Nearly made it, missed it by thaaat much.

Dear Andrew says his hangover is much better.

Next year I'm making this awesome reindeer for my pleasure and to terrify the cat.

Only StarWars  fans will get the joke.  And no, I haven't been to see the next instalment yet.

And I thought I'd give you a break from Harry.

Mother had a turn in the shower and was rushed back to bed and put on oxygen.  Now she's back on antibiotics.  She was okay Christmas Day but tired.  Her roomie died through the night, just went to sleep and bye bye.  Boxing Day, tired, so mother stayed in bed.  I was in the middle of dressing an angel doll, just getting into the sewing  of petticoats and lace which had to be done on the doll otherwise the porcelain arms can break when I got the call.  You know, oh don't come down, I'll be okay but she isn't until I walk in the room.  Bloody woman.  Doc Marvin was in today and can't believe how fast her lungs collapsed into infection because they were clear last week.

  

I have a few people to blame.  Don't come into a nursing home and slobber over the  residents, their immune system is shit and your germs aren't.  My sister and I don't kiss our mother, well if I kissed her she would think she was dying.  I've been saying this for 7 years, don't kiss them, you've had years to kiss them and if you haven't kissed them enough in that time then you aren't going to make up for it now. 

So now I'm back with Angel doll and it is not working.  Angel wings are different from fairy wings, fairy wings I can do, stupid angels, no.  To top it off, it's one of those CopperArt dolls from China where the dress is made for a standing up body but then they go and twist the body to make it look different from the other 4 million Angels they made that week.  I went into the sewing room and packed fabric in boxes and let the empty brain space do its work and I've got it and remembered how to stiffen the wings, hairspray.  I even found the white feathers I'd been looking for.  Hand beading is now going to be sticking on with glue beading.  I've cleaned up the beads and can't find a crystal or a pearl anywhere.  I'll go feed the cat and think on it.  Bloody woman couldn't wait until I'd finished to have another episode.

I may need an intervention

I'm like Pavlov's dog except it's Potter's dog.  Every time Potter ranges into view, I'm compelled to press go and read the latest.  So in case you need a sob or two today in the Christmas madness, I give you these.

 I love taking those online quizzes and I invariably come up as Luna and place of residence is Hogwarts.

I can't argue with a Patronus, at least it wasn't a box of chocolates. 

Now you have to have a tiny tear by this stage and last night when I found this, big tears.  I always get very snivelly around Christmas.  I think it's having to bypass the booze, chocolates, puddings, cakes and Pavlovas.  I really miss the pavs and it's no good saying just a small slice, that has never been in my vocabulary.  Dear lord, what on earth constitutes a small slice unless that's the bit I leave for others to fight over.  I'd love to see Luna wielding her wand over a Pavlova, pink with a Unicorn holding a strawberry in a field of marshmallow and cream.  I must get my fingers off the keyboard and my mind off Potter.

Yes, if my hand is full of wand and the other hand is full of food, I'm very calm.

Penguins for Elephants

I went looking for a really good penguin photo for Elephant's child for her competition win and I was lost for hours.  Penguins everywhere and cute and I can't resist cute so you're getting cute penguin blog and liking it.

 How can you not keep calm watching penguins excepts with Attenborough who likes to draw your attention to every predator in the Southern Ocean chewing and chomping down on baby penguins. Not calming David!

 This is for calming sleep.  EC you will be dreaming of Antarctica and ice bergs and little swimmy friends all night.

And dreaming of all that water will bring about the usual consequences but I've got that covered as well.  That toilet roll holder is just the most and the only thing to make it better is a fishy voice screeching, "fill it up" when the roll runs out.

Just had to ask this question, do they have knees?  I mean they're a bit short on for legs so maybe knees aren't there but we should know this. We should know if penguins have knees.  And because this is keeping you up you should have a calming cup of something, gin, vodka, anything.

And while you are pondering the wisdom of penguins having knees, your cat is nicking your chocolate chip cookie and so it goes on, do cats have knees?

I'm not a big lover of fan fiction.

I don't go looking for Hogwarts History or what happened after Volde turned to ashes and it's just a coincidence that the ticket for the express is one of my favourite wallpapers.  I mean there are times when I really want to be on that train and a long way from here but it's a dream that isn't going to come true.

But when I came across this about Kreacher and Dobby, I admit to a sob or two escaping maybe even four or five.  It's just the time of year when I get whacked out and tend to cry over the most ridiculous things.  Doesn't everyone sob when they drag the damn yellow recycle bin out and then find it's only Tuesday.  

I'm going to remember this and have it put in my will that when my nephew goes, socks will be put on his grave in memory of his philosophy that two holey socks when worn one over the other make a whole sock.  Dobby would agree.

