Travelling in Style!

Travelling in style!!

I thought yesterday was thwart with difficulties. Today, I really did it in style! I’d just travelled down to town in Alfie, my new electric powerchair when I started to feel out of kilter. Uh, oh, I’d had this feeling before. I immediately looked over Alfie, only to discover two completely flat rear tyres! Not again … the last time this happened, I was on the end of the longest pier in the world at Southend-on-Sea! It’s 2.16 kilometres! You can read this here – Sunnier Climes – Part 2 – The Pier.

I was sitting outside M&S (Marks & Spencer) – a big chain store, especially in the UK. I needed assistance, so I limped slowly into the entrance to attract a store assistant. I could feel the rims scraping the ground with every limping inch. Ouch. I just managed to get inside the door out of the hot, bright sun. Fortunately, I have a rescue service as part of my lease contract for such occasions; I phoned them to be told they would be with me as soon as they could.

An hour later, still waiting, I was getting cold as I’d only managed to drive as far as the freezer cabinets by the door. I hadn’t thought to bring a jacket on such a beautiful day. A lovely assistant approached me and asked if I’d like a hot drink. She came back with a coffee. She also picked up a vegan sandwich for me. I was hungry by then. As the hours were ticking away, I was getting very cold, so they gave me one of the Stock Controller’s freezer jackets to put around my shoulders till my transport came. The shop staff were wonderful – they couldn’t have been more helpful and friendly. I’ll definitely be making a call to Customer Services tomorrow to give my compliments and to ask for the staff to be personally thanked.

I sat and waited … and waited … and waited. One of the assistants kept popping his head out of the door to see if there were any signs of rescue. Nothing. I phoned the rescue people again, only to be told they were having difficulties finding a vehicle to collect me. More waiting.

After three-and-a-half hours, a man in grey and orange overalls and muddy boots came toward me. This was my knight in shining armour! I was very pleased to see him. He’d come to take my wheelchair home and helped me into a waiting taxi as he wasn’t allowed to carry passengers. Just as I got home, I saw a truck outside with Alfie on the back. It was a 7.5-ton pick-up truck!! Apparently, that’s all they had available. Some neighbours had come out to watch as my knight guided Alfie, looking very sorry for himself, down the ramp. Finally, we were home. What a day. Lucky I’ve got a very good sense of humour. I won’t live this one down for a long time!

I’ll never live it down 😂

Best Foot Forward …

The only photo of me in the flesh that you’re likely to ever see! I’m shy.
Make the most of it – it’s not likely to happen again 😉!

I thought I’d give you a little background information about my disability. It’s not something I’ve previously spoken about much in my blog, so this is my story.

I started life as an able-bodied little girl who did all the usual activities that young children do. I was always small, skinny and underweight, but there were advantages to being as I was. I could shin up the gym apparatus faster than many children in my class. Considering I was sometimes thought of as a weed, I did pretty well. I grew up, married, had my two children, Tom and Clare, and then my ex left. I continued to raise the children alone and also had to work to bring some money in for us to live on. It was a tough time, but I was very content. Between school runs, the children’s football matches and netball, I was a carer and home help for ten years (I’d initially trained as a secretary and worked in the City of London for several years). I combined my work which I loved, with caring for Tom and Clare; we were a very happy little family.

When the children were about thirteen and eleven, I saved enough to take them to the funfair in town (Essex in the UK). It was there that I had my accident which was to change the course of my life.
When our carriage crashed, I felt a tremendous jolt that jarred my neck and spine. Eventually, after a lengthy spell in hospital (with my children staying with my Mum) and with many tests, x-rays, scans and examinations, the doctors decided I’d damaged the nerve endings leading from my spine. They said it was permanent. It was an awful lot to come to terms with, but over time, I grew, not so much to accept it but more to live my life despite it. I wasn’t about to give in easily. The pain was awful, though, and I was on morphine for quite a while. It wasn’t all bad – I was away with the fairies much of the time 😄!

Fast forward twenty years. It was recommended that I have a DEXA Scan as osteoporosis was suspected, given that I’d always been small-boned, had experienced a few years previously with anorexia, and being unable to exercise very often. When I got my results, I was unsure who was more shocked, the radiographer or me. My T-scores were appallingly low. A score of -2.5 indicates osteoporosis, but mine was -4.5, which meant I had severe osteoporosis.

