I’VE JUST COME HOME from today’s Big Adventure: A shopping trip to Tesco with Ems (#1) that offered a different lower perspective on life. I’ve practised navigating one of them shopping trolleys for disabled people. You know the big chunky ones you attach to the wheelchair so that you have somewhere to put your groceries. The ones you can actually reach, that is. And that’s not that many.

When you get a chance to see the world from my new, distinctly lower, perspective you quickly realise that being tall is da shit. At least if you want something nice. Or something good. If it’s nice or good it is always located on the top shelves or deep down the fridges and freezers. If you’re in a wheelchair you can’t reach either of them. In between, they chuck all those things people will take the trouble to go searching, or asking, for. Not because they want it, but because they need it. Tinned tomatoes. Flour. Toilet roll. Mustard. Shoe shine. Milk. What kind of fancy dinner do you cook with that, I wonder?

I guess it’s a fair assumption to make that wheelers aren’t exactly the main target group when it comes to attracting customers with fat wads of money to spend. But still. It’s a bit vexing when you’ve managed to get to the shop, and managed to negotiate your way around the disabled trolley thingie, to find that all you can really buy unless you’ve brought an extra pair of hands (or can be bothered asking for help once a minute) is toilet roll and milk. Good stuff to have at home, for sure, but pretty dull for a Sunday dinner.

Luckily, I had Ems with me, so we’re actually getting a lovely Sunday dinner after all. Avocado with some shellfish goo. Salmon with a yummy salad. Pannacotta with raspberries. And some wine, of course. Some cheese and exotic sausages later on. If I can stay awake. At the moment she is making herself busy in the kitchen and I am staying as far away from her as I can. She’s not very civil when she’s cooking, so I feel it’s better to just leave and let her get on with it. In my kitchen…

Speaking of poor layouts and constructions, my Mustang seems to be a Monday job. It prefers to go left unless you work hard on the steering. It’s as if the right wheel can’t quite reach the floor, if that makes sense. Well, it doesn’t, but nevertheless that’s the way it is. And the foot rest keeps touching the ground as soon as the surface gets a bit rough. Which is pretty much all the time in London.

With a foot plate that is too low, travelling on the pavements is a dangerous activity. Without warning the chair gets stuck and you have to hold on for dear life so as not to end up with your nose in the dirt. (Maybe this is why it came with a seat belt?) You can set the foot plate higher. I’ve checked. But if I do, I can’t rest my foot on it as I can’t bend my knee. And I’m pretty sure the whole point of a foot plate is to have somewhere to put your foot. I’m currently trying to work out whether it’d be better if I got a thicker cushion to sit on? Or if there’s another clever way of solving this problem?

Maybe I’ll just leave it for the Boss Man. I’m sure he could do with something to get his head around when he returns from his holiday. Me, I’m off to enjoy dinner with the pack.

So long, sweetheart.

//Evalena 💜🖤

This post was previously published on in January 2011.


After 25+ years of anonymous blogging on a number of free platforms, I decided to go pro and put all of my writings on a private wall in the imaginary pirate ship I have named after one of my most prominent character traits: Resilience.

In my personal blogs, I primarily write about living the dream and how to keep on living and loving when everything around you seems to be falling apart. Professionally, I write about writing, personal and professional development, business studies, communication and writing.

My ambition was for the Resilience to become a source of inspiration, but I also hoped this old ship of mine would provide a space where we could talk, teach each other our tricks, and learn new things together.

As a lifelong Spoonieverse resident, I soon found that there is a lens, a shared experience, that only other spoonies understand. It didn’t fit in with my other content, and it upset certain readers. And that’s how the Spoonieverse blog was born. It was a place where I could allow myself to be me, just the way I am, and talk about all aspects about spoonielife without making apologies or having to take responsibility for the feelings of normies.

So far, this experience has been so much better than anything I’ve ever dreamed of. It has brought some incredible people into my life, and it has given me opportunities I may have missed out on had it not been for this blog and the Spoonieverse community. 

In 2023, I launched Operation Lexit to lead me out of London and get me back on the road again. Wanna tag along and see what happens?


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