On my want list

 Dale Chiluly is a remarkable glass artist and lucky Elephant's Child saw some of his work at the Australian National Gallery.  This is a pool and his glass shapes are encased on the bottom with one of his marvellous chandeliers lighting up the water from above.  It would have cost me US$1.7 million in 2010 so it's going to be on the want list for quite some time. 

But this is just my all time want want want pool.  When I get old I can even just run the wheel chair straight in.  No steps, just a quick stroll to the deep end and swim.  I don't care what the cost, this is the pool I want in my backyard, after I buy out the neighbours.

In the eye of the beholder

Lisa Fonssagrives (1911-92) was one of the most photographed models of the 1950s.  Born in Sweden and trained as a ballet dancer, she had every fashion photographer singing her praises and even married one, Irving Penn.  She was featured on the cover of Time magazine but in the article she was quoted as saying, "It is always the dress, it is never the girl, I'm just a good clothes hanger."
As for the figure, she maintained it by eating little and often, up to ten meals a day.  But a meal to her might mean 6 grapes, a single slice of cheese, one cracker and half a glass of wine. Always eating, but never anything much, was her motto.
In the last photo she does look very slim but it's hard to tell what's really underneath the big gowns or pencil skirts since the underpinnings were stiff bras and tight girdles.
Did she really look like this?

Cassie Van den Dungen copped a blast at Fashion Week when wearing this outfit.  She was miffed and said if she called someone fat and why don't you lose weight and they were upset, why was it so different to her being called thin and put on some weight.  Well, thin is not a word I'd use here and fat as I am, I'm not jealous of this figure.  Cassie even instagrammed (?) the food on her plate which might have been more believable if she'd put herself on YouTube actually eating the food.
My point is that Lisa might have been a great clothes hanger but Cassie is a coat hook.

A flash outfit for a DeLuxe Star

Now I can just see this outfit on Fenstar along with the matching Converse sneakers. I know where to buy a swell dress to go with this divine corset.  
 
 

And I found the perfect motto  for us.

Never forget, we deserve the best.

I'm getting too old to dream

If I have one fetish about shoes, it's bows. Bows on the back, the sides, the front or tied around the ankles.  I've just been looking at 1970s shoes, no bows just horrible clunks and I lived through that era so I went looking for something to soothe the blistered eyes.  Herewith....

These just made my eyes water.  They must be kidding, no-one could possibly walk with these on.  I mean there's nothing to keep the feet in the shoes for a start except maybe glue.  As for walking, how about little tiny wheels or ball bearings hidden in the heel and the sole and one just glides along.
 
 

 This was better, it has a bow and it's Valentino and I love the colour and I have absolutely no idea how you get the things on the feet and up the legs.  There might be a zip on the inside but I can't see dear Valentino wrecking the look of his fancy boot with a zip.  It must be very soft leather and just a pull up does the trick.  Unfortunately with my funny fat legs, I'd have to use a bullock hide for each leg so there goes another fashion dream.

Well, ladies, it all comes down to this. Peacock painted Converse sneakers, they look divine, we couldn't possibly fall off them and since they come in man size, they'll fit.  I could always stick a little sparkly peacock jewell or three on the canvas and you know where the bow part comes in.  I wonder if they make gold laces?

For the birds

At last I remembered to put the camera in my bag when I left this morning.  I didn't even notice 10 or 12 of these when I opened the front gate until one squarked. They didn't fly away, far too busy chewing through the berries of the Cotoneaster tree. I think it's a Corella but you know I can't tell one bird from another unless it's Magpie.  And did the Bear wander out to look when I opened the front door, not him. Sound asleep on the chair so I turfed him out before it gets too dark and when the mob took off so did he.  He prefers his birds smaller and in packs of one.  I finally got some great photos though.
UPDATE
When I arrived home last night, some busybody had tied plastic bags in the tree on my property to keep the birds away. So the ground and footpath was a mess but it was my mess and I was looking forward to another sit in my chair outside to de-stress. I don't know who but I have suspicions.

Pause and check.

