Tiffany Blue

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YA

HAAAAAAAAAPY BIRTHDAY

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OLD O'DYNE

MAY SHE SEE MANY MORE

MOTTO FOR OLDIES

SORRY IT'S NOT IN TIFFANY BLUE

 

Fashion shoes and I are divorcing

Surely someone can slap up a fab arthritis support shoe for scrunched feet that are wider and hurtier and swollen and ugly but have a need to be prettified.  I swear mine are starting to look like the feet in Roald Dahl's "The Witches" but hurting more.

But not like these.

Or these.

But it seems I will be left with this pair.

I love Minions.  With my soon to be mine 'Blue Flash'  walker and my Converse Minions I will officially be a designated Crazy Old Woman.    Kill me now.

And my last word on this vile Government, after watching Question Time this afternoon which nearly had me upchucking over my Minions.

One on every street corner.

 

Wishes do come true

Absolutely nothing to do with this post but I would build a staircase to nowhere just for the mice.

I was reading an article by Clem Barstow, a blogger from the good old days when writing a post was an art and comments articulate.  She was recalling all the things from her youth that she wanted in her house when she eventually bought one.

I looked around my House of Havisham and decided that I had everything I ever wished for when young except for a huge all around the house verandah.
My life started in a tackroom/bungalow, moved to a house in Ferntree Gully complete with rats and snakes in the year it snowed close to Melbourne. Then it was back to Mentone to a converted part of a garage complete with rats.  In 1950 something we moved to Ma's dream house. Half bush, half swamp with no drainage and a backyard dunnie.  These properties are now selling up near the million dollar mark.
Now comes the start of my wish list.

Floor coverings.  With swampy bits under the house, lino doesn't cut it for warmth and I never was a human that could do without warm.  When the first carpet went down, I found mother lying flat on her back just enjoying the feeling.  I did the same when I moved into my home.

Heating.  Open fires never reach more than two feet in any direction.  So we lashed out and bought a briquette heater.  My father loved mod. cons. and would have been in heaven these days.  But what a pest it was trying to work out how many bricks one would need to get through the midnight spook movie on Fridays.  Believe me there was no way I was going out in the dark and up the side of the house to fill the bucket.  Then came the gas heater.  I was warm in winter.

Cooling.  Fans, open windows, sometimes a block of ice in a tub in front of the fan.  That was it.
As much as I hated the cold, I hated the hot heat of what seemed an unending summer.  We did have a swimming pool made of canvas, the Christmas we got it, the rain fell for two weeks. The trouble was the water was too cold and I was forever putting in a jug of hot water to warm it up. Talk about the Princess and the Pea. I only liked the beach in the mornings or night, any other time and I burnt like a sausage on a bbq, had blistering headaches and usually nosebleeds.
Now I have indoor air-conditioning, lovely, tick that off the list.

I have an indoor toilet.  I feel sorry for every tree cut down for making toilet paper but I so appreciate their sacrifice for my comfort. I still have the memories of banging the toilet seat to scare away the wildlife that lived underneath. The slightest whiff of Phenol opens a Pandora's box of horrors that was an outdoor dunny.

But I do still wish for an all round verandah. I'd still get the north wind up my nose but I'd be in shade, in a swing or a chaise lounge with pillows and maybe a few pot plants that I'd actually water.
And out the back, a simple clothes line strung up so I didn't have to stagger down the yard to wrestle with the Hills Hoist.

And could I please win Tattslotto so I can employ a housekeeper.  

Clem also wanted chandeliers.  I have chandeliers, I love my chandeliers and I'll love them better when the housekeeper is here to polish them.

August 3, that's 3 days closer to another birthday.

Yes I would have loved this cake for my birthday.

I would even have loved this cake for my birthday.

Did I get any cake for my birthday, nada, no, zilch, nothing.  My sister forgot, went out to lunch and didn't invite me, didn't say Happy Birthday when she dropped into the Home for her usual 10 minutes.

Nephew rang yesterday, very apologetic but then he never remembers his own birthday, I have to do it for him.  He sold a car from my driveway so said he would buy me anything I wanted.  All I want is him at my door when I need a lift or have an urgent need for fish and chips for tea, like now.

