February is the new "New Year"

It's taken all of January to kick in and I'm still not right.  Mother is back to normal, manipulating anyone she can con.  Not me, I do what's necessary and no more.  My sister is consistant, a half hour visit and she leaves at speed. She's enjoying retirement, meditation classes, painting classes and lunching. Apparently I don't retire until mother does. I can barely look at her or speak on days I go down before I'm ready.  I just can't get past that week of dying when she decided not to, right on the top step of that Highway to Heaven.  She's now planning her 85th birthday, 6th of March, I'm planning on opening a vein.

Since I decided I wouldn't go there if I didn't want to, I've been throwing out piles of papers going back to 2006, science marches on. I've found things I thought I'd lost, writings I really wanted to keep and my new will which I could have sworn was put away with my other important papers.  I've ripped up love letters, where did I find such boring blokes but every now and then I still find traces of the ex. That's really exciting, do I rip it up or burn it?  I've just found another load of papers in the study and then there are the bank statements and 2013 accounts to be done to death. 150 craft magazines are now just a few pages in three folders, craft, jewellery and Christmas. Articles from New Scientist also whittled down to really interesting blog fodder in another small folder.  Christmas cards and rubbish brought from the Home when I thought she was going added to the recycle bin. I deny everything when she says "do you know what happened......"  The recycle bin has been so heavy some weeks that I've nearly overturned me taking it out.  The red bin hasn't been much better. I'm sure it's totally illegal to shove a toaster oven in it but I did.

I'm typing here in the company of my treadmill which is being used every day.  I'm up to 7 minutes twice a day, a little over 200 metres and burning off 20 calories in the process.  I'm not so much interested in losing weight as building up the muscles in my legs to offset the nerve damage in my feet where my balance is losing the battle.
The coffee table arrived from my sister and it is big big big.  I haven't decided where to move it, not until I finish vac'ing the rest of the carpet.  It's amusing the Bear to sit underneath it and look up through the glass.  It has one drawback, it smells of cigarette smoke, it's in the wood so I'm looking for orange oil furniture polish to see if that might fix it.
The chair is half a success.  The cushion is not working out, too hard, says Redylocks.  So we've decided to go for a half feather, half foam softer one.  There's no doubt ye olde fat bum would have crushed it down in time but it was putting pressure on my spine.  On the other hand, it is so nice to just stand up and walk away instead of these new lounge chairs that need a built in crane.  The Bear likes it.

And and and I've finished the ironing begun 6 months ago.  Right down to the sheets from mother's house that was sold 5 years ago.  Lovely thick Egyptian cotton which will be made into pillow cases in the near future.  It's the type of cotton that wears into softness the longer you use it.  I also got away with the Actil (made in Australia!)single sheet set, very pretty and she didn't use it because it was cold, good, no memories.  It will make a lovely night dress and frilled pillow cases. My sister didn't miss out, she grabbed all the pillow cases and the duck down doona at the same time.

Now I have a choice for the rest of the afternoon, finish off a present for mother to give next week and must be finished by tomorrow or, courtesy of Miss O'Dyne, finish reading the marvellous book about Georges the elegant department store which was trashed by Sydney's David Jones after they bought it.  Well, Sydney, what could you expect!  I'll just take another pill and make a decision.