Pretty isn't it. I loved it as soon as I saw it. I could see it on my new dress and I already have the earrings to match. Of course I have earrings, overflowing with earrings, very glad I don't have to answer to anyone about my earring stash.  Still if I have to wear granny boots then I must compensate at the other end.  Now, the brooch, inexpensive and pretty as I said but next time before I push the buy button, I really must check to see if the measurements are in inches or centimetres.  I thought 6cm was a nice length but it turns out that 6 inches measures 8.5 cm and the length is 15 cm and that 6 inches was the diameter of the round part.  Man, that is big and it's not like I don't have the superstructure to support it buuutt, big.  Length is not a problem, I'll remove the drop and hang it from a gold bow or put it on a chain.  The big round bit could become the centrepiece of a rose satin cushion and I might just break out the antique expensive lace. Whatever, it will be a nice surprise when it arrives.  Serves me right for messing about when I was tired.

I also have a new car in the drive.  Damn that kid is good with fixing cars. The Audi with the smashed in boot is now a gem, only waiting for its onboard computer to be fixed and it's his, sun roof and all. Now for himnextdoor to stickybeak through the gate and come asking questions, it won't be long, the suspense will be killing him. 

April, 7th day

I've sliced the top off my finger and I'll tell you, my blood flows freely and a lot of it went.  Murphy's Law, you always cut something with a new knife, usually a body part instead of a vegetable.

Mother lives another week. Lord knows what's going through her veins but a street corner dealer would retire a millionaire if he could sell it.  Something has changed in her though, realization that all good things do end and so she has had me buying Christmas presents in case she is not here to hand them out.  Good thing Bevilles was having a going out of business sale and I saved a lot of money and nearly killed myself.  Going down an escalator at any time is a hazard but carrying heavy parcels is deadly. I almost fell thanks to gravity and I didn't really want to fall on the nice lady I let go in front of me but it was close.  Of course there mustn't be any giving of gifts down at the Home, no favouritism, hell to that. Two ladies that have been looking after her very well for the last 4 years deserve more than a thank you from me and the old girl loves giving presents.  She's not being taken advantage of and it's not like I don't know what's happening but discretion is best.

Another little goodie for the garden. So cute and easy and wouldn't they be great painted with the luminous paint and stuck around the plants.  All I need are wire coathangers and the BOH with his strong hands to do the roundy bits and solder the antenae on.  Even better to have a line of them going up a brick wall.

From snails to serious.  I believe my granddaughters are coming down for a big family reunion at Easter.  I haven't been told as usual but it doesn't worry me, their family is huge and by the time they catch up with everyone, I'm happy to get a phone call.  I'm changing my will again.  One thing I do know is that my ex daughter-in-law is mixed up with a dubious Church, cult type not Catholic but something called the Christian Church of the do gooders but definitely not mainstream. My main aim in life has always been to outlive the Bitch Queen of the Universe and it was looking good there for a while as she was over in Africa building houses for poor people but she's back.  Wouldn't you have thought there'd be one hungry lion or angry hippo looking for a snack.  So changing the will has been on my mind since youngest granddaughter is still living at home under the influence of QB who has sent her off twice to missionary around Fiji.  So in order to thwart the Mistress of Greed, I've decided to leave the house to my sister to live in for her lifetime if anything happens to me before anything happens to her (sister).  The girls can have any money, my jewells and any or all of my collected crap in the house but they can't get their hands on the big money which is in the land and the house which leaves their mother up a creek without a paddle in a barbed wire canoe.  That decision left everyone in our little family group very happy not as happy as a well fed lion would have made us but life isn't meant to be easy.

 

April, lst day.

