Friday, January 12, 2018

12 days into the new year and where am I?

Exactly where I was last year so much so I picked up my diary and peeled back the cover to put a nice fabric and ribbon on it when I realized it was last year's diary which I never got the time to put fabric and ribbon on.  It was glancing at the first week which was so like this week and I'm easily confused these days.  So now I have two diaries to cover.  My sister says time wasting but I hate writing in a naked book and she also called me a hoarder but then a neighbour needed an item the other day and I had the very item and it probably has been in the same place for the last 5 years.  Excuse, I was just interrupted by delivery man carrying more mother work for me.  I will just love sitting down this afternoon cutting the exact size in the colostomy bags after I unpack from the individual plastic bags, take away the paper, pop off the stiff plastic protector from 30 of the bloody things and put the plastic clips on the bottom.  At least I don't have to pay for them if I don't count the taxi fare to get them to her.  And that will fix the arthritis in that hand for about 3 days. 
Doc Marvin is still looking after her and he told me to take my time fixing up the grave as she'll be here for some time.  I may have to kill him, all the crappy doctors in the system and she had to get the best one ever.   

 Did I blog the bushfire in Cheltenham?  Went through the Park, clipped the golf course and burnt two patches in the Pioneer Cemetary and in one of those patches was the family grave.  That's how the year started.  Sister went to see what damage was done, mostly watery ash, she said.  I'll go and clean the plaques in case she gets all house wifey and uses metal polish when bronze should only be cleaned with furniture polish.  There, see, I do have the theory of house cleaning, I just don't have the inclination to use it.  I forgot, after 10 or 11 years, certain members of the family have just discovered what a blog is and that I have one, so if I insult anyone, it's intentional and if you don't like it, don't read it and piss off.

And shut up any pious readers, I'm in pain and according to our beloved Government pain killers will not do me any good and I should find an alternative, I have, I swear a lot and loudly.
This heat has made the arthritis flare up and my usual swearing doesn't seem to work as well as it used to. I even had a shower at midnight last night, didn't help.  Perhaps I should haunt the wharves again and polish up my salty vocab although seeing  "spotted dick" Dutton's head is enough to bring up breakfast and antique blasphemies.  There are so many Parliamentarians who I would love to see standing on a landmine (trigger word, hello Asio) he is the one who is top of the list.  Fancy that creep gathering up all the power to, pardon while I chortle, keep us safe when a cockroach could take him down with one mandible.  I like that word, mandible, sounds so butch and cockroaches are really butch but I don't know if they have mandibles.  Oh wow, a vision of spotted dick disappearing under a herd of snapping mandibles.  I suppose it was maudling Malcolm who made him minister for killing anyone who won't eat a lamb chop on Australia Day.

Apart from still trying to clean up last year's clutter/mess/mustneverthrowout/books, I am also tossing a 6 foot tall bookcase full of mother videos not dvds but the other lumping great things.  I cry at the  money spent on them but the op shops won't touch them and after ma's shredded the tapes I couldn't say they would be in good condition.  To the right of me is a CD tower of her favourite music, discs which took me a week to put back in the right covers.  She said the other day that she'd listened to Shumann's or Shubert's (always get them mixed up, one was married to Clara and the other died of syphilus) Unfinished Symphony and loved it, never heard it before, 3 copies in that tower plus several triple up Mozart's everything he ever composed. 
Maybe I'll have a cup of tea and think of what to do or just go to sleep in the chair while a machine does my washing.


Elephant's Child said...

Going to sleep strikes me as the best option. If you can.
The New Year is hot and horrible and like you I am exercising my language skills. And cursing those who don't need painkillers who have made them harder to get.

Jayne said...

The heat is vile, the humidity is even more vile and one royally wishes one would find Dutton mashed into a potato puddle of puerile piss.

River said...

"according to our beloved Government pain killers will not do me any good and I should find an alternative," I had a good laugh when I heard that on TV last year, they're claiming codeine is useless as a pain reliever so people should use just panadol or ibuprofen.
Panadol is useless and not everyone can take ibuprofen, which in my opinion is also useless as it delivers to me a crashing headache when it leaves my system.
The codeine additives in the Panadeine forte and Prodeinextra are what does the job, especially for migraines, but it can be addictive and codeine is converted to morphine by the liver.
Morphine is what the hospital drips into you as a painkiller, so of course the governments are lying about codeine being useless.
The restrictions are to stop all those idiots who buy huge amounts and make drugs from it. Of course you knew all this already, but I'm annoyed that from next month I'll have to get a prescription for something I may need only a few times a year. And I'll probably have to show ID at the chemist and I currently don't have any since I lost the bus pass folder AGAIN! last year and can't get a new photo ID without the necessary documents that I also don't have.
You'll need a nap after reading all this.

Anonymous said...

Take one too many measure of Bombay Sapphire and you will adjust to the world as it is. It won't make much difference the next morning, but you will feel more adjusted to how life now is, and say, Fuck 'em all, The Long and the Short and the Tall.

Beth Waltz said...

New Year's greetings, dear JayTeh, from the frozen American Midwest. A series of detours -- can't remember if the initial search was tiaras, plate tectonics or senior care -- led me to your blog, and having read it from 2005 onwards, it seems appropriate to claim you as an online friend due the courtesies of the season.

I don't blog, still working full-time into my senior years, but I do comment, especially when enchanted by arachnids, possums, lorikeets and white cats almost as dumb as my own. And crystals, I do love crystals as sharp as your wit (would that you had our Orange One in the White House in your sights).

And shoes! You remind me of a lady of a certain age and size who is locally famous for her amazing shoes and boots. She uses a wheelchair and responds to compliments with: "Fun, aren't they? No one can walk in them, so why should I try?"

JahTeh said...

Welcome Beth, you read from 2005, it's a wonder you've still got a mind. I have been watching your weather, what a horror winter it has been and I loved one fountain that was still valiantly spouting water at the top of a 13 foot frozen tower. As for President Dumbkins, words fail even me. As for the few years he'll be in office, they'll go down in history as the golden age of cartoons and my favourite is one where the artist put hair on a jumbo jet and called it Hair Force One. I can only think that the day that man was elected that God was bored out of his mind smoking weed and drinking moonshine.

Andrew, dear boy, I wouldn't dare take away your theme song. I'm saving the gin until the limes are ripe, lemons don't do it for Bombay, they're only for cheap booze or to take the tinny taste of Double black vodka.

River, I refuse to go to the Chemist Warehouse who ask for ID for everything I have to take. I mean that place has security at the door and had the cheek to want to check my bag as I left, obviously has never read Harry Potter and knows nothing about undetectable extension charms. I have things in the bottom of that bag that haven't seen the light of day since Federation.

Jayne, 'puddle of puerile piss', still studying to be a professor of English language I see. I'd love an Australia Day barbie at Parliament House ON THE FORBIDDEN GRASS and have him draw the short straw for the pig on the spit. Now we'll both be arrested by ASIO.

El Chi, I look at Canberra's temp. and really feel for you. And I hoped you saw that news item where they were blowing the frozen bubbles and it was so cold you could see the frost growing in them. It seems the ground and the air has to be freezing to get a good frost bubble. And Parliament starts again and another burst of hot air will sweep over you.