Tuesday, July 31, 2012

It's just another day


It's that day again where I go into the streets and frighten the horses by wobbling the wrinkles at them.
Is it champagne and cake, no, it's visit with Mummy day where she gets to remind me how old I am.
I did have one bit of luck, the BOH has left a can of vodka at the back of the fridge and it's all mine.
Do you realize that because it's my birthday it means that this year is past the half way mark to 2013?
Oh well, another day older and deeper in debt.
When all's said and done, the only age I'd go back to is 2004 when I'd lost 20 kgs and the housework was done and I could leap tall buildings with a single bound.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Here he is, at last.


First photo with his eyes open and still looking a bit worried about this whole new world .
That's Dad's thumb holding those little feet.

I had a real walk through my life yesterday when Sister rang to ask if I had photos of her with the BOH when he was born. Two hours later I'd been through all of mum's photos and retrieved a load to go to a new generation.  Photos included several of his beloved cat and numerous shots of various cars he's owned over the years.  I included one photo of my son with his first daughter at almost the same age as this little fella and he has the same besotted look although 20 years separate the two births.

I also found a card sent to his grandmother from my son and I don't remember it at all but I did carefully put it away. He never bought a card without finding one with the right words and these are so lovely, I've told Mum they're going in her eulogy.

It's always a bad idea to go through photos especially before another birthday.  The days when I had hair so long I could sit on it.  And I was not that big, but enough for my in-laws to drive me crazy with tips on dieting. A compulsive eater should always ask, "Who are you eating at?" and it was always them.  I would eat like a bird when I visited and drive through Macca's on the way home. 

And there's been a sighting of my ex and the blonde. He's balding, she's just fat, and they're both still obnoxious. How Lovely!

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

I'm still breathing and sniffing and coughing.

Damn virus seems to have embedded itself in my DNA much like the malware which is still haunting the rootkit defying all attempts to dislodge it from the computer.
I was okay yesterday but today the squeak is back in my lung and the headache is warming up at the back of my eyes.
I haven't seen the baby yet nor has anyone sent photos via email.  Stupid iphones that take photos, doesn't do me any good unless I receive one or two via computer.  I am still waiting for the chipboard and mattress to be removed so I can get into that room and fold up the sofa then I can pack up the rest of his clothes and shut the door on the last two years.  Mind you, his habit of dropping change anywhere near the bed was handy if I only had large notes for the taxi fare, a bit of scrabbling around and I could usually count on 5 dollars in hand.
I've tried shopping on line again but it's not really working for me. Okay for when I don't feel well like the last three weeks but I'm still off to Southland tomorrow for bits and pieces. There's no provision for ordering one of something, like one carrot and last time I ended up with 10 tomatoes and 5 zucchini and how do I get across that I only need a really tiny piece of pumpkin.  I have a feeling that two bags that arrived this morning were not mine, I didn't order two bottles of White King toilet cleaner nor stir fry vegetables, stir fry Chinese greens, yes and they were on the delivery list.  And I do like my bread to be square not squashed into several different shapes which I have to straighten out before it goes in the freezer.
I've also had three phone calls asking for my ex-husband.  I didn't bother to ask what they wanted except for the one this morning.  Terrific, I'm really going to put my trust in Origin power when they don't know the real owner of the house and they want to speak to the man of the house instead of the woman answering the call.
I really think that this time I was entitled to tell them to piss off.
I am reading blogs but commenting needs a full brain and mine's off somewhere waiting for spring. I'm also reading books but biographies make me feel inadequate and television seems to have nothing but "fat people are killing the earth" stuff on but I am waiting for the finale of Masterchef to see who gets the gong. I watch it because all that hard work makes me to lazy to cook anything beyond toast and vegemite or boiled eggs.
Not watching the Olympics either.
Not eating chocolate, can't taste it.  
Chocolate eclair, two weeks ago was delicious. I'm living on the memory of it.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Damn virus.