Mother made me a card and even managed to write in it with wibblywobbly writing but the 'take whatever you need and buy something nice' was quite clear.

The Divine O'Dyne sent me a present, the kind that keeps on keeping on.  Big black ribbon, check, big strong box to be re-used for jewellery, check, lovely shiny paper which ironed out nicely, check and lots of goodies inside, check.  Because this was the only present I received, I'm only looking at one thing a day.

HighRiser did not bring me back a little rock from a glacier or Niagara Falls. Shitty card for Christmas for him.

Nothing from my sister.

Phone call from youngest granddaughter, 21 in November.  Knows her own mind, just wish knowing she wants to be a missionary come Minister of some nutjob Christian Church in California where she has been studying for the past year wasn't so high on her agenda.  Already she has missionaried in Rio and plans to do it all over the world. She was very careful not to tell me exactly what Church or where it is in California.  

Sometimes it's better not to know anything at all about their lives.

Eldest went to India this year.  I really loved all the postcards that didn't arrive.

I have picked out a, not a wheelie, they're called Rollators with extra wide seat for extra wide sitting part.  Now just to sell the treadmill on ebay.  Diabetes educator has not realized I haven't been back and I'm not going back.  Walk, she said, you must walk for the good insulin levels.  The insulin might have done something but the arthritis in the crumbling foot belted it up a notch. So now I've graduated to a Rollator. I wish these people would see that the 'one size fits all' cure/diet for diabetics doesn't always work and it hasn't worked on me. 

So sad to see Bronnie's gone from the Speaker's chair, I was looking forward to another month of LOLs but here we have Darth Ruddock rising from the dead, croaking and groaning but ever willing to take the load on his shoulders.  I must be feeling better if Parliament is giving me a laugh.

A word of warning, don't ever buy a Peanut Butter ice cream Magnum.  I'm warning you Magnum, don't get all arty with the flavours or I'll leave you in a ditch.  I'm still trying to get the noxious flavour out of my mouth.  Who ever thought that would be a good idea is not human.  There is nothing good about peanut butter ice cream, nothing.

 

Please, never let this end.

Once the dam breaks, it just keeps flowing.  I'd like to know if she has a secret slush fund for hair spray.

Okay I needed a week of laughs.  Dentist, X-rays, large needles and extraction of back molar and mother.  
I thought just one week for me after fixing up all the other crap this month but no, she just didn't want to worry me. It's never bothered her before.  Couldn't ring me, no credits on the phone but forgot I can ring her.  Thursday I get a call and she has a headache again.  Thursday night I get a call from a friend who tells me she hasn't had her proper breakfast for 4 days because the kitchen ran out of Weetbix before the next delivery.  She's had rice bubbles.  This is just after I spent an hour re-doing her patient care plan about food and making it clear that she must have Weetbix and toast for breakfast.  It's the one meal she really looks forward to and if she doesn't get it, her blood sugar drops until lunch arrives, cue headache.
Our friend walked up to Coles, barely 5 minutes away and bought a box of Weetbix out of her own pocket.
I was going to put in a complaint but by the time I arrived on Friday through the freezing wind and sore mouth, if I had complained it would have been with a brick through the office window.  I had had enough.  Wouldn't you have thought that someone could have taken some petty cash and walked to Coles and bought the Residents breakfast.  Not that lot, it would mean admitting a mistake and they don't admit or explain or apologize. 

My stars at this time last year said I would have to look back 12 years to see what this 12 month cycle would bring since Jupiter the bringer of luck and whatever only travels your sign once every 12 years.  I did that and it was a great year back then, I even lost weight and I was happily divorced and looking forward to a new life.  It didn't happen this 12 months, it's been totally without joy.  I haven't even loooked to see which planet hoves into view at the end of August because it couldn't be any worse.

I did get an early birthday card, thank you to Aitkens Real Estate but it still won't make me sell you my house.  Selling up and running away with the money would mean I'd have to clean up and pack books, never going to happen.  Where would the four cars in the drive go? Would the Ice Bear cope with moving? Who would look after the filligree hamster if the stove was chucked out? 

