“Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur,
happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr”

However, in my lack of wisdom, I took it for granted that the flash triggers would work for both. If my hands are really bad, this is the only way that I can take photographs and some wonderful friends all clubbed together a while ago, to make a pod that would go onto my wheelchair and adapt a trigger release to have massive buttons for my gammy hands. ♥ Sincerely, even now, I can’t thank you all enough!

A couple of weeks ago, I needed to use a trigger release and thought “why not try it on the newer camera?” so I got the newer camera and I was baffled for a moment. I’d completely forgot that some of the newer models have no where for a trigger release cable to go, but use an infared trigger release system insead – obviously the remote controls are sold seperately. I was dreading looking for one and finding an extortionate price, however, I was plesantly surprised at the pricing of them and without haste, ordered one online.

Today it arrived in the post. Somewhat surprised at how light the remote is, a little awkward with positioning etc, but generally it’s a canny, nifty little gadget.

However, someone who I thought gave a damn once, said something that I did take to heart, – this person being a woman. Shallow is a bit of an understatement and to be frank, I don’t think that she realises, or cares, that she upset me. She loved the fact that she was the thinner of the 2 of us – and to be frank I never cared, however her comments shocked me a while ago.

I’d gone from a size 22, to a size 16-18. It’s not unusual for me to change size, however this was partly medication related, not weight loss medication I hasten to add, but neuro-meds. She made a comment about my “tree trunk legs”. Now, given that my legs have always been toned until I became disabled, this was a sore point anyway. I mean, come on, I was a size 16 and did arerobics 4 times a week (step aerobics twice a week), wore 6″ heels often and had killer pins! Since becoming disabled, fair enough my legs do swell, but the muscle wastage over the years means that my legs are 1-2 dress sises than my waist and hips. Skinny jeans look like straight jeans on me, bootcut jeans look like kick-flare… I don’t have massive legs.

Someone else has referred to my “fat arse” several times. My said “fat arse” is boney and covered in bruises mearly from sitting on it.

However, today, I’m going to have my moment of bitchiness….

Look at what I bought yesterday, that fit perfectly, even my “fat arse” and “tree trunk legs”….

Today we had to pop into our local co op store for a couple of bits, you know the kind, bread, milk, that sorta stuff. I was using my wheelchair and when we went to queue up, I couldn’t get the wheelchair close. It’s got very narrow isles anyway and the chackout is usually a bit of a nightmare with the wheelchair anyway, but today there was a queue of about 5 people and there was absolutely no way that I was going to be able to get the wheelchair anywhere near the end of the queue, never mind the till. So it was a case of either put stuff back and leave or me wait outside while hubby paid. Usually it would’ve been the former to be honest, because of the access issues but today I waited outside.

Anyway, getting back to flowers. It’s not very often that I have flowers in the house, – with hayfever and 3 cats who like to play, it’s not really practical. So while I was sat outside waiting for hubby, the flower stand caught my eye. Now, their range of flowers is usually quite mundane and today was no different. Bunches half dead from the polution and cold outside, … no single bunch that you’d buy your Gran, to be honest. However, many of the bunches, half of the bunch had a little life left in some of the flowers still, so now you know the story of how todays photo came to be flowers.