Monday, January 09, 2017

GroundHog Year


Black tipped sharks gathering near the Seychelles, it reminds me of our elected leaders returning to Canberrra with suitcases of lies and misdirections of their intentions of actually being an excellent Parliament this year.  I don't know why I bothered to write that when we all know it's complete bullshit although that shark second from right looks like our Pauline and the one sneaking in way over the back reminds me of Mal.

Already one has stuffed up with her travel allowances, good on ya, Susan.  Centrelink is like the Oroborus with its tail in its mouth going in circles. Barnaby refused to apologize for the mess and why would anyone let computers do anything after the Census debacle.

Mother still lives, still planning her 90th Birthday.  But my dear Eric the Mower died on Friday. The cancer spread rapidly after the diagnoses and sister has been helping his partner. They've been friends for years but being a nurse does not help when someone close is leaving. The Palliative care team won the praise of sister which doesn't happen often. 

One of my neighbours has visitors and they have brought their dog and by the barking, the thing must be the size of a wolfhound.  The IceBear was about to go out last night, had one little paw on the step when the thing woofed.  I thought I might have to give the boy CPR after he fell to the ground. We don't have dogs anywhere near us and I hope it's gone home.  The brave Bear shot under the coffee table until I had to take him out the front door and stay there until he'd done the rounds of the front yard, didn't bother with the back.  We all know he is a white cat but he'd managed to find the one spot in the garden where I'd put water for the camelia and in came the filthiest muddy mangy looking creature I've seen in  years.  While I was wetting a towell to clean him up, he disappeared so I thought he'd be under the coffee table.  No no no, in the great tradition of cats, he was rolling on my doona, my brand new white doona, the one with splashy colourful flowers interspersed with black paw prints and circles of dirt.  I was not in the mood at near midnight to be changing a king size doona so I went to bed and so did he, right in front of the fan blowing over him instead of me.  

Christmas presents still aren't wrapped.  Dear people, you will get them at some stage, honest.

5 comments:

River said...

I'm sorry, it isn't funny, but to me it is and I laughed my head off at muddy Icebear rolling around on your new white quilt cover.
Sorry to hear he was frightened by a dog though. When you're not used to hearing a loud bark, it can be scary.
Glad to hear mother is still planning her birthday, but sorry you've lost your lawnmower man. I hope you find a decent replacement.
Those sharks are pretty.

Elephant's Child said...

The sharks are much, much prettier than our elected leaders. And infinitely less harmful.
Poor Icebear. Poor you.

Andrew said...

That was mighty inconsiderate of the lawn mower man. Will you be jungle bound?

Annie ODyne said...

oh Coppy comiseration and condolence on the loss of lovely Eric.
Her Majesty is also 90 so watch for queenly delusions by your Mum.
Thanks for the chortling, and ditto everyone above me.
x x

JahTeh said...

River, I nearly jumped out of my skin the bark was so loud and it was his fault if he'd gone out when he was supposed to, at twilight, he wouldn't have had a near heart attack. It's the old girl's 87th birthday in March but she's planning ahead for ninety.

El Chi, I wonder if our want to be President PM is trotting off to see the Innauguration of the other incompetent President who has just made his son-in-law a big shot in the White House. So the Trump Royal House is on it's way.

Andrew, my new mower, Mick had to cut the grass twice to get back the jungle. He costs twice as much but lives local and I'm not worried about him knowing I live alone. You really have to watch the questions you're asked these days and I had one taxi driver ask me if I'd be out all day at Christmas. He wasn't one of my regular drivers so he was told nothing.

Annie, she's had delusions of royalty for years. I've just found out and I'm sure it was on nothing I signed up for 7 years ago, they'll charge $200 a day if I don't pack and get her junk out of the room when she departs. I'm ready for it, I stashed 4 of those big candy striped bags in the high cupboard when she wasn't looking.