Monday, I can't remember at all. Thank goodness I keep a diary but I forgot to write in it.
Tuesday, Mother not well so spent all day with her. Her mouth was well enough to give orders.
Still it was pleasant to have her in bed and be able to have a reasonably quiet time in her room.
Wednesday, I can't remember at all. Thank goodness I keep a diary but I forgot to write in it.
Thursday, shopping day and I forget to do the internet Bpay for the bills so run all over Southland and remember why I'm in love with internet banking. Buy clothes on sale for mother.
Friday, I start out for the bus carrying a sherpa load of stuff for guess who and decide a cab would be better. Even better go to Southland and try and sort out my Harry Potter ticket which Village have managed to stuff up. No joy so spend some more of mother's money. Bad move, she makes me haul out every thing in the wardrobe and put it in piles. One for her, one for me and one for the op shop.
Tuesday night was ladies night at the pub and the beer was free. I forgot that, three beers and I'm gone but I won a prize. Just what I've always wanted, a Bingo Set. I donated it to the Home.
I owe emails to people and you will hear from me, promise.
BrickOutHouse is recovering to the extent of walking 7kms a day.
He insists on putting blocks of chocolate near my mouth and I don't remember eating them.
How he loves Aldi chocolate, unfortunately my innards don't.
I am weary and there is tension but not because of him and I can't vent because the cause of the tension might remember I have a blog.
21 comments:
The cause of that tension is a worry, JahTeh.
Too cryptic by half for me, but I hope the cause passes and with it the tension. Maybe a bit of selective remembering might help.
Of course mother gives orders!
And you should listen -instead of riding around in taxis all day eating chocolates!
It's been a quiet week for me too, I've finally given the sports car back and romance has diminished accordingly.
How depressing. Seems women want magic: Harry Potter.
I'm lately surprised at how similar Percy Cerutty and Xavier Herbert looked. And both were marathon men too, both nuts.
Elisabeth, the tension isn't mine but flows towards me from someone else and he will have to deal with it. It's funny but there really seems to be a disturbance in 'The Force', quoting StarWars, when the person is around.
Robbert, I could be riding around in taxis all day drinking gin. I love a fantasy world and Harry Potter it is.
Old Percy, what a dessicated prune he was, all mouth.
7kms a day!! Wow. I can barely manage three. Plus my walk to and from work, which I don't count and probably should. Does he do it all at once or spread it out over several walks?
And you won a bingo set!
I hope the cause of your tension goes away soon.
SATURDAY SALON! (Special mention to that cowering weasal and feminists fanny rag: MARK "It's donation time again" BAHNISCH!)
Off to the Concours d'Elegance (what bullshit) & Classic Motor Show today at The Exhibition Building. I got into the city by train, and then expecting tram stops to be at intersections I waited at Bourke and Swanston Streets and the bloody thing sailed straight past me; the stop was further up Bourke Street would you believe, what a joke, fucking stupid city! That's what I said, walking in the rain up Bourke Street. I wasn't going to have a smoke all day but that buggered it, I stood there at the stop and lit one up. A busker in a wheelchair (microphone and all) was crooning "It's Raining in My Heart". Someone had tossed him ten cents.
Well darlings if this country gets any more ridiculous euthanasia will be rewarded. It's cheap enough already.
gosh I had a near-miss today with RH on the trams. good thing I was in the right place.
I was in Reader's Feast on that corner, after I got off the tram. they had the book on Cadbury's Chocolate Wars and I thought of Miz Kath Chocco.
ALDI chocolate is excellent.
Annie O, Aldi's choc is divine but for some reason it affects me badly. you and Robbert, so close and yet so far.
Robbert, trams terrify me so I haven't been on one for 15 years. It wasn't you that donated the ten cents I hope?
River, 'Tension' asked to use my computer last night and remembered I had a blog but I could hardly stand there and look over her shoulder.
He does all that walking at least twice a day and rests between. He has size 12 feet so I dont walk with him, I'd be left so far behind.
