Sorry blog friends but it looks like I may be unblogging for a bit longer.
Not well which I hate saying since I know how many of my blog mates aren't in the greatest health.
I'll be back soon and I do read your posts, I just can't comment.
Sorry for the emails I haven't answered but I have starred them and will get there.
Christmas in July presents still unwrapped but gathered in little piles all ready.
Mother alive and sister still moving to Queensland. The Ice Bear is getting fatter and I feel terrible about cutting off the tail of a tiny skink with the rubbish bin.
I am so sorry you aren't well.
DO NOT WORRY ABOUT CHRISTMAS OR COMMENTING ON BLOGS.
Focus on you. Please.
Echoing EC, and please, just focus on you. I haven't sent any emails, been rather busy myself running around to assorted doctors. I wish we lived closer, EC and me, we could help or at least visit.
Be better soonest, please xxxx
And the skink will get over it, I promise xxx
I concur with all what River, Jane and El Chi said above [hello ladies].
try to relax, keep warm, enjoy the snowbear cat.
The streets are barricaded for the Duchess baby crowd, maybe somewhere in NSW there is a barricade for Barnaby Joyce's Oops baby. The New Idea won't know which way to jump.
The Baaa-narby Bubs will be hampered from birth with that Bonking Beetroot for a Pater.
Paternity is often a guess and I believe that's the case with tomato head. But who cares, really, although in her case I'm thinking: half your luck mate. Girlpower can bring you down alright, look what happened to Piggy Doyle, Lord Mayor, just one hand on a knee from too much plonk and suddenly he's a hobo.
Well I can laugh: two houses and loads in the bank while that old bastard of a magistrate who jailed me at seventeen for being poor has been dead for years. Rot you mongrel. And I'll tell you something -all of you, the attitude/philosophy that would jail people for being poor still lives in the hearts of people like Malcolm Turnbull. They believe in it.
Why I'm here now is to thank big woman Copperwitch for years of fun and entertainment on her marvellous blog, and to say that if the world was run by her it would be a perfect place to live. And thanks to Miss ODyne, Baby Jayne and others. Thanks for being so funny. This blog became part of my life and whether I comment or not I'll continue to look in on it. Thank you so very much, all of you.
Thank you all but why weren't you lot here this morning when I caught my small toe in a loop of couch grass and went down like the Titanic. Fortunately I landed on my large verandah on the grass and missed the concrete. I just waited for the Postie to come down the other side of the street and yelled for help. He was a big man but no-one can get me up without a double hernia. I sent him next door for the neighbour who went and bought out my phones except one was the tv remote. Ambos arrived before the rain did and I taught them how to upside a fat lady. I may have dislocated one toe and several other joints are hurting. I freaked at what looked like a pile of blood but bird crap from them eating the red berries at the gate. I was on my way to the shower and I'm still on the way to the shower and it's all my fault for not taking the walker. Not my fault, ex husband for being too cheap to concrete the entire drive way and left bloody grass for me to fall over.
Robbert, totally agree with you, no middle class now just poor and disgustingly rich. And one more photo of Tony Abbott in lycra and I might just have to shoot the tv.
Thank you, dear JahTeh, for floating a note to let us know you're still on the beach. Chronic pain is truly a chain and ball that grows heavier as the tides roll and the planet spins. Your concern for your mum does you credit -- but your sister's absence from the scene? Time, indeed, to focus on self-care!
Is there any chance you might engage a temporary home-helper? Someone to stop in once a week to deliver groceries, pick up mail, change the cat's box, etc.? Or even a health-care assistant to steady your way to the shower? I'm some years your senior and still working full-time; however, my joints have blessed the day I hired a lawn-care team to mow and trim!
And please don't worry about the skink. His tail will grow back. Read up on it, fascinating stuff!
Beth, would you believe that an hour later my lawn mower man arrived and tidied up the offending couch grass. And the dear Postie delivered my mail right to the door yesterday. I shop online for groceries, lovely idea. The cat box, sheer genius, I keep the zip bags that hold his kibble and empty the litter into a strong bag that zips up and the whole thing goes in the bin. And I am the only one that will ever see me nekkid in the shower. There isn't room for a chair in the shower but I am thinking of buying a shower stool just so I can wash my feet, standing on one foot while scrubbing the other is not to be undertaken lightly. Best foot bath ever is a kitty litter tray, worst thing is stopping the cat from playing with the bubbles.
All this talk of showers means I should have one now while the sun is shinning.
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