I am sick of running eyes, clogged up running nose, sneezes that could power a jet engine, coughing up bits of lung and headaches. 
Mind you I have developed a rapid response reflex with my thigh muscles when I feel a sneeze coming on otherwise it would be Depends time.
The damn virus has entrenched itself like the stinking bit of malware that is still hiding in a rootkit in the middle of the computer. I keep killing off bits of it so the malware tells me but it must regenerate overnight, much like this rotten cold.
This is the first time I've been able to sit at the computer without wanting to fall off the chair. Actually my chair by the fire is the place where I've done most of my sleeping and coughing.
The little mother finally left hospital today and the BOH has gone over to stay with her.  They kept the baby in because he wasn't feeding well but he's got the hang of it now. I'm waiting on photos to post of something that is only 43 centimetres long and my computer monitor is longer than that. I can't remember them being so small.
Anyway there seems to be some movement on the house front, thank goodness.
Poor me, I can't go to see mother until I feel this virus is gone, about two months should do it.
I still say Werther's Original toffees are the best for the throat followed by Fisherman's Friend.  And if you do buy the FF, read the packet because now they have a ziplock top, found that out after hacking at it with the scissors at the wrong end.
And just to liven things up, the new smartmeter is in and I can't understand a word of the instructions.  The gum tree across the street has busted up the watermains again and this time the stupid Council should take it down.  It's the third time it's happened but they keep insisting it's a tree of note and is on the register. The electricity choppers keep taking out the centre away from the lines but it just means the branches are growing across the road my way and across the inground pool the other way.  A bit of common sense would be nice but we are dealing with the local council here.
It's like trying to deal with a virus, you get nowhere fast.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Early arrival.

A baby boy.
Four hours labour.
Father already bonding with baby as he phones us. I could hear the baby noises and he said he was holding him as he rang.
I don't know the weight.
He has some hair.
No name yet and my suggestion that he be called "homeless" did not go down well.
He asked that I don't see the baby yet because I'm sick.  
Two hours and he's a concerned parent. There's light at the end of the tunnel.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Sick, real sick not 'fully sick'

Mother has been very generous with her germs.  My chest refuses to breathe properly and someone has poured broken glass down my throat. Every arthritic part of me is hurting.

And we are still waiting on the baby to arrive.  Little mother was supposed to be induced yesterday but it was cancelled because there were too many babies in the nursery.  It is now on the agenda for this afternoon.

They are still homeless and what did I say back in January?  No landlord is going to rent to a pregnant unmarried female on a pension.  Now her parents are running round looking for homes for them.
I could cheerfully beat the lot of them with a fence post...and laugh.....hysterically.

Now going to have honey in hot water, no lemon juice, it hurts too much.   And diabetic or not, I can live on tea and toast with vegemite.  And while Miss O'Dyne swears by vinegar and salt crisps to kill germs, it is a shop too far to walk to. 

I will be back sometime with news.

Thursday, July 05, 2012

I hate July.

It's only the 5th day.
My Mother is very ill with lung rot which came up in 24 hours.
The expectant mother is in hospital with pre-eclampsia.
The expectant father is falling apart at the seams.
My sister is still telling me that everything will come right.

I just hope the pub doesn't burn down and crash the pokies.

And there was fog this morning and 4.6 temperature.

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

All I did was turn a corner...