This is what you get when you need cake, tea and sympathy and can't be bothered waiting for the kettle to boil. I could really kill a cake right now but I'll make do with the Gin.
CT scanner is whizbang but I must remember to not take off my glasses until I'm on the bed. All white room and fuzzy eyesight makes me dizzy to the max.
Catch a cab to mother.  Mother looks terrible, eyes glazed which is good.  Sister says look out for glistening bright eyes, last gasp apparently.  Anyway we nearly lost her again last night which makes 3 times in the last 5 weeks.  Bitches on night duty did not answer her bell when she woke up and couldn't breath. She kept ringing, they kept ignoring. Then she had the bright idea to ring me so I could come and sit with her while she died.  "Shit, Ma you know I can't ride the broom at night"  If she had rang and after I had recovered from the heart attack, I would have rung the nurses' station at the Home and everybody would have been awake.  I can scream very loudly over a phone.  Fortunately the early morning nurse came in and she is of the old school and did she take charge. Ventilator, cold towells, ice and then oxygen and mother's colour came down from violent Puce to pale violet.  Doc Marvin was rung at 7.45 and he came in about l p.m. to check her out, not that he needed a stethoscope to listen to the rasping breath.  He's ordered more antibiotics but he knows, I know and my sister knows, it's palliative and it's slow.
Doc Marvin had words.  I bet he has more tomorrow.  He'll have my results from the CT scan but anything showing will have to be put on hold for the moment and I'm going to have to sleep with the mobile by the bed and broom at the ready.

Taking my mind off things.

 

Now there's no chance that I could ever have fish except plastic ones. I'm the one who can kill cactus, remember, but I could sit all day and watch them scoot through this fantastic Grand Prix of a fish tank.  Up, down and around, how great would that be instead of just going from side to side.  I find watching fish very soothing, almost to the point of going comatose but this would be just the opposite. 

And for all the cat lovers, a bun bed to keep the beasts warm.  Do the clicky thing to get the full delight of these ningnongs playing hamburgers.

And just for River, I found a Purple double Dature flower.

Now I have no idea what this bird is called except fashionable enough to wander the Flemington paddock on any race day.   The whole outfit could go straight on to some beanpole model and be a winner.  If it didn't have that bug in its mouth the expression would be sheer "Le Louvre".

I'm just passing time until tomorrow when I have to have a CT scan on whatever is growing in my sinus cavity and depending on how big it is, followed by an appointment with a specialist followed by surgery or non-surgery.   Non-surgery in my book.  After the scan I have to get my eyes tested just to make sure the dizziness is not related to them although I think my glasses are the cause of the non-focus. They haven't been the same since I sat on them and the arms ended up pointing in different directions.

I have an opinion and too bad if you don't like it !!!!

Isn't he cute. Michael Kutsche's concept of a squirrel for the Disney movie of The Great Oz.

Now that the sweetness is over, down to business.

Rabid Abbott is bringing back Knighthoods and Dames for exceptional Australians.  Dear Goddess I almost lost lunch and last week's breakfast.  All I could see in front of me was Sir John Howard and Dame Outback Mining Queen.
But now I can say what I like about the big earred creep because George Brandies (not a typo) says I can.  I am allowed to be a bigot, swear at people and call them names.  It's free speech.  Good one George, take a knighthood for farnarkling.  As for big ears, I unavoidably was listening to him last night and so help me, I could have sworn I was listening to J. H. Smallperson.  I can say that, free speech, remember.

The search for the plane is off because of the weather.  Lots of weird going around about that plane.  It takes an Orion 4 hours flying to the search area, two hours of search then 4 hours flying back.  So whoever directed the pilot into the Southern Indian Ocean was not intending to return.  Why aren't they using drones to skim the waves? Oh sorry, drones are only for hunting and killing.

And Craig Thompson, friend and champagne deliverer to call girls everywhere is miffed that the legal system might actually work and dump him in jail.  Don't worry Craig, hopefully the member for Frankston will soon be joining you. Of course you might get a knighthood for your tireless efforts to get those working girls off the street and into your bed. 

Don't ask about mother.

She's chipper, the old girl.

