I CAN'T SAY I WASN'T WARNED

I was told I would fall flat out when everything was settled but, hey, I can handle that.
I can't.
The migraine has been followed by total inertia.
The only reason the bed will be made tonight is because I dragged all the cat be-furred sheets off it this morning. I did change the doona cover, took 40 minutes to do that.
I moved one piece of furniture.
I talked the mowerman into taking out the bins for me.
I fed the birds.
I fed the cat, twice.
I had breakfast about midday.
I don't remember when I last had a shower.
I do remember when I cleaned my teeth, I threw up in the basin, bloody migraine.
I am surrounded by things I must do but can't be bothered summoning up the energy.
In my mind everything has magically sorted itself into its proper place without any trouble but the reality is that they're still sitting on the floor.
I don't want chocolate.
I don't want a G&T.
I don't even want ice-cream.
Why am I in the pit?
Because the whole ghastly parade of my life is in photographs that I've inherited from mother. Every time I pick up another page to keep or throw out, there I am in the middle of another miserable memory. My mother said I was a quiet child, always sitting in a corner if we went out. Did she ever think to fucking ask why I did this? I was terrified of everything around me, people, noise, new places, kids being kids, cruel mostly.
So what does this have to do with now?
Buggered if I know but it's great therapy to tear up photos.

DIM THE LIGHTS

Tip toe to the centre of the stage.

Raise the red curtains.

Spotlight.

AND THE FAT LADY SINGS......................


Oh, I just hope I'm not being premature with the celebrations.
The bank accounts are closed.
The pension transferred to St. George.
The final account from SE Water has arrived.
The Will has been signed and solicitor paid.

I think it's all finished. I can start shredding papers. I can think about getting a life.

THE FAT LADY CAN HIT A HIGH NOTE NOW.........

MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA

Well, not quite but if you could have seen a little old lady dressed in pink, holding a pink Japanese parasol, waving a white and silver fan being driven down the streets of Mentone today then those images are what she would have looked like. Fortunately for me I can't push the wheelchair because it's too big and heavy but I was the one running in front listening to a string of commands. There were four wheelies heading for the garden cafe, just one of their haunts for cake and coffee. Next week they're off to the Sportsman's Club in Mordialloc. They've given up trying to have fish and chips at the pier and there goes my dream of seeing mother beating off seagulls with her pink parasol.
I did have an absolute brainwave on the way to the cafe as it's halfway between the home and her solicitor, so I rang to see if her will was ready. It was, the secretary came down, she witnessed it, one of the social workers witnessed it and one more thing is off the list.
AGL has given me a 53 cent credit for the gas bill. There's no way I can collect a stupid amount like that but just think of how many households have given up 53 cents and those money grabbers are way out in front.
I've put loads of loot in her home trust account, more credits on her mobile and the only thing that would make her more happy is to take my shiny homyped shoes off my feet. I'll try them on her on Sunday and if they fit, I'll buy her a new pair. After all a geisha has standards.
She has developed an allergy on her face and the nurses can't work out what from but with all the wind we've been having, she only needs a spot of pollen on her skin to start something up. It's why we never take her flowers or give her perfume so the girls are checking the rooms for any pollen type flowers. I'm glad I didn't listen to family and bought her the mobile, just being able to ring me last night made her feel better especially after the third call.
The daughter of the new lady in the room still doesn't get the message about personal space. The nurse I spoke to tonight said that there were far too many visitors in the room last night, not only was my mother ill and tired but new lady was exhausted as well. I really hate to have to put it in writing and make an official complaint as I'm not the one in the room but the directors have noticed and now that I've spoken up, will quietly have a word.
So after all my doing good things all day, I came a cropper. I might have paid off mum's credit card but I forgot to close it down, jeepers charges! If her pension goes into St George tomorrow then I can go and close cheque and credit card down. How stupid to think because it was paid off that it went away. I plead stress and hysteria.
Only two letters to come, Dept. of Ageing and the final water account and I'm finished. What a bloody nightmare.

"MADNESS IN THE MEADOW"

That's the name Van Cleef and Arpels have given this one off piece of jewellery. The centre stone is a six point, twenty-one carat mauve sapphire surrounded by smaller mauve sapphires and diamonds. I would love to see this particular sapphire up close and personal, just to see if it glows like this. Twenty one carats of mauve loveliness and that is one big chunk of rock that could only be carried to perfection by a large red-headed tart with champagne tastes on beer money.

SOME IDIOT GETS MONEY FOR THESE IDEAS

Behold, a traffic light sandwich for the kiddies' lunch box. Cheese on the bottom, tomato up one end and lettuce down the other and make sure the cheese shows in the middle. You will notice the crusty bits have been sawn off so the little horrors don't break their teeth.
If I picked this up I would have every ingredient down the front of me in two seconds.
Not even June Cleaver would go this far.