Degrees of osteoporosis
Mine is severe, meaning there is more air space (in brown) and very little solid bone (shown in beige). It’s a wonder I haven’t entirely disintegrated!!

I was told I could die if I fractured my hip or be left even more disabled if I injured my spine. I have to admit I was scared – very scared. Every move I made seemed risky, and I lived in fear for a while. I became super-careful with everything I did, but two years ago, I tripped over Peanut (my new cat) while transferring from my wheelchair to my walking frame. There I was being rushed off to Accident & Emergency for the second time. I was in agony. I’ve never felt pain like it. After all the x-rays and scans came back, the doctors announced that I’d broken my pelvis, not once, not twice, but in six different places. I don’t do things by halves. If I’m going to have an accident, I’ve got to do it in style!

Strangely enough, contrary to what most people would think, I don’t have any regrets; I’m not angry or bitter or in the least bit dissatisfied with my life. I am who I am. Without the experiences I’ve been through, I wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be Ellie.

My next post (Part Two) will be about my journey back to good health and where I intend to go from here on in.

Okay … these aren’t my legs, but just an indication of where I go next on my journey. Look out for part two.

It’s a Cat’s Life

Princess Peanut – The Royal Portrait

“What do you mean it’s only five o’clock in the morning? Yes, I know you want to go back to sleep, but I’m hungry and want my breakfast. I will jump on your face until you get up and give me some food. You’re being unreasonable.” Honestly, I don’t know; you just can’t get the staff these days! Doesn’t my human realise I’m in charge of this house? I’m royalty, and she’s only the servant.

Finally, I’ve got my breakfast! I’m starving, and all I get is chicken and fish. It’s not good enough! It wouldn’t hurt to invest in a succulent piece of sirloin steak or some caviar for a change. I don’t want this biscuit rubbish either! I know; I’ll sneak out of the cat flap when Mum’s not looking and find my own food.

This is food fit for royalty, is it? I think not!

Thirty minutes later. Ah, ha … I spy a juicy mouse. I’ll creep up behind it and take it by surprise. I do wish it wouldn’t squeak so much! I’ll take it home and show her how brilliant my hunting prowess is. Mum will be so proud of me. Now, if I can just squeeze through the cat flap with it … Damn, I’ve dropped the little critter! I’ll chase after it. Oh, no, it’s run under the fridge. Why is Mum scowling? Isn’t she glad I’ve bought her a gift? “What d’you say? You’d rather have your presents wrapped in pretty paper with a ribbon and a bow?” There’s no pleasing some humans.

Cat and mouse games

The new vet is coming today – I hope she’s nicer than the one I usually have to see. That’s the doorbell; I’ll greet her – that’ll make a good impression. I hope she’s not going to stick one of those needles in me. That’s nice; she’s making a fuss of me. I think I like her apart from her smelling of dog. Meooow! She got me with that needle! That was a nasty trick. Now, she’s trying to clip my claws. Doesn’t she know I need them for climbing the trees out the back? How else would I catch the birds? This is totally unfair. She’s got a fight on her hands now. She called me a little madam – the cheek of it! “If you think I’m staying still on that table, you’ve got another think coming!” I’m out of here.

Two hours later. All that running around in the garden has worn me out. I think I’ll nip home for some rest. I’ll tiptoe up the stairs when Mum’s not looking. Uh ha, she’s left her bedroom door open. I know I’m not supposed to sleep on the bed, but I don’t care. It’s fit for a princess, and I’m just that. I don’t know what the confusion is. I deserve a sumptuous bed, not a cardboard box next to the radiator with a fluffy blanket. She can sleep in my box for a change. She won’t mind one bit, I’m sure.

Four hours later. That was a lovely snooze … yawn … stretch … Look at me. Aren’t I adorable? I’m feeling lazy after all that sleep. I think I’ll go downstairs and chill out with a bit of TV. My favourite programme, Tom & Jerry, is on this afternoon. I like an action movie …

Where’s Tom & Jerry gone?