I've had some weird experiences in my life, a 30 year marriage for starters but yesterday was out of the ball park.
I know of a love triangle.
I know one side of the triangle.
I've heard about one side of the triangle.
But yesterday I was talking to a stranger who nearly ran over my foot with her bicycle and discovered that she was the missing side of the triangle.
Do I have a face that invites salacious gossip to be downloaded to my mind in a voice that richoceted round Mentone, through Coles and up to the station to catch a train?
I've never seen the woman before and I've been wandering those streets for 3 years.
It started innocently enough, bicycle, running over, apologize and did I see Australian Story about Diana Bliss?
I meant to but I was cruising Space in Babylon 5 at the time.
We agreed she was a poor soul, very ill and goddess only knows why she married him because love is definitely deaf, dumb and blind.
Well, she had been in that situation herself, loved someone, had a child, engaged to be married and jilted and all her money couldn't stop him pissing off with a brainless tart.  Know the feeling, thinks I.
And she couldn't understand being left for some fat unlovely creature of the underclass when she herself was elegant and refined and wealthy.
The name of the fat unlovely creature was mentioned.
GASP, CHOKE, ROAR OF LAUGHTER.
Yes, dear Madam (lipstick running into the channels of her wrinkly mouth) I know her well.
She lives at the nursing home two ticks from where we are standing.
Where she is always moaning that the worse thing that happened, besides the MS, was the death of her darling husband.
Apparently darling husband hadn't told her he was leaving her and going back to the other side of the triangle and in fact had been going off with the triangle every time wife had trundled off to respite care.
He died of a massive heart attack while packing the car prior to piss off.
Triangle Three was in respite care and came straight to the Home.
Missing part of the triangle asked if his brother and sister cleaned out the house which I knew they had.
MPotT said they'd have gone into the roof and under the floorboards since they knew where he used to keep all his cash.  A lot of which came from the sale of the pre-marriage home of him and MPotT because she was wealthy and so was her mother and her grandmother.
Have I mentioned that MPotT had a son to Triangle One?
According to my mother, Triangle Three has no idea that there was a son.
According to my mother Triangle Three was a virgin when she married Triangle One after knowing him six weeks.
According to MPotT the only thing Triangle Three had going for her was her rep for being the best back of Ute R--t.
And so, dear readers, Triangle One mended fences with MPotT saying that he had made a terrible mistake and married the wrong woman and now wanted a happy ending.
Karma bites.
Triangle One falls to heart attack.
MPotT lives to tell tale to strangers but all her money (and apparently ex-husbands) can't erase a face full of wrinkles due to years of loathing at being left for a non-entity with a bum like a working bullock. (it's here that I begin to care, she says I am overly large but extremely elegant for it)
Triangle Three has progressing MS but before you thing I am cruel, she is nothing like our lovely Elephant's Child who disregards her MS in order to help other people.  TT is, and I suspect, always has been a whiner and a bit on the mean side.
MPotT from now on is going to be looking out for TT as she passes every Cafe in Mentone.
Revenge is never pretty but it is going to be entertaining.

Sunday, July 01, 2012

July, how come it's July?

July 1st, damn, 30 days to go before another birthday.
The homeless are still homeless.
July 1st, are you sure?
The last week has gone past very quickly but July already.
I know it's winter, walking to the corner shop for the paper almost led to frostbite this morning.
Even the spiders are looking for warm spots but did the Huntsman have to drop in my cloak to find it. He was lucky when he bounced off the boobs that I didn't step on him but he was so big it would have taken an industrial vaccy to get the remains out of the carpet.
July, I was sure I had more time before I left 63.
I'm supposed to be typing out the minutes of the meeting of relatives and residents at the Home but my fingers won't work properly which probably has something to do with the brain freezing and my feet have no feeling.
I have an invite to a party on the 21st of July. Upwey, Dandenong Ranges Upwey.  It's July, it's freezing in Cheltenham in July, up there it snows in July.  Anyway I'm not going unless they have a cake for me too.
Arthritis hates July, my bones complain. I can hear them whining through the blubber. Inuits say blubber keeps you warm in winter.  I can tell you it's not doing much for me.
I had a 15 minute fight with a new pack of clingwrap this morning.  For years I have been opening packs of clingwrap and never needed an instruction book until now.  You cannot just flip up the lid, you have to cut along the edge and don't use one finger, you'll have a paper cut to the bone. Take out the clingwrap and follow the red arrow to find the edge of the plastic and remember to swear when the red arrow breaks before that happens.  Drag cling wrap out and try to tear along serrated edge which isn't there. But there it is underneath the cardboard belonging to the flip up lid you've just cut through.  Rip off cardboard, remember there is a steel edge there.  Yes, you can swear when you forget and slice through another finger. When did 'elf and safety go insane on clingwrap?
It isn't raining but I'm on the third bucket of dripping water from the spouting near the front door. I should move all three as the letter informing me about the installation of my smart (?) meter  (due next week) says the installer should have clear access to the meter box.  Always helpful I am but in this case the bastard can trip over and drown.
Besides I'm busy removing craft and beading magazines from the study. It's finally penetrated to my frozen brain that I can scan what I want to CD and view it on my little viewer when I am back in my work room sometime in the coming decade.  Fifty magazines gone through and another 40 to go. They're damn heavy or I'm getting too old to be picking up heavy magazines.  Anyway it is one of those sitting down by the fire jobs just perfect for winter.
It's almost the anniversary of the passing of the cat.  My gas bill is down because I'm not getting up at 6 to put the fire on for the frosted moggie.  The BOH is still mourning and homeless. 
So now I'm going to have a drink.  The orange tree at the back door is laden and the fruit is ice cold, about the only good thing about July so far.