JahTeh; I got out my street directory and ruler to measure up how far I'd have to walk to do 6kms a day. From my corner, east, to "this" road or from my corner, south, to "that" road. It's a distance I used to walk easily, beore I piled on the baggage from emotional over-eating, so I'm going to give it a shot, but I'll take it slowly, just amble along until I get used to it again.
I've used my blog entirely for venting lately....
Try being cryptic - works for me!
Well he sounded like Buddy Holly but looked like Burl Ives.
Buskers are half-wits, most of them. Half-wits with accountants, mission statements. The lord mayor who eats like a pig on public money likes seeing it thrown in the streets. Vienna has buskers so we'll have them too. That's culture, he says. And beggars, that's culture too, old world charm: dirty bastards infesting Europe for centuries, we'll lay them on as well.
A woman trailed me along the Yarra bank one night (while her pimp sat and watched) saying how poor she was. I was hoping she'd follow me onto the bridge so I could throw her off. Hell, I've taken risks for money, why would I hand it out to hobos sitting on their arses?
Beggars are like advertisers, unnecessary and a fucking nuisance.
I'd boot them up the arse but it's always well protected.
Mark Bahnisch, what a genius. Sociology, what a science. How to judge a creme brulee.
I got jailed for having no money, now you're allowed to beg for it.
What an advance.
Being poor is decriminalised so more are doing it.
-Mark Bahnisch.
The Sociological Analysis of Shit Colourings. Griffith.
before I admonish RH for ranting here offtopic re Bahnisch, I would like to support him by saying that wheelchair busker was an assault and a crime. he was amplified and speeding up and down the block and is clearly receiving a $777 per fortnight disability pension from centrelink which should be enough to live on without him torturing the poor girl working the register at Priceline. she wished him dead for making her work just that much harder. I wished him dead for his vocal abominations. God crippled him for a reason: he is a selfish shit.
watch your step RH
Dine best you can.
You are what you shit.
-Mark Bahnisch.
Faeces Inspector. Brisbane.
He was parked at the kerb when I saw him, singing: "It's Raining in My Heart". On topic, considering the weather.
Admonish on your own blog.
Well maybe you're right.
I've done my job anyway, off for a rest now.
Ever since I can remember there's been cranes on the skyline. Melbourne is a city constantly being built and rebuilt. You can have a drink in a pub one day and next day it's a vacant lot.
I don't go into the city much, fourth time now in twenty years. Last Saturday I looked at Fed Square for the first time. A brick wall, pure commerce. Flinders Station has a new dunny, makes me laugh remembering the old one. And the cattle are moved up escalators. Up and down. They look nervy, sitting on the platforms. Governments like them that way. Constant change keeps them unsettled, obedient; don't let anything get too loved. Historic buildings are demolished, new races appear, and hardly a murmur.
Re-naming Spencer Street Station, and thoughts of re-naming St Kilda Road (just as absurd) continue the process, unsettle the populace. Lower middle-class dullards jumped up in affluence, are given cafes, given excitement. And all around them their heritage is destroyed.
Cities are alienating, they say so themselves. But of course they are, they rely on it. Cities are a beast, a great swallowing monster. Sucker domes, the death of affection.
River, I know what you mean. I notice the extra weight I've put back on especially carrying all mum's goods and chattels on my shoulder.
Miles, I would dearly love to vent but the 'ventee' loves to tell tales for sympathy so I'm being obnoxiously nice.
Robbert I must admit when I went to the city after years I hardly recognised anything. As for new dunnies at Flinders Street, about time. You had to be desperate to use the old ones that I remember.
Geez Stacks, I thought they were getting rid of the hack buskers, only letting the talented do it but then Robert Doyle doesn't look like he has taste. They'd have arrested you if you'd stuck your brolly in his wheel.
Anyway when did this begging caper start on our city streets?
I think we may be living in the same universe -today Sunday I tried to make sure I saw no-one but the cats - rang and cancelled visits I had been roped into...but one person I begged off still wants to come here and pick up something - I have to resist the offering of a cup if tea - or it will be longer than I need now...I too have a diary and forget to write in it
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