“Mum … Mum … this isn’t Tom & Jerry! Come here! Quick! Change the TV station, would you? I’m missing my programme! How dare you tell me you’ve just sat down with a coffee! How could you do that to the Royal Princess?” I don’t know; what do you have to do to get the slaves to work in this place? It’s just not good enough. “Right! No more presents for you! No mice, no slow worms, no birds, no nothing! That’ll teach you! Why are you grinning from one ear to the other? How dare you disrespect me! Right … that’s it! You’re fired!

Fast Forward

Photo credit – Unsplash

Okay – you’ve guessed it! That’s not me in the above photo! Surprised? I didn’t think you would be. It’s just that it was difficult finding an image of a wheelchair in motion. You mean to say I had you fooled for a moment 😁? No? I’ll retract that then!

It’s now only three days since I got home from being in hospital. I’m still absolutely exhausted and rather sore (only to be expected). What I want to say is that I’m running as fast as I can to catch up with all (or at least some) of your posts that I’ve missed while I was away from home. I’m not succeeding very well so far. My concentration is shot to pieces, and I currently have the attention span of a gnat. Nevertheless, I remain optimistic and know this is only a temporary blip. I’ll soon be back on form and communicating with everyone a bit more efficiently. Don’t expect miracles too soon, though.

So, that’s where I’m at right now. Please, bear with me a little longer till I get my oomph back. I’m managing to read one of two of your posts but can’t get my brain enough in gear to comment. I feel like I’ve got a head full of rice pudding. Don’t ask me to expand on that thought further.

In the meantime, thank you all for your kind comments and for caring about me. I do love my WordPress family. Have a great rest of the day (unless it’s the middle of the night where you are). Love to you all. Ellie xx 💖🥰💞

Fashion Shopping for the Reluctant

Photo by freestocks on Unsplash

I thought I’d share this piece I wrote for part of my coursework just for something different. I had to choose something I found boring written from someone else’s perspective.

How about we meet up in town for a coffee, Ellie? It’s about time we had a good catch-up. Let’s go to Costa – they make excellent coffee there, and the cakes are delicious. I’ll meet you at 11 am outside Boots.

11 am came, and we met as planned.

Darling! Lovely to see you again; how are you doing? You look a bit tired; too many late nights? Let’s go and queue up at Costa’s – they’re bound to be busy. You grab us a table and park your wheelchair; I’ll get the coffees. What cake would you like? They make a fabulous carrot cake.

Well, that was a perfect cappuccino, and that cake was amazing. Is that the time? I wanted to go to a few shops to look for a dress for the office party. I love shopping for clothes. You don’t mind coming with me, do you? I thought you might like to help me choose. Let’s go to River Island – they sell very stylish things there. They’re a bit expensive, but it’s worth it to get something fashionable, don’t you think? I don’t want to turn up in something boring and old fashioned. Ooh! Look at that dress? It’s down the end of the shop – let’s go and have a look. And, it’s blue, my favourite colour. You don’t mind if I go and try it on, do you? No, I didn’t think you would. I won’t be long; you wait there.

Fifteen minutes later

Oh, I’m sorry I was so long, darling. You should have seen the length of the queue! I decided against that dress; it made me look frumpy. Let’s try somewhere else. We can go to H & M. They’ve got some lovely clothes in there too; they’re very stylish and cheaper than River Island. This is so exciting! Oh, look at that red top over there! I think I like that more than the dress. It’ll go with my new black trousers. I bought them in the sale at Matalan last week. I think they’d look smart together. I’ll just go and try it on. I won’t be long; the queue doesn’t look as long as in the first shop. You wait here.

Four minutes later

Nope – this top isn’t right either; it makes me look too wide around the bust. It’s such a shame; it looked so lovely on the mannequin, too. How about we go to Next? It’s only up the end of the High Street. Come on. Next is a bit pricey, but it is for a special occasion; I don’t mind paying more. Goodness, it’s getting busy everywhere. I suppose lots of people are shopping during their lunch hours. Ooh! Stop a minute. Let’s pop into Primark as we’re passing. Look! They’ve got a beautiful yellow top in the window. That’ll go well with those black trousers too, and it looks so summery. Yes, I know it’s a bit crowded to get your wheelchair through, but I’m sure you don’t mind, do you? I’ll head off to the changing rooms; you catch me up in a minute. Okay?