Good old Bronnie, the only person who's made life fun for the last of my wondrous year.  

I love the smell of burning bronnies in the morning

Bwahahaha, keep them coming, they're better than Fat Joe's or the Bat Earred Monk's. 

 Hi ASIO, keep up the good work at the demo's.

And you thought being rich makes for the perfect wedding.

 Glorious Valentino lace wedding gown, $50,000

 Hand made Louboutin wedding shoes with her new name, price unknown.

Having someone park the car on your floating veil, priceless.

Happy Day Nicky Hilton Rothschild.

Australian politics is just anarchy without the bullets

Yes, that is my opinion in that photo.  

Yes, I love minions especially when they speak my language.

I spent this morning's breakfast break watching Bill Shorten in the witness box trying to answer the same question put 80 trillion different ways by the interrogator and it was Shorten who was accused of being a time waster.  
This is costing taxpayers a fuckload of money for which they will no doubt find a way to blame pensioners and the unemployed for the country being in a financial crisis....again.....still or are we out of that crisis implied in Fat Joe's first budget.
Getting to the point faster than Bill, I would like to point out that this is the 21st century and most of the world is computer savvy, a few of us might still like to write with a quill but digital is top of the heap.  So why are the relevant documents in this inquisition not on a computer in front of all concerned so that when invoice no. 639 is called to front and centre, volcanoes erupt, buildings collapse, Captains Call before it is found.  Bill is time wasting?  Flipping pages in numerous binders instead of being able to enter no.639 and instant invoice seems a lot more time wasting and money wasting than Bill trying to answer questions from when he was in Parliament and not playing at Union boss.  Let this be a lesson to all leaders of everything, keep a diary, it'll save us money and throwing breakfast plates at the tv.   
I received my Visa statement this week and couldn't remember a thing I'd bought last month so don't ask what I bought 10 years ago.

Second on my shitlist for the day.  Shenhua Group, mining, large, coal. May dragons comsume your firstborn to the nth generation for mining the Liverpool Plains, a food bowl and glorious countryside.
No need to worry yet, they won't start chopping up the wildlife until 2017 so we have plenty of time to plant the landmines, roll out the barbwire and oil up the shotguns.  Barnaby is on the job, he's very very upset with the Captain, like that will amount to a pile of cow crap.  Ah, the Captain, he who famously said, the Country is open for business.  The business of open coal mining, fracking, logging old growth forests and next Soylent Green, I mean who will miss old people and the unemployed.
I'm an endangered species, I'm obese and old, I could make so many SG dried pellets I'm practically a walking bankable asset.

Third, mother lived, again.

Full Moon July 2nd

Okay, mother really bad this time.
She had a shower last week and they had to rush her back to bed and oxygen.
This is the longest time she has spent in bed at the Home and she says she's not getting up until she feels better.
This from WonderWoman who would not stay in bed for anything and demanded a shower every day.
She's back on Penicillan injections (sp?), oxygen, big purple antibiotics, patches over her heart and oxygen.
The coughing up of bits of lung into the phone was enough to keep me away without her telling me to stay home in case I caught it. 
I don't think I'll catch what she has.

I'll be back whenever.  Thank goodness I have anti-depressant ice-creams in the freezer.

How much renewable energy could we have by burning redundant politicians, 'let them eat cake' Hockey could burn for years!

On Thursday, Prime Minister Tony Abbott used primetime radio to boast about cutting clean energy, calling wind farms "visually awful" and arguing "I would frankly have liked to have reduced the number a lot more". 1

Now, his government is kicking straight into action by rescheduling a parliamentary vote for Monday morning to slash jobs and investment for Renewable Energy Target (RET).

But here's the kicker: Monday's proposed legislation won't just cut investment in clean energy. The Abbott Government wants to redefine 'clean energy' altogether, by including burning native forests in the Renewable Energy Target. A move like this could see the open slather logging of forests that our Australian wildlife depend on for survival. Just as terrible: every native forest cut down and burnt for electricity takes away from capacity and more investment in the clean energy of the future - like solar.