22nd of March, just past an Equinox, heading for Easter and she's still with us.  My eyeballs are typing this as I am tired and they keep falling out if I don't keep my eyelids shut.  This always happens, she gets crook, I run around in circles and she gets better, I have a meltdown.  I was supposed to go today but I had several accidents before I managed breakfast so I thought it might be better if I didn't go anywhere near traffic, the house is dangerous enough.
Her BGL is still all over the place even with slow release insulin but the cellulitis is back in the calf where it lives just waiting for the next break out.
The new lot in charge are finally looking to me for information about the old girl, it's gotten through their thick heads that just because I don't have a certificate on a wall doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about.  If I can talk for 15 minutes to Professor Thompson and his group of students at the Alfred without being considered an idiot then I should be able to discuss with them at the Home, mum and all her history.
And I'm certain they have the room bugged.  My ragings about the food seem to have hit home. The "Cook" is still serving up stew but this week it was chicken not beef although mum says it was a kindness to have put the geriatric chook out of its misery.  She's missing cake but I've made sure that everything coming in is sugar free and I still refuse to sign the food register.  If she gets sick they can blame the Swill shoveller in the kitchen except for Sunday and Monday when the Chef is on and he cooks real food. The outside bins are never full when R cooks.
I have managed to cut out five winter dresses and two autumn dresses.  It was fine while I was cutting out but I didn't realise how far I was stretching across the bed to do it.  When I tried to get out of bed the next morning, every muscle in my back and legs told me to piss off and went back to bed, leaving me standing without support.  It took an hour under hot water in the shower for the pain to ease off and I would have stayed longer but I could feel the water cooling.
I can't remember how long it is since I had a new dress to wear.  Now for a couple of winter nighties and a new dressing gown. I have a thick fleecy fabric in off white and I don't think I want to wear that in the street as a dress. I can almost hear Captain Ahab creeping up behind me with a harpoon.
And cross fingers, I think the dvd viewer has come good.  I have the new phones, still can only turn them on and off.  With all the fuss and bother of the last few weeks I haven't looked into the computer situation.  And can't figure out if I'm in trouble now that Microsoft is going to stop supporting XP if I'm running FireFox.  Thank goodness I don't own an iPhone.
Now I'm going to have a treat. Cafe style fruit loaf and lovely hot coffee. I really deserve it.

Still here.

I'm still coughing but not as much, nose is almost clear and the headache is gone.  I'm certainly going for the flu jab as soon as possible.  I know is doesn't stop the flu but it does calm it down a bit and it's worse than a cold virus. 
Mother was glad to see me. She is going downhill slowly but surely and there's nothing we can do. She's quite cheerful and the mind is still okay.  After the Saturday night when even she thought she was going to die, Doc Marvin has keep a close eye on her.  Now every carer and nurse in the place knows if the paperwork for her is not up to date when he comes in, whatever time or day then they are going to get a mouthful. 
I expect to get a mouthful myself after this weekend of being extremely rude about the running of the kitchen and the quality of the food. Mother's glucose and insulin is still not stable but it doesn't matter to the kitchen. Charcoal toast and cold lunches for the past three days and my sister witnessed this as did I.  
So when I went to see her yesterday, I ordered a toasted ham and cheese sandwich for her lunch just in case she got another load of swill. I had coffee, walked through Mentone, walked through Coles then to the Home.  The sandwich was still warm when I opened it and Mum shared hers with another resident and they both said the same thing, cold lunch. It would only be 5 minutes from the kitchen to mum's room so the plate is obviously not warm to start with. It was 10 minutes before I got a word out of either of them as they drooled their way through that damn sandwich. The tea boy was berated by all when he came to remove the dishes and since he's a little squealer, it'll be on my head.  I have already threatened them with the Dept of Aged Care so now is the time to be very quiet and let them wait for the other boot to fall.

The Arfur Daley car yard is reducing its stock. The wheeler and dealer has sold the Kombi on ebay and it's going  Tuesday. The buyer wanted to know if he could drive it home so it went round the block this morning, puffing smoke but otherwise going like a dream. I had to laugh though, he had his mate with him and all I could think of was Ratty and Mole from The Wind in the Willows.  The nephew is 6'4" and the mate is about 4'6" and all I could see of him in the van were his eyes and a hat.  So I still have a '64 no wheels Falcon, a VW soft top and a black Datsun which will be sold as soon as it's turbo tuned.  This turn-around is all due to the fact that he has now bought an Audi, front in perfect condition, engine magnificent but no boot where it was rear ended.  The owner, when told the fix-up price just said forget it, the wheeler and dealer offered him cash and it was his.  He just happened to have the back end of an Audi in perfect condition on hand.   I sat through 30 photos of the ins and outs of an Audi and I have to admit it's in beautiful condition inside. Cream leather and wood trim with all the bells and whistles and a very clean engine.   When he finishes with it, it'll be perfect. 