Ten minutes later

Ellie!? Oh, there you are. Come into the cubicle with me; you can have a proper look. What do you think of this? Don’t you love it? Do you reckon this colour suits me – come on, be honest? Personally, I think it’s my favourite item so far. You wait outside the fitting rooms while I get changed out of it. Why don’t you start queuing up; it’s a long queue? I won’t be long; I’ll be as quick as possible. Save me a place. We won’t have such a long wait to pay that way. Well, that was a bargain, wasn’t it?

Oh, hang on a tic; I’ve just seen a necklace in the window; it’ll go brilliantly with the rest of my outfit, don’t you think? I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Wait here. I shan’t be long. The queue has died down a bit now.

Twenty-five minutes later.

I’m so sorry, Ellie. Isn’t it typical? I was standing behind this woman in the queue, and as she went to pay, she couldn’t find her credit card. The checkout girl asked if she had any cash or would she like her to put it back for her. She confirmed she had money and got her brown suede purse out of her Marks & Spencer carrier bag. Then, she asked the cashier if she’d mind taking coins as she didn’t have any notes. And then, would you believe it, she emptied her purse and counted out a mixture of pound coins, 50ps and copper and then realised she was short of £3.50! Honestly, you should have seen the checkout girl’s face! I could tell she wasn’t impressed, but she was polite and offered to put the necklace back on the stand after serving the other customers. It was my turn next, and by now, the queue had backed up all the way to the customer service till at the end. That woman got some filthy looks from the people behind her. I’d have been so embarrassed if that were me, wouldn’t you? I hope you didn’t mind waiting for me for so long; I knew you’d understand. Do you fancy another coffee? I’ll put that necklace on, and you can take a photo of me wearing it and then share it on my Facebook page. You don’t mind, do you? Oh, damn, there’s a queue for coffee now. Just our luck! Let’s call it a day! I’m glad you didn’t mind coming with me. I knew you’d enjoy it. We had such fun together, didn’t we?

Who’s the Boss?

Peanut (aka the boss) at home

Establishing who’s the boss in my house is a tough one. You may have heard the saying, “A dog has masters, a cat has slaves”. It’s certainly true in my home!

I have a much-loved, adorable, tortoiseshell moggy called Peanut. I named her Peanut because when I rescued her, she was a tiny kitten the colour of a dry roasted peanut! What better reason. She’s the first pet I’ve had since living alone (quite happily, too). Although she’s now two-and-a-half years old, she’s still quite petite and looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But … don’t be fooled by her angelic looks. She’s no angel. She’s feisty, doesn’t like being picked up or held and is picky about her food, only eating the expensive stuff. She doesn’t like the beef or lamb cat food, only chicken, turkey or fish, fussy little madam. It’s just as well that I’m vegan with the cost of meat these days! To begin with, I found it challenging to buy poultry or fish cat food, but cats are carnivorous, and it wouldn’t be fair to expect her to be anything else. It was my choice to take her in; therefore, it’s only reasonable that she is fed naturally and responsibly. 

She also does what comes naturally to cats – she’s a hunter (unfortunately for me and her prey, of course). I’ve lost count of the number of mice I’ve had to chase around the kitchen floor after. Not the easiest of tasks in a wheelchair. Some have survived to tell another tale (pun not intended), but others, sadly, have met their demise.

She did catch a baby bird the Spring before last. I managed to rescue it from Peanut’s jaws; it appeared uninjured but was definitely in shock and hardly moving. I wrapped it in soft tissue for warmth and protection and popped it into a relatively small empty box. I then had the slowest of journeys up to the vets an hour away while trying to shield the little mite from the wind and the broken paving beneath my wheels. Once I arrived, the vet examined it and declared it to be uninjured, as I’d thought. That was a relief. They took it in to care for it and were going to send it to the local wildlife rescue centre until it had grown enough to be released safely. It turned out to be a baby Great Tit. Unfortunately, the butterflies she catches fare less well. Last week, she caught a slow worm (rather lovely creatures and much-needed for the garden, as are all worms). Fortunately, this one did survive completely unscathed and got put back in the garden, whereas Peanut got put in the living room with me to give the slow worm time to make a quick getaway. They can move pretty fast.

The one that got away!