That's the email I received from "Get Up" today.  Does this idiot realize how long a native forest tree takes to become "renewable" again?  Are the animals renewable, you know the ones who shelter in trees, on trees or underneath trees?  Does this troll of a politician know how much carbon trees take in and oxygen put out for us to breathe?  Does this entire political party have a brain cell between them that can estimate the damage of trees burnt and sold as "renewable" energy?  Well, the way the Mad Monk obviously sees it, most of the liberal (I refuse them a Capital) party have been living in the shadow of wind farms and have been permanently damaged by it.

Oh, here's a clue.  Let's build solar reflecting panel farms in our famous red and flaming hot centre. Too expensive  or you don't know what they are?  It's a shame you don't have a Minister for Science to explain it to you.  He could also explain about building wind farms in windy places because the wind is free.  Never mind we'll have lots of windy places when all the trees are cut down.  Perhaps the Minister for the Environment could look up "Mallee" and see what the ignorant did to that region.
Do we have a Minister for the Environment, as in for all Australia not just looking after the grounds of Parliament House and making sure no-one sneaks a wind turbine up there considering the free hot air that flows from that asylum.  Oh dear, there goes another trigger word, Hello ASIO.

It seems like yesterday.

Mt St. Helens under a layer of snow, towering above  Spirit Lake, just the place for a holiday of camping and hiking.  35 years ago, just before it blew its top leaving a horseshoe-shaped crater and devastation for miles.  The top of the volcano was blocked by a plug of hardened magma so the mountain simply blew out of the side after an earthquake of 5.1.  It caused one of the largest known debris avalanches in recorded history.  The magma caused a massive pyroclastic flow of hot gas and wind down the side of the mountain flattening everything in its path over an area of 600 square kilometres.  The debris was then carried further by the melted snow combined with earth as huge lahars flowed.

Thirty-five years later and the scars have still not quite healed.  The horseshoe crater is still visible as is the new magma dome inside the crater.  Beautiful Spirit Lake is in the upper centre of the image. At centre right of the image is Castle Lake.  At right of Spirit Lake, debris avalanche deposits surround the tiny St. Helens Lake and the long line of Coldwater Lake.
Scientists estimate the eruption released over 1.5 million tonnes of sulfur dioxide into the atmosphere and recorded a Volcanic Explosivity Index of five.

This image was assembled from data acquired by the Operational Land Imager on Landsat 8 and the Advanced Spaceborne Thermal Emission and Reflection Radiometer (ASTER) on the Terra satellite.

Like I said, it just seems like yesterday. In geological terms, it's a blink which is why climate change deniers are going to be eating their words after another 35 years.  And please, could we possibly have a Minister for Science some time before then and preferably not Greg Hunt who can't see the coral for the reef and insists that all that coal mining and coal shipping won't hurt the Great Barrier Reef at all, not a bit. 

Let's talk

Fitzroy Island on the Great Barrier Reef.

New research into early Aboriginal stories set along Australia's coast has detected evidence of dramatically rising shoreline waters over several thousand years. It seems that sea level about 20,000 years ago was 120 meters below its current level, rising 13,000 years ago to about 70 meters below current sea level.

It seems today's sea level was finally reached only about 6,000 years ago. Linguists have also uncovered ancient Aboriginal tales about living where the Great Barrier Reef now stands.
"In the beginning, as far back as we remember, our home islands were not islands at all as they are today. They were part of a peninsula that jutted out from the mainland and we roamed freely throughout the land without having to get in a boat like we do today. Then Garnguur, the seagull woman, took her raft and dragged it back and forth across the neck of the peninsula letting the sea pour in and making our homes into islands."

This is part of an Aboriginal story about the origin of the Wellesley Islands in the southern Gulf of Carpentaria.  It's a story that can be found along every part of the coast of Australia.  But these stories are not part of the "Great Flood" tales found all over the world, the difference being in the Aboriginal stories, the water does not recede and the land does not regenerate.  The sea levels changed around Australia after the ice ages and it's well known scientifically.  The source of the legends seems to be based on observations of events and preserved through oral traditions as the sea level rose all around the world but only here do the stories exist.

