to air dry instead of using toilet paper after only “spending a penny” is neither a health hazard, nor a cause for discomfort.

I’m reminded of a saying I heard a great many decades ago, “Sometimes I just sits and thinks; sometimes I just sits.”.

The pile of books in the bathroom are being dipped into more often.

When this is all over, I shall save a fortune on toilet paper.

Focussing On Gratitude, and The Need To Be My Own Parent Now

Tuesday 24 March 2020 11:10 am

It feels strange to be so deeply grateful that the free country I’ve called home all my life is in almost complete lockdown. But I am. It won’t stop all of the stupid selfish people, but it will stop some, and that means that those I love – and I – stand a slightly better chance of surviving than we did yesterday.

I’ve wondered, over the most recent days, if having ADHD at this time is a real curse. I’ve felt so alone in seeing ‘the big picture’, all the gathering storm in pin sharp detail approaching from all around us, while others seemed able to cling on to the certainty that everything would be fine (or maybe a bit of a nuisance now, but all cleared up by June). I felt like the child playing musical chairs who had no seat when the music stopped.

Everyone else’s focus seemed to be on ‘knowing’, or thinking they did, exactly where they were, while outside their narrow field of vision, the chairs were bolted to the floor, the seats were smeared with super glue, and the fire alarm was about to sound…

They had no idea how lucky they were, all those people who were spared the anxiety of seeing the approaching storm. I can’t though, help but wonder, if only more of those in charge had ADHD wired brains, we might have been safer, sooner.

It’s academic now. I’m shutting all the websites with stats and forecasts – keeping those with real verified scientific facts and advice that I may need to check from time to time in a list of links that I visit only when it’s absolutely necessary to do so.

I’ve let myself become exhausted with caring about the world. Now I have to care for myself.

Keeping the world out now is my priority.

I know I’m lucky, and being ‘home alone’ in itself doesn’t feel like a hardship at all (only knowing I must not see the person I love most of all – that tears at my heart, but I do it because it helps keep us both safe). Somebody told me the other day to imagine myself in my favourite place, and seemed a little taken aback when I immediately laughed and replied, “I’m in it.”.

It’s what’s outside that scares me.

I wish I had a garden that wasn’t so vulnerable to other people. Today for the first time I’m keeping Jessie indoors, and will be doing so for days ahead. Until the child who lives opposite stops kicking her football in the street and across to my garden, and until any remaining danger from it and her being there has passed. Jessie hates being in, and so do I, but the threat is too great, and the risk that the child is unknowingly carrying the virus is too real.

So we are indoors, looking out on the sunshine, and I’m starting to plan our new life. I’ve begun what will become, I’m sure, a huge colourful sanity saving project of thinking of all the people and things I love, and have loved, in my life, and all the things that I’m grateful for. I’m writing each on a post-it note and sticking it wherever it will stick and be constantly in my line of sight. At the moment that’s on mirrors, and the now forever dark screen of the lounge tv that stopped working last week. I’m aiming to include walls but need to find a better non-permanent glue; luckily I have a lot of mirrors, the small space dweller’s best friend.

I have hundreds, maybe thousands, of books – and, I just realised, the time to count them – and cupboards full of art supplies. The tiny old tv from the bedroom now sits very cutely in the corner of the lounge, and of course tv and so many other options for entertainment are available online. I have cupboards that need turning out, at least two years’ worth of filing, and a LOT of tidying to do. With literally no spare space anywhere indoors or outside, it will be hard to de-clutter because there’s nowhere to de-clutter to (and not even space outside for a tiny incinerator, let alone a bonfire), but while we still have bin collections, I will see if i can do at least some throwing out.

And though the friends I am blessed with are far away, they come and visit through the magic of the internet and video calling and virtual meeting rooms, so I’m not really alone.

I would really like to survive, and am desperate for those I hold closest to my heart to survive. Nothing else matters right now. If I only have sardines to eat and have to drink tea without milk, I care not. I can even jiggle and air dry to save toilet paper!

Losing what I hold dearest to me is the only thing that makes this so hard to bear, and the child in me just wants to cry and grieve from morning to night. So just as all the parents worldwide are doing, I have to distract that child, give her fun things to do, let her be silly, let her dance and sing very loudly, tire her out so she will get the sleep she needs to stay strong, and feed her as well as I can with what I can find.

I have to be my own parent now. And fight fiercely for my own safety and survival, just as I would for my child’s (and do for Jessie’s), while ensuring that the child who survives is even happier, even stronger, even more knowledgeable and skilled, and never, ever, this scared again.

Quick Thought For The Ladies, To Start The Day

Friday 20 March 2020 10:40

(I’m still working on a photo for this one 🤣)

All you ladies hunkering down to self isolate, and even you young healthy lasses who are social distancing, just think…

Now is the time to wear all those big pants, and frayed bras that are so comfy! 😁

Cos you’re not going to be out on the pull for a while 😉.

Stay safe. Sing loud. Dance energetically.