And a big thank you to Miss O'Dyne again who told me about the trick of putting a small pipe on the tap handle to make it turn easily.  He's doing that for me next week in the usual barter for car rent space.  I just cannot grasp the tap hard enough to turn it on or turn it off so I've always got the hoses wrapped around  trees for the leaks I can't help.  He came in last week and opened up all the jars I had lined along the bench. I'd already hacked off the lid of the vegemite jar.
And wonderful in the storm last night, Mick the tree lopper had cleaned the spouting so well, I only had half a bucket of water to put on the plants.

Head hurts

Everything hurts especially when I cough which I've been doing since last week.
Sinus dripping like a tap, joint pain, headache and this is only a cold virus. I'll be getting the flu jab as soon as possible. Two nights of not sleeping didn't help. If I sat up, I coughed, If I tried lying down, I coughed and whistled. It sounded like rats had set up a nest in the lung.

It's been made worse by not being able to go anywhere near the Home and having to rely on other people to give me news. We nearly lost mother on Saturday night but once again she came through. I'd had  cancelled the little party on Saturday but a couple of friends went in. She was very hot, not the weather, and wet cloths for her head and a fan helped. Night nurse rang me about eight and her blood sugar was through the roof and Doc Marvin had ordered Insulin for her to stop it going to coma level.

Next morning she tells me it was 136, in which case I was talking to a corpse or she heard wrong. She then tells me she shouldn't have had a glass of lemonade but I find out from friends she'd had several glasses because she was so thirsty. Bingo! If I'd been there I would have realized she was having so much lemonade because water wasn't quenching her thirst, diabetes was acting up when it's been stable since she went to live there. That episode was due to infection and is still not settling down and Insulin is still in the mix. Doc Marvin arrived yesterday to check on her. They are always so surprised that he turns up, you'd think by now they should know and have all the paperwork up to date instead of getting a lecture and I wouldn't want a lecture from him.

So no pavlova for mother but joy, the lazy bitch in the kitchen had put her down for frankfurts for tea. Mother always has toasted sandwiches for tea, always. fortunately the tea lady came in and questioned the choice. It looks like I'm going to have to start going in at lunchtime to see that she's having at least one meal that's edible. Yesterday they served up curry, she never eats curry, ever, so she didn't eat and the BGL went up to 27.9 just before the Doc arrived. Today it was lovely chicken with potato and green vegetables because the part time chef was cooking.

I am barred from going in until Thursday when this damn virus should be almost gone. I would go tomorrow but I can't take the chance of her catching anything and I would be totally out of it by the time I made it back home. I haven't bothered taking my BGL either. The only thing that stopped the cough, momentarily, and the glass coated throat was taking water with honey dissolved in it. Sips of that while I talked on the phone was the only way I could talk. And I agree with Miss O'Dyne that one can live on toast very comfortably.
Computer is still powering down to dead stop but I'll keep going while I can.

Bright as a button

No idea where that saying comes from but that's what the old girl was like today. My sister was astounded. I was astounded that my sister went back for a second day but she said mother looked so bad yesterday that she didn't want to remember her like that. Mother is fine, a little breathless but she had a shower, pathology and ECG and lunch. Rang twice on the phone and doesn't remember much about yesterday at all. Now she wants a new mobile with bigger buttons so she doesn't make a mistake by locking it and not being able to get me.

I have lungs that are on fire, throat still like broken glass, dizzy and headache.  She would like to see me tomorrow even without the pavlova. And you wonder why I keep saying we'll have to throw her in a vat of molten steel to knock her off.

And the plate. Neat, it's an inside windchime using an old plate and bits of cutlery. I'm not sure about the heavy spoons and forks though, I'd rather put large gems on a longer chain. Mind you, plates with this kind of edge were very expensive in the day but I've got a parrot one hanging around somewhere unless I've gone mad with de-cluttering and chucked it.  Not even pretty dangles are taking my mind off what's gone on these last two weeks. There's a meltdown coming, I feel it.