I've been at the Home so nothing for it but to cat blog

 I want it but I want two spoons, one spoon always gets broken.

 I've just spoken to my sister, I'm with you Bill.

 Cute but no saucer, no spoon!  One must keep up standards of tea drinking.

Be okay for the Bombay Sapphire though.

 I really stand out in the crowd, give me a bad day and I'll stand on the crowd,

 Brilliant thinking outside the square but they would still find the one bauble under the couch and play with that at midnight.

I'm still thinking of using the cat as a Christmas decoration but I haven't quite got the plum colour right. I'm not cruel, I'm using solar lights since he spends most of the time flat out in the sun so he might as well recharge himself.

I will call him silver balls.

What goes on the Web, stays on the Web

I try very hard to be anonymous on the Web. Wouldn't want my ex or his crappy wife to come calling and spoiling the ambience.

No photos except one taken 50 years ago. But always there's one pest that looks and finds out about my secret life as an artist's model with all that entails.

Thanks Jayne I'm sure I'll be able to find a way to repay the favour.

I miss the Bohemian life, Absinthe, mad artists, passionate sex (I wish I could remember sex) and wild dancing on re-enforced table tops.  That damn water was cold though and I'm sure pretty lights weren't the only things floating in it.  Chopped my hair short but still  have the Big A.  I wonder if it still glitters in the light of the full moon when I dance to the call of the Goddess.

Jingle balls, bells, whatever

This is how Christmas should be, it isn't.  It's more like this.

And the kids aren't even out of school yet.  Do drivers put on a special ningnong hat for rolling the streets in December?  I'm counting busdrivers in this as well because I caught a bus yesterday and I swear he was sniggering as I tried to drop the loaded walker to the footpath when it looked like he wasn't going to lower the step.  He waited until the last possible moment to drop it and me and walker.
As if it wasn't bad enough that I was on my way to the Home and the crackers.  Someone has a rash and I wasn't the first to think 'little livestock a'wandering' or maybe a gift of herpes.  Someone  had to have their long pants cut off, too tight, too shrunk, too someone else's.  Mother and I had a relatively peaceful afternoon as there was an entertainment going on.  She was going on about her lovely rainbow lights all over the house and how it lit up the street so I bought her two little trees, one plastic and one glass with tiny baubles on the branches and they light up and change colour.  If they keep going until christmas Day, her brain should be nicely rooffied.  I wrapped up Doc Marvin's present from mother and since he's like me and likes to start reading a book the minute it's open, I predict a threat of divorce on Christmas morning.

I'd just seen him for blood test results, not as bad as they could have been. In an ideal world BGL 5 or 6 would have been perfect but as he said in my world of chaos, he'll accept 7.1. I was overjoyed as my monitor kept throwing up averages like 8.6.  Blood pressure was a little high but I had been on the phone with the sister who wanted to know if pensioners got a Christmas bonus.  We're fkn lucky to get a pension with this mob in Canberra.
One more stupid question like that and I will kick her in her knee replacement.

Southland wasn't too bad as I started at the top and worked my way down.  Don't bother with Black Opium, too fruity sweet and I did have a great spray while the assistant was helping another lady.  I'll stick with the old Opium.  And not too many gift sets from Estee Lauder this year which throws a spanner in the cheap works as they usually drop the prices after Christmas.  So to Aldi's to buy a fold up table, second attempt.  This one was only 6 feet long and folded in two, perfect if I had been Arnold Schwartznegger (did I miss an e).  I couldn't move the box, could not even slide it onto the trolley.  The girl asked if I wanted a man for assistance, well, yes, but only if he came home in the taxi with me and carried it into the house.  I bought a box of macadamia shortbread instead.  Nice tin, Doc Marvin likes tins so I'll give it to him from me, minus the shortbread.

I hate the heat already.

And I found out the drama queen white cat has never seen a balloon before. World record leap for his twitchiness, world record squeeze under the coffee table, followed by a record run for the back door.
He crawled in two hours later and gave new meaning to the word 'pussy foot'. I swear it took him 15 minutes to make it across the lounge to hide behind the couch.  I couldn't get a nice well adjusted moggie, I had to get a whacko with raw nerves.  I wonder what he'd do if I blew one up and then just let it go, better not, the room's in enough mess as it is.

Are we going to get Sydney's storm?  Any chance, even a small one preferably before the weekend?

