I couldn't resist the Christmas lights and the wish that some rampaging cat would have done this to the whole 40 kms we were forced to put up.
Every Christmas I usually end up not speaking to my sister which is why I buy a present for her early in the year before the declaration of war.
But this year she has excelled herself and I'm still trying to work out if I was insulted on purpose, insulted by her not thinking, her being concerned for my well being. I could just go on and on trying to work it out.
It came at the end of the phone call about Doc Marvin along with a few other snippy bits she threw in and I'd forgotten about it until last night. I am not approaching Alz, I was just tired from the day and sick of her attacks on me so I just let it slide.
I was told very forcefully not to donate or sell mum's wheelchair when she goes. 'The Wheelchair", the one costing 6 grand with a pool and room for a pony. She has never had a pressure sore or been uncomfortable in it and it is so heavy I can't push it. And why am I not to try and recover some of this money? You do remember that Elvis hasn't left the room yet and it's still being used.
Well, you see, it's very likely that I will need it for myself.
BOOM BOOM GOBSMACK!