They may have existed elsewhere but scholars had the view that oral traditions rarely survive more than a millennium so probably never looked for them.  Australian Aboriginal storytelling is for preserving information, handing down from generation to generation with accuracy. Of course you have to try to make a distinction from the 'fact' story and the story for entertainment.

One of the comments on this article said that "Socrates was concerned that the switch to written language would mean a decline in people's cognitive abilities." "The skills required to remember a complex narrative are allowed to atrophy when you have that narrative available in written form."

I could not read Chaucer in the original old English. I have trouble with HipHop language.  I have trouble with some parts of Shakespeare although four hundred years separate his language from english now, we are still using phrases he invented.  But we could not repeat his plays word for word without printing.  I must admit I got a bit lost in the comments after a while, my brain went walkabout but when we read the laments about the burning of the great library of Alexandria, that is something that we, who rely on the written word, can relate to.  Can we relate to the loss of an oral tradition of a catastrophe if we never knew there was one?

I still have a Sony Walkman, tapes, vinyl records but I can't watch the 16mm films of the family made in the 70s unless I go to great expense of having them put on dvds.  I can tell you the family stories but with no-one to follow me, they'll die out.  So with all the blogs, tweets, facebooks or instagrams of the electronic age, we're still behind, way behind, the Aboriginal tradition of the Dreamtime storyteller.

But we still have our storytellers, bless Parliament and its contingent of accomplished liars.

(All that waffling to make that one point.  Don't you love language.)

Why didn't I think of this?

I loved this idea but it would not do for our giant native birds like magpies and ravens.  The Mynah birds would give them a decent whack as well so the pretty cord would have to go and fencing wire used instead.  I rather like the thought of them hanging on the leafless branches for winter and I'm always resisting buying a lone cup and saucer at the op shop just because it looks pretty.  I have a cupboard full of 'looks pretty' and I'm still using a chipped mug.

But here's one for Miss O'Dyne and myself for those genteel afternoon teas in spring.  Wine glass tea cups with the added benefit of nosey parkers not being able to see the gin or plonk (in Miss O's case) or sometimes we do have tea. The Willow pattern is a bit heavy looking, I'd rather go for a nice Royal Albert or Aynsley.  Miss O and I are nothing but class all the way. 
 

Sheer genius this idea.  Your favourite tea cup as a bracelet.  Well, for me I'd have to cut up the teapot and that's the problem, the cutting up part. I suppose a tile cutter would do but knowing me I'd end up with a bucket of pretty pieces for that mosaic pathway I have also filed away as a brilliant idea.
 

Now I might have a chance of making this.  At last count I have 7 teapots and this would look great on the Christmas table.  Those cheap trees from the $2 emporium would be ideal with the added bonus of being able to use the teapot again.  So many ideas, so little time. 

The right place, the right time.

The Sky from Mauna Kea
Image Credit & Copyright: Shane Black Photography; Rollover Annotation: Judy Schmidt

The volcano is the Hawaii's Mauna Kea, and the time was a clear night last summer.

 In the foreground of this south-facing panorama lies a rugged landscape dotted with rocks and hardy plants. Slightly above and further out, a white blanket of clouds spreads horizontally to the horizon, seemingly dividing heaven and Earth.

 City lights illuminate the clouds and sky on the far left, while orange lava in the volcanic caldera of Kilauea lights up the clouds just left of center.

 The summit of an even more distant Hawaiian volcano, Mauna Loa, is visible in dark silhouette near the central horizon.

 Green airglow is visible above the clouds, caused by air molecules excited by the Sun during the day. The Moon is the bright orb on the right.

 A diffuse band of light-colored zodiacal light extends up from the far right.
 Most distant, the dramatic central band of our Milky Way Galaxy appears to rise vertically from Mauna Loa.

The person who witnessed and captured this breathtaking panorama stands before you in the image center.

I just watched the auction of a Picasso painting in New York, it sold for $202 Million dollars AUD.
You couldn't buy this moment on earth for any amount.  As Hannibal Smith says, "I love it when a plan comes together." and it did for one lucky photographer.