Nineteen seconds to meltdown

Nothing like staggering in with a meagre breakfast and black coffee to find an email from Miss O'Dyne and she has sent me a cake. Not just any cake but a Maraschino cherry cake with fluffy cherry frosting. I drooled, probably would have drowned if it had had whipped cream on the side.

I have a new phone, $54, with additional handset for the study and 67 pages of instructions on how to use it. Apparently it was my fault with the phone. The last time I tripped a over t, I detached a wire inside which was shorting out all the other phones. Now all I have to do is work out how to make the thing go ring ring instead of sounding like a air raid siren. 

The computer is another creature altogether. In March 2010, I had it upgraded to 1gb of memory but the whole thing is not powering up as it should. I'm saving it for emails and banking and just managed to do online shopping by a whisker before it tanked last night. So now looking at new towers, not laptops. I like my desktop, in the study and when it's turned off that's it, I walk away otherwise I'd be at it all night.

Mother, well, mother is not doing too well.  She had an x-ray this morning and tomorrow, pathology and an ECG. Thank you Doc Marvin who set up an in house service for all of this so residents wouldn't have to go and wait in hospitals anywhere.  Her heart is not beating fast enough to get the fluid out of her lungs, she has a pressure sore that is not healing, the cellulitis in the leg is still building up for a breakout and she has tremors in both arms so bad so threw lemonade over the idiot Tea-boy on Monday.  In other words, she's cactus but today is her 84th birthday and she made it, just like she said she would. I had organized something for Saturday but I must cancel as she is too ill and tired for people.  She would say no, but I'm not falling for that. Of course she could fool us again and survive and if she does, then she really does deserve the label of "Terminator".

Twenty-three and a half seconds to meltdown

My computer is about to fry itself so I thought I had better get a post up while the posting is still going.  My landline is not fixed even after a visit to Telstra on Tuesday.  I do have a work order number which won't do any good at all unless they're on the doorstep. It was worth the visit to see the frustration on the Telstra drone's face as he tried to access the call centre which is somewhere half way up a mountain in the Hindu Kush.  He finally got through then was put on hold while they traced the work number.  I smiled sweetly and said, "annoying isn't it."  I won't be smiling tomorrow when I hit the joint running.

I was early to  the Home on Tuesday for the Chinese lunch.  I usually see mother in the afternoon and my sister sees her in the morning so how that stupid bitch didn't notice the tremors in mum's arms, from fingertips to shoulder I don't know. She just said she never looks at her, fckn brilliant.
I yelled at carer, nurse and unit manager and demanded it was put in her file immediately. Doc Marvin was in the next day and he yelled louder than I did. Not one word was in the file about the nut job in the other bed not letting mum get any sleep but the tremors were in. Good ole Doc, couldn't do anything about the roomie but he could do something about her doctor and he did.
She was there today, asked two questions, stayed five minutes and left. Some doctor!
The tremors are caused by too much ventolin but he can't drop the dose until her lungs are clear and he's ordered more antibiotics.  Apparently he could be heard even with the office door shut and the new Unit Manager knows what a real doctor can do.  

Doc Marvin was worried because he'd never seen mum look so down. Usually they chat about what she's doing or what dvd she's watching and that's how he assesses her general health. She didn't tell him that half the trouble was not being able to get in touch with me by phone. She feels isolated when she's not feeling well, something I think I've finally got through to stupid bloody sister. She still won't go down for more than half an hour though, can't think of anything to say to mum. 

There'll be things said tomorrow at Telstra.  Five big vans went past the house this morning plus the garbage trucks.  I checked where the bins where and where the phone line was and unless I walked way down the other end of the nature strip with heavy bins then it was going to be hit and miss with the garbage truck catching the line.  So the dvd viewer has fried itself, the computer is going and the phone has gone, so far. To round things out nicely, I couldn't get the lid of the vegemite for breakfast, I can't get the lid off the chutney or the lid off the pickles.  Bright spot was having 10 big Rosellas in the apple tree this morning. I'd put a photo up but I don't want to overload the geriatric CPU. If I don't post, you all know what's happened. 