My version of Sunday Selections

I want a conservatory at the front of the house but I really really want an attic NOW.  Is this the most fantastic attic conversion ever?  Of course I would have some trouble getting up the stairs but what are Stairmasters for.  On the other hand I could just steeple the roof over the sewing room to match the conservatory and then I wouldn't need stairs.  I wouldn't worry about the shoe racks not with my crummy collection of decrepit foot ware but it would just mean shelves for my frock fabric that I haven't cut out yet and my mohair rugs and doona covers.  I'm one short at the moment, I haven't had it long, bought it because the price was right and it had flowers and nothing else did but gah, it's so depressing to sleep under.  I spent an hour during another watching of Lord of the Rings to unpick the lot much to the disgust of the cat who hates Orcs and likes to sit on my knee if Orcs are around.  I might not be able to sleep under it but it will make a nice house dress which won't show the dropped chocolate bits off the Magnums.  The bottom half, kind of Khaki, that's depressing but it will end up as the back of a quilt some time this Millenium.

Now shoes are beginning to become a problem with the arthritic feet and scrunching bones and most of the fluid building on top of my feet.  I grabbed a cheap pair of sneakers at KMart which felt soft enough but the Chinese version of size 11 is 10 so I really needed a 12 and I should have gone over to the mens shoes, better for the width.  Even with two shoe horns I nearly broke both feet trying to get them on.  What did I expect for $8, well not much so I had a think as Pooh did when he got his head caught in the hunny jar and came up with something brilliant.  I cut the tongue and half the front out of the sneaker, nicely rounded off just before the beginning of the toes and the end of the fat fluid part of the busted foot.  Then I put the laces back through the holes, nice laces, black with little white spots, cute. They went on like a dream, laced up with too much skin showing, a bit like putting a corset on and trying to get a waist out of a Blue Whale.  But I walked to the shop for coffee and comfortable and didn't fall off but plain.  I am planning on sticking little flat pearls around the cut edges to look more elegant, less cheap but still like the fat hippo ballerinas from Fantasia.  I'll just have to try harder from the waist up.

And with all this dreaming of divine attics and space for frocks and stuff, I haven't started Christmas thinking or cards and I've already eaten Christmas Day's mince pies.  Haven't started the Christmas brooch tree, third year running so another Millenium project but at least I'll have room for it in the Attic.  Do you think I could get away with decorating a large white cat in a Christmas fashion? 

Christmas, how do I not love thee, let me count the ways.

Mother is still here, sister is still whinging, the cat stops me running away from home and I need a full moon in the sign of money.  I don't have any presents to buy this year and I look like getting a good meal on the day even if it means I have to go to the Home.

Our resident loopydemented who it seems actually has to really hurt someone like in maybe kill is no longer waiting on the full moon to go crackers.  I have been informed that I should have more sympathy for this resident as she does not know what she is doing.  Crapola she does and she should not be in a place where she can't be under observation 24 hours.  The staff does their best but while they are controlling her, they have to leave other residents.  And what can a carer do when she is sitting beside her watching a resident have nail polish put on and the carer looks up and sees loopy drinking the nail polish.  Doc Marvin has already had words with the DON but it's up to the family for the last word. There are places, quite secure where she can walk around inside and out and that is where she should be.   Mother's roomie has very bad legs which have to be dressed and it's so painful that she cries the whole time so she didn't need loopy to come in and go to grab both legs through the blankets.  When her husband told her to go, loopy punched him full in the chest, a ninety year old man.  She punches the carers, knocked the older ladies to the ground and steals whatever takes her eye. Then last week there was the complete striptease in the day room and that's a sight I'm glad I'll never have in my memory bank.  

I will be having Christmas lunch in mum's room.  My Christmas baubles are all neatly put away. I take them out, have a look at the gorgeous things and put them back.  I will just do the usual thing and spray the dust hanging from the ceiling with gold paint with a new ornament this year, a dead spider hanging from the light. I haven't removed him, the body reminds me of that gorgeous image of the chandelier hanging from the wreck of the Titanic, gently swaying in the current.  Ornaments were pretty crappy this year and expensive. I looked everywhere for a matte plum colour in a round ball, nada.   And the cat is not co-operating.  I had thoughts of sending you all a Christmas card, a very exclusive card of a lovely white cat wearing a red velvet Santa hat.  I even cut little holes in it for his ears to poke through.  The hat he tolerated, the camera not a bit. The only way I'll get his head to stay still is to nail his ears to the wall. The other problem is getting him in a position where you can't see last year's litter all over the lounge.

I am getting a present for me.  I'm going up to DJ's and demanding they spray me with YSL's Opium Black.  None of those stupid little flicks of paper, I want the real stuff on me and if I do it the day before Christmas it should last 24 hours if I hold my arm out of the shower. I must be getting old, there was a time I wouldn't have thought 2 seconds before I shelled out $180 for this gift set. I might waver in these last weeks after all I did find a block of Lindt behind the Bombay Sapphire when I really needed chocolate this week.  I always hide the chocolate behind the gin because I don't drink gin in winter, in summer I hide it behind the port. Who says women can't handle logic.