Whistling 'Mack the Knife'

This shark is 4.5 metres long and it has teeth not to mention just a bit of blood smearing from the last kill.
If I had been the photographer washing the camera in the water, the second photo would have been taken from far up in space.
The female shark popped up to have a look around in the ocean off Port Lincoln in South Australia.
Dave Riggs was making a video for Discovery's Shark Week and said he was euphoric to be so close to the animal and thought it was a perfect illustration as to why we need to preserve it as the last living relic of a bygone era.
Riggs also said the shark was researching the area the only way she know how, with her mouth, giving us a nice view of those sharp teeth.

Not so lucky as Dave Riggs was Frenchman Yves Berthelot, holidaying in New Caledonia, whose meeting with a 3.5 metre bull shark was a much more aggressive show. Despite being given first aid aboard his boat, nothing could be done for Mr. Berthelot.

I hope no-one raced out and decided to shoot every shark in the area as frequently happens in Australia.  After all it is their home and hunting ground, we're just visiting.

What's the point, if not cake!

Mothers Day, a day for mothers and what happens, the Cake Fairy loses my address again, probably pissed from visiting all those other mothers and being plied with champagne until her wings are wasted.  And I'm still waiting for my lemon meringue cupcakes and my vanilla and strawberry cream heart cake with musk hearts and cream on top.  I think I ordered two layers but I'm sure I didn't order purple icing.  There's always the Bombay Sapphire and if Absinthe can be called the Green Fairy then Bombay can have a Blue Fairy.  I love lemon meringue cup cakes.  Bloody fairy.

Twenty-Five thousand dollars a ticket entitles one to look like a tit

This is the gown Annie O mentioned yesterday.  Rihanna is dragging it along and giving every punster on Facebook the delight of a lifetime.  The back view has everything on it from pizza toppings to bacon but I'll stick with the original version.  And yes, there is another dress under it.

And where would we be without Lady Gaga and her "Transformers" boots. They are so huge I really did expect them to suddenly transform into small sports cars.
 

 Sarah Jessica Parker's headdress was by Phillip Treacey, well known supplier of head gear to the Princesses of York. Surely you haven't yet forgotten the lavatory seat come pretzel worn by Princess B at the big wedding.  The back of this gown was rather lovely, covered in dazzling embroidered red poppies.  But her hands.....she's only a small person but has huge hands and they're veined and aged looking.  The headdress would have distracted your eyes.

And to finish off, a back view of our trash winners of yesterday. 
Going through the photos of eek frocks, I found that by looking at the background some really lovely dresses were caught on camera but with this lot it's anything for my career and any photo is a good photo.

Wintour says "No selfies at Met Gala"

Next year perhaps Anna  Wintour might say bring classy dressing, leave showgirl trash at home.  One journalist excused Jennifer Lopez's daring bit of net because her body was toned to perfection. Someone's big foot on the back of that train and nothing would be excused.  

I looked at this and in my mind I could see the ever lovely Cher wearing it.  And why would it have been better on the Cher body because she never took herself seriously and would have worn this with loads of fun.  Alas, we have the Kardashian wearing it sans underwear of any kind and no class and definitely no sense of fun. Her accessory for the evening was the morose husband who did not wear a see through lace Tuxedo.

Hurrah for Australia's Jess Hart.  The Met Gala Ball's theme was China and she dazzled although it's a bit hard to see against the red carpet.  This dress is also net and could have been as classless as the other two but for the jewel encrusted lace that showed class instead of skin.  And for a bit of fun, a black pussy cat clutch.

I could have put more horrors here but for the rest go to the Daily Mail's report but do it on an empty stomach.

Just another episode

Before I start with the ranting and you don't want to read about my pain and family, focus on the jewellery.  Now this is the kind of ring I would want to wear all the time, no it's not flashy, it's Australian and we're never flashy, more expensively classy.  It's a bi-colour Sapphire, green, gold, green.  I have a small one of blue/green/gold in a triangle shape but not enough diamonds to make it up to look like this. It's well made, look at the length of the claws holding the stone and four claws holding each diamond.  