Apparently the state of the economy is all my fault.

Yes, because I'm obese, old, medically unsound and I have a pension.  There now, you have someone to focus on instead of the shit government currently in power.
1.  When I worked I paid taxes. I still pay tax via the GST.
2.  When I worked, women didn't get superannuation.
3.  When I stopped work, I was helping the shouse rat ex up the corporate ladder.
4.  I raised two kids who paid tax.
5.  Getting old was always going to happen.
6.  Getting fat stopped me from having a nervous breakdown and clogging up the pysch hospitals.
7.  Medically unsound is in the eye of the beholder and her doctor.
8.  When the pension age of 65 was designated as 'the age', the average poor bloody worker was dead by 55. Bastards knew what they were doing even back then.
9.  I've had a crap week and the next person who comes out blaming obese old medically unsound pensioners will get a thump over the head with a large club.
10. Smile, it could be worse, us old obese medically unsound pension demanding fogeys could be shipped off to Manus Island as undesirables.

And the Telstra mongrels have not fixed my landline which has been off for nearly a week. They are aware of the problem, Yea!  I was on my neighbour's phone for 40 minutes waiting for the Peter Sellers Call Centre listening to the most appalling muzak before I heard a human voice.  He took all my details and said he would check details and be right back.  Black holes in the Universe opened and swallowed stars while I waited another 20 minutes. Then a robot asked me if I was satisfied with the help I'd had and could I press a number from zero to one to indicate my pleasure. When I pressed zero, the robot said why wasn't I happy?  Because I was still standing there hanging on to a bloody phone waiting for an answer. The robot hung up. 
My neighbour (no, not hernextdoor) made a cup of coffee and I sat down and knew it was a mistake, I do not do well sitting six inches from the floor.  Getting up gave her the best laugh she'd had all week but I did not fall on my backside, I was too frightened to.
My shoulders are almost right but the left hip took quite a belting in the storm on Thursday night. I should have started this with.....It was a dark and stormy night...because it was when the transformer blew two houses down the street. In the pitch dark I missed the door way and whacked into the door frame as I went for the torch. There were lots of four letter sailor type words and limping, lots of limping.
And because everything was on when the power went off, I had to stay up for it to come back on so I could turn it all off.
I read a book with a torch on my shoulder.  I couldn't see what the candle on the mantle was doing, same as all the others I thought. Not with my luck, the wick had leaned sideways, put a hole in the wax which was melting down the mantle, down my string of gold stars and on to my holograph picture of a wizard and the carpet.  By this stage the four letter vocabulary was exhausted and it was too late to drink Gin.
See, not only obese, medically unsound, old, pensioner but boozer with a foul mouth. I may have just set a new bench mark for entrance to Manus, or Parliament.

Join me in the pain party

I found this and couldn't resist posting it. He hasn't been around much so I'm thinking that Rochester is holed up in a green tree somewhere composing more poetry or singing to the birds. He'd have to sing, there's no room in there for a piano.

I am in pain. It's taken me days to realize why I'm in pain and how stupid it is to do things when I'm old that I didn't even think about when I wasn't.  All those 40 degree days, surely they're over now, but to keep the house cool I would pull all the blinds right down, shut doors to rooms and generally it worked. But at night I would have to get the blind up in my room to open the window. And there is the problem, stupid ex with his heavy hand managed to destroy every spring in all the rollers blinds in the house. I did replace one or two until nobody knew what a roller blind was let alone the spring. 
So I'm standing on tiptoe and rolling up the blinds by hand. Wasn't difficult a few years back but we didn't have too many unholy temperature days in a row and I was taller then. I've shrunk a few inches. Blind in the bedroom is 10 feet long in old money, lounge still has a spring and is 12 feet, hallway, no spring is 8 feet, kitchen, no spring 6 feet, second bedroom, no spring, 8 feet but I just shut that door. The study I fixed up ages ago by putting up drapes and cutting the roller blind to the roller and threading the lace curtain on to that which fitted inside the window.
I've stretched beyond limits, anything and everything that connects my shoulders to my neck and spine. Fortunately I didn't tear anything beyond repair. That would have been real pain so once I figured out the cause it was Panadol every four hours and lots of moaning, snivelling and sobbing.  All those great things one can do aloud when living alone. But I still couldn't work out why, once it calmed down, the pain would grab again. Bingo, don't let a cold fan blow across hurting things since they'll go into spasm and start pain rage all over again.  It's quiet now but I think I've possibly given my liver major damage since I always forget if the four hours since the last pills are actually up.