Going to bed is another matter. She doesn’t like being shut-in, but I couldn’t have her bringing in all and sundry while I sleep upstairs. Firstly, I’d be none the wiser when I got up, and secondly, I wouldn’t stand a chance of finding her live prey in the morning if it had run under the fridge or washing machine. She’s got her biscuit, water, and litter tray, so is quite comfortable. But the fuss she makes when I go to bed is only to be seen. I’ve tried taking her up to bed with me in case she’s lonely; she then decides to shin up the curtains and plays leapfrog from the chest of drawers to the dressing table, knocking off everything on them. I wouldn’t mind if she quietly settled down next to me, but I swear she thinks she was an Olympic athlete in one of her previous lives. But, for all that, I love her dearly and couldn’t imagine being without her. She’s become a good companion … when it suits her!

Peanut asleep on my sister’s lap – Day One
“You can’t see me”

The Dentist

(Image courtesy of Top Doctors – Google)

It was a gloriously sunny day when I set off for the dentist despite it being the beginning of March … chilly though. The practice wasn’t far from where I live. I arrived early as I always do. My appointment time was at 2 pm and I was pleased that I had nearly twenty minutes to read my book. I was so completely absorbed that I hardly noticed the time until my dentist, Natasha, came dashing through the side door of the surgery and headed for the treatment room. It was then that I noticed she had no mask on. I’ve never seen her without it before as she hasn’t been my dentist for very long. It suddenly struck me how pretty she was, what a beautiful smile she had and how she looked at least ten years younger than I thought her to be. I wanted to tell her this; compliment her, but then I considered that it was, perhaps, a little too personal to express this to a professional and one I hadn’t known for very long.

A couple of minutes past my appointment time, the dental nurse, Charlie, put her head around the door and called me in. I made my way across the busy waiting room and lined myself up with the treatment room door. The doorway is very narrow as the building was once an old house and not built for wheelchairs, especially a large electric one like mine.

And so, as usual, I started to unpack the pannier at my side and the full-to-the-brim carrier bag hanging off of my wheelchair arm. We have this ‘performance’ every time I go there! I could feel the eyes of the other patients in the waiting room all glued to my back and I wasn’t sure whether they were thinking, “she’ll never get through that gap” or, “for goodness’ sake, get a move on!” I proceeded to unload my red metal reusable water bottle, an empty Tupperware box that housed yesterday’s sandwiches, a frozen Marks and Spencer’s Thai Green Curry for my dinner that night, a large head of broccoli, a litre bottle of fresh orange juice and my blue reusable coffee mug complete with a wodge of newspaper to keep the coffee hot on my journeys. The mug had the lukewarm remains of the coffee I’d bought in town but I decided against finishing it to avoid opening wide and blasting coffee breath in the dentist’s direction!

After a couple of minutes, the dental nurse had piled all my worldly goods onto a chair in the treatment room and I inched my way, bit-by-bit, through the tight doorway. I was aware that everyone was watching me unpack everything and wondered whether they’d been curious as to what was coming next. Having finally unloaded everything but the kitchen sink, I was almost expecting a round of applause from the unimpressed patients in the waiting room. “Not much chance of that,” I thought to myself.

Finally, I entered the room and was helped into the chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the instruments of torture all sterilised, gleaming metal and waiting to attack me! My stomach lurched spectacularly. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience. It never is. It’s almost unheard of for me to escape the eager clutches of my otherwise lovely dentist without needing probing and prodding and worst still, injecting with nasty tasting anaesthetic. Three numb minutes later, just as the drill was heading in my direction, I asked the dentist, as I stared at the ceiling if she’d ever considered putting posters up there to direct the attention of the unfortunate patient from what was happening. She said something about health and safety so I guessed the answer was no. I tightly shut my eyes as if, in doing so, I could pretend I was at the cinema, the theatre, the beach or the fair – anywhere my imagination could take me – anything would be preferable to where I was right then.