Now just keep looking while I snivel.
Did I not tell the Stomal therapist to be careful in regard to mother?  Apart from the allergic reaction to the adhesive of everything new she used, she never bothered to ring me or write a report for the Home.  I did receive 3 accounts of $115 each and had to check that she had made 3 visits instead of the two I knew about.  She is coming again to try something new and won't charge this visit, woot!
Too bad then that on Thursday afternoon, Mother decided to go a bit doollally and on Friday morning she couldn't wake up.  Not wouldn't, couldn't, she was asleep but knew she couldn't wake and the PCA on the other side of the closed eyes couldn't wake her. Eventually she did wake up and I went in as usual to be a Death Watch beetle by the bedside.  She had a temp but when she drifted off to sleep she started to shake badly which is when we found the Cellulitis across stomach, down to leg and around the back, big flare up.  Sister said I cannot blame ST because mum has no immune system but shit yes I can because I warned her repeatedly to read her files and be very careful.  Bitch sister went down yesterday and said she couldn't see what I was worried about, stayed half an hour and left. (a brick with her name on it is waiting)  Bitch ST is going to be paid but by cheque which I will post sometime next week or longer and she won't get the money for doing bloody nothing.

But I am in pain, couldn't get to the pharmacy for arthritis pills and I'm two days without them and can't walk, can't do my bra up, can't get shoes on and then they ring and ask me to come in.  Crap! So race up to Southland, get pills and several boxes of painkillers which they didn't want to give me until I explained that I take the appropriate painkiller for the level of pain I'm in. Since by this time I'm flat on the counter in a sweat, they give me what I want then I couldn't get the fck'n little arthritis pills out the fck'n childproof pack because my hands are fck'n hurting.  
Hurtle down to the Home to find mother is okay but the idiot in charge only wanted to update the records of palliative care for the Accreditation Team due in next week.  Would my mother want prayers said, would she like music, would she like the whole family with her or just a few (I am the fck'n few), would she go to hospital or stay at the Home.  Jesus H on a stick, I filled all this stuff out 6 years ago and this dill asked me why.  Because when she went in, she was palliative care and was only thought to last 4 months AND THEY LOOKED AFTER HER SO WELL, SHE'S STILL BLOODY HERE 6 YEARS LATER. Pardon the yelling because I've just had another call from the Home telling me the infection is spreading and the dumbarse in charge has sent a fax to Doc Marvin's office for him to read tomorrow.  Big bloody notice on mum's file says RING DOC MARVIN AT ANY TIME.  The man checks call centre, mobile phone and medical centre when she's ill but he probably wouldn't check the fax machine when they've just closed for the day.  

I have taken so many different pills over the last few days that I am now almost pain free, and can drop the doses, well I was until a minute ago, now I am going to search for that box of Cadbury's Roses I hid weeks ago and find the Magnum I know is at the back of the freezer.  It's time for self medication of a more pleasant kind.

And all this is happening when I have $205 left on my taxi card which means I've spent $2000 on fares since June 30 last year because of fck'n emergencies.

Magnum is Honeycomb.  I ate the espresso one last time I self medicated.

Amethyst by Mother Nature

JEAN VENDOME DIAMOND, AMETHYST, STALACTITE, CRYSTAL, STERLING SILVER, 18K YELLOW GOLD NECKLACE

Cascading down the left side are seven overlapping, graduating amethyst stalactite slices, ranging in size from approximately 50.00 to 20.00 mm, terminating in two carved floral amethysts each centering one full-cut diamond weighing a total of approximately 0.20 ct., cascading down the right side are eight graduating amethyst crystals ranging in size from approximately 35.00 x 20.00 mm, set in an articulated hinged, slide lever and figure eight locking sterling silver and 18k yellow gold collar. Accompanied by the original carved hinged wood box measuring approximately 10.50 x 10.50 x 2.50 inches.
Signed Vendome.
Sold for $22,420

I'd have bought it but it's not in my price range, anything under 25 grand is just for doing the housework in and you know me and housework.  It would make a nifty dreamcatcher with the moonlight shining through.