And to top it off the cat got mugged.  I didn't hear a cat fight or scream but then I had shovelled a couple or more of sleeping pills down. He was covered in filth, not sand when I brushed him down but sandy grease so I presume he hid under the car. I found that out when I was operating on him on my white doona cover but brave little lamb let me cut away the fur to see the damage. Well, something with a very big gob put two fangs into his shoulder and two directly opposite under his armpit ? legpit ? I think the chomp on the bone hurt more than anything else and the wounds are clean. He's had his calming water brushed into his fur and his calming drops in food and now he's grounded. He can go out in the morning but night time is barred, consequently after all my gentle treatment, he's not speaking to me. 

Now a whine about hernextdoor and her concept of personal space. I rarely get inside her front door, usually I'm borrowing something from husband's realm in the garage and dressed in my household rags and looking like a bag lady. Still, this morning I'd been up, fed the beast, put the washing machine on which didn't go on, power outage so I went back to bed and warmed up the hurting back. I heard the front gate creak, which is why I don't oil it, cheap alarm system. I thought it probably was the BOH and some one did come in the back door, that's right in the back door through the lounge to the light switch, not put her hand round the open back door and try the outside light switch but through my house. She didn't want to disturb me, she says. If I had done that to her she would have had me on trespass charges.  Karma's a bitch, she has an all electric house and the electricity didn't come back on until midday and it had been off since 2 a.m.. I hope she was gasping for a cuppa and had a cold shower.

The weather is so delightful...not

 My dear blogmates, I've been thinking of you baking all day and I think you should all come to my place for a pool party. My pilot will pick you up and take you home. You'll be in no condition to drive or fly yourself.

 I've had the pool room cleaned and set up for afternoon tea, dinner and a little supper.

 Don't bring a thing. I've got the swim togs all sorted for our sizes, shapes and whatever.

 And of course, our Andrew, you know how he likes to put on a show. Memo to self, make sure he leaves the real and expensive ruby behind when he leaves.

 Oh, darlings, Pink Champagne is sooo last century. We're having Blanc de Bleu, to match the pool of course.

 And there'll be ice-cream. I've had the $1,000.00 Golden Sundaes flown in from Manhatten.

And there'll be cakes. They have to be petite cakes, after a few glasses of Blanc de Bleu, you elegant lot always have trouble feeding your faces.
Get ready, there'll be a knock on the door any moment now.
Oh, gosh, we'll have fun.

No, I didn't think these up but I could have

Now this is an ace idea except for the grass growing up between the rocks and looks like it might need weeding which is not in my job description. But around the water meter, great, since S.E.Water practically buried the Tap and meter last time hernextdoor's water pipe burst. Probably would look neat hanging off the back of the Kombi, the VW and the Falcon.

 I immediately thought of River when I saw this. I know you love bright colours and have a small garden but just right for this caterpillar. I'm not sure about glow in the dark paint for this, kind of creepy/spooky but wow for Halloween.

 Now Elephant's Child, this is definitely ours. It has steps, canopy, lanterns aromatherapy candles and bubbles. I don't see a stubby holder though, still if we can afford this, we can afford the butler bringing out the Bombay Sapphire and in the good crystal glasses. No champagne, enough bubbles in the spa and I get giggly and drownable on champagne.

And for all four of us, the garden retreat for the reading of books, gossiping, pinning on Pinterest, blogging and eating cake, especially eating cake. This would sit neatly between my apple tree and lemon tree. I can't tell you how badly I want this garden delight and everything in it. I believe the spa would go beside it and we could wander back and forth, the forth would probably be very zigzag so the glow in the dark rocks will come in handy.
And since how government thinks that pensioners are on a good wicket, we should be able to afford the lot.
Up yours Abbott!