Thirty-five minutes later with three amalgam fillings, a scale and polish and one shiny new crown, I was then allowed to sit upright in the chair. I swished my mouth out with pink mouthwash and spat it into the bowl. I was then helped back into my wheelchair and was eager to get out. Charlie handed me my belongings, bit by bit again, after I’d squeezed back through the narrow door and I repacked everything. As I did so, I noticed there were bits of stray broccoli on the seat of the chair and a puddle where my frozen meal had started to defrost!  I muttered a hasty apology, then thought I ought to make a quick exit … I went up to the reception desk to pay the bill and waited while my bank card went through the sickening and painful process of coming out exactly £282.80 lighter!! The receptionist looked at me and smiled. As she did so a big, sloppy dribble ran very obviously down my still numb chin and into the neck of my jumper! Oh, the embarrassment …

Beginning to write my memoirs …

3 Important Things You Need to Consider BEFORE You Write Your Story — Jevon  Bolden

It’s been more than eight years ago since I first joined WordPress and at least three years since I last wrote anything. Where do I pick up from? So much has happened between then and now that I scarcely know quite where to begin. Perhaps, I should start with the now, and, if necessary, fill in the gaps from ‘then’ as I go along.

I’ve been doing some amateur writing courses over the last year or so; I’ve thoroughly enjoyed them and have learned a lot. Having spoken to my tutor earlier, I decided that I’d like to write my memoirs, but I don’t intend to rehash my often angst-ridden posts from several years ago. I’m going to try and write about my life as a series of personal experiences, but not necessarily in chronological order. Some of my memories will be serious or emotional, but equally, some will be events that, on looking back, are definitely amusing.

I don’t know how often I’m going to write at this moment. I think I will add to my repurposed blog as and when the fancy takes me. After all, when recording one’s memoirs, it’s important to do so when the time feels right, and not to try and write according to the day on the calendar. 

I’m also very open to ideas, feedback, and suggestions that anyone wishes to make because I realise that I’m in no way a professional writer, nor do I pretend to be. I’m eager to learn more, both from my readers and also from my own experiences of writing in a whole new way.

I’m going to leave it here for the time being. However, I’m hoping to publish my first piece in the next couple of days. I hope you’ll bear with me while I find my feet again on this platform. Looking forward to meeting some of you again, perhaps from a new perspective, and also meeting others for the first time. Thank you, Ellie.

LOOKING ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.

don't need to sit on a cactus

I certainly was given a cactus many years ago as is evident in my earlier writings about my very abusive childhood and not too pretty adulthood. I don’t intend to go back to that time of my life. It’s now a case of ‘been there; done that’, you’ll be pleased to hear. I’ve been sitting on the cactus for too long, and it’s getting too prickly so, now is the time to get off.

I’ve been taking life far too seriously of late so, although there may still be the odd solemn post because life isn’t always a bundle of laughs, on the whole, I want to lighten up a bit. [“Phew”] – Was that a big sigh of relief that I detected from my faithful followers? Yes? I don’t blame you – it’s as much of a relief to me as it is to you 🙂

Yep! It’s true that I will always have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) or Emotional Intensity Disorder [as they are now beginning to refer to this condition] and this really can mess up my head at times. I’ve included an excellent link to explain what it’s like living inside the mind of some people with BPD. Please take the time to read it if you are interested – it’s not long-winded or boring, I promise: http://themighty.com/2016/07/how-to-explain-borderline-personality-disorder-to-loved-ones/

So, what of late? George (my new wheelchair, if you haven’t yet been introduced), is behaving himself brilliantly, and I love the fact that I can whizz down the path by the river at a colossal speed of 6mph. That’s 2mph faster than Charlie ever did although, fair credit to him – he did turn on a sixpence with much more finesse than George. George is nippier, although the little devil doesn’t much like getting up too close and personal with the veg section in my local Tesco’s. As for poor old Charlie, he’s sitting and looking very bored in the garage but as from today, he’s up for sale, on eBay listed as having been ‘a dear friend to one careful lady owner’ and ‘in need of a new home’. Although he’s seen better days and won’t go the distance anymore, he’ll do someone a good turn if they just want him for indoor and local use.

Oh, have I not mentioned the new addition to the family? I am now the very proud owner of a two gleaming, new, white patio doors (twins, of course). They’re sleeping soundly at present down at the dining-room end of my living-room. When they get mucky, they much prefer a duster to a wet-wipe. I’ve not named them yet; however, several names spring to mind, Tom & Jerry, Fred & Freda, Ant & Dec … I’m undecided. All suggestions are very welcome. They are looking very grand which is about the amount much they bumped up my credit card bill by. Needs must, though – with fair due, they’ve seen better days, 10,957 of them, in fact! I will bid you adieu while I leave you working out the equation of days into years.