And a big Happy Birthday to Anne O'Dyne.
And this is her present which she won't have because I didn't win Powerball on Thursday night but nothing says Happy Birthday like a faux French chateau cottage in the country or an image of.
I'm sure I've blogged this sculpture in the past but I really like it. I like it much better than some of the public sculptures that have been mooted for Melbourne in the last few months. It is what it is, like someone has dropped a rock from the sky and this is the splash. It doesn't need the artist to explain what I am looking at or what it means in arty farty terms. It's a splash and I find it soothing.
Now I vaguely remember someone suggesting I put in a cat door for the Ice Bear. This photo shows why I wouldn't put in a cat door. Possibly the possums would have less trouble figuring it out and instead of one mouse, I would have a truckload.
And another glass sculpture which is really spectacular. I assume you can boat through the tunnel to get another perspective. I like the look and feeling of movement even though it's not going anywhere.
I'd still like the splashy one in my fish pond in my manicured garden.
Just one moment more while I stare into those eyes and drink in a dose of calm and try to remember all the things I haven't blogged lately.
Five years Mother has been in the Home.
In that time I have put on 20kgs.
Taken on 6 more tablets a day.
Been diagnosed with Diabetes.
Been annoyed constantly by Diabetes Educator because they keep changing the rules.
Agoraphobia has been upgraded from mild nuisance to outright hysteria where my head whirls in LSD colours and I hang on to fences to make it home.
I have nerve damage to both feet which makes me fall over if I wear slippers but on the other hand (foot) since there's not much feeling, cold and frostbite hasn't worried me this winter. Circulation is still good, should have seen the blood when I stood on the broken glass.
Both legs look like I stole them from a passing elephant, too much fluid.
I have no friends in real life, I have only you precious lot who wander here to leave a comment every so often.
And I am Mother's slave.
But Doc Marvin has bravely taken on my crappy health.
Pathetic, non?
Well there's more (as they say on those hideous commercials), the Home is going to be closed. Oh, they are trying to save it but at 90 seconds to shut down, saving it is not really on the cards. They should have looked into it 12 months ago. Kingston Council would love the land for high density housing so why should they care about 30 residents. Those fucking bastards of the Liberal party in Canberra who have labelled all pensioners as a drain on the country, sucking it dry of money forgetting that all pensioners worked and paid taxes, have decided as of July 1 that all nursing homes must charge a bond. They have also dropped the amount of subsidy for each resident. There are beds empty when, in the past, there was always a waiting list. So people coming through with Bonds in mind, are looking for single rooms with ensuites and ritzy furnishings instead of looking at the quality of nursing.
One of Mother's roomies has a wealthy husband who went through all those ritzy homes and chose this one because of the view to the garden and Ma's friendly face and pretty space in the opposite corner.
They say 6 weeks before they know but I think it will be much sooner than that. Are they going to help us find new places, no. Will they help the poor of us that don't have a bond, no. Will they pack up and move the residents, no. Will they make sure the new place is somewhere easy to get to by bus or train, no. Will they make sure that the residents won't leave Kingston and lose their doctor, no. Goodbye Doc Marvin.
After 5 years I thought I would have a life that didn't involve anyone but me, the cat, the possums and a passing mouse. It seems I must go through the whole process again. I have one, no, two bright lights. Doc Marvin likes the old girl and will help re-settle her if he can. And the bitch cook who has constantly tried to poison then entire Home will never get another job. That goes a long way to making up for everything else.
Now about that large rock, make it big enough for me and blues eyes up there. You may now sob in your coffee and send truckloads of sympathy.
Make that last month and this month. I can hardly type, see or move. I fell out of the taxi (SOBER) yesterday and I am hurting. I even managed to blacken my eye a bit so it's twitching like crazy. The driver is probably still in shock and since he was knee high to a grasshopper, he had no chance of hauling me up. The grass was wet with dew so I couldn't get any purchase with the feet and the kneeling on the scar tissue was really a hurt I could do without. Fortunately my neighbour came over and grabbed a patio chair, so with both holding the back of the chair steady, I managed to crawl up and sit. After I sit I can stand up and walk away, no problems until the brain starts getting "attention! Pain" from everywhere. I always ask the drivers to park away from the gutter edge so I can put my feet down flat then get out but hernextdoor's daughter was giving violin lessons so parking anywhere was a problem especially anywhere near my drive not her's. It was as I turned to get my things from the back seat that I went splat. It just added to the hurts from trying to get into a jeep in the pouring rain last Thursday. I didn't have a choice, it was that or stay with mother. The taxi website crashed and so did the phone site. I should have left sooner but since it was my birthday I thought I should stay with the old girl. Wrong, she rang on Friday terribly sorry because she didn't say Happy Birthday and she had an awful night because she couldn't remember how old I was or where I was born. And I arrived home freezing cold and soaking wet and hurting. Now hurting more and still shaking. I'll pick myself up and be back soon.
And this is her present which she won't have because I didn't win Powerball on Thursday night but nothing says Happy Birthday like a faux French chateau cottage in the country or an image of.
