Hi, hopefully this is just a quick one, but who knows with me - haha.
Been so busy with the run up to Christmas and general stuff that I haven't posted anything for ages. But then again, haven't really had much I've wanted to write about to be honest.
Anyway, Christmas is now over for another year and I'm already starting on next year's in the sales. Like to see if I can get some decent birthday presents in them too. So 1/2 doz birthday presents are now done and about the same of Christmas 2011, plus all the cards and wrapping paper bought too! One satisfied and rather smug lady later curled up on sofa with a glass of fizz!
Anyway, back to thoughts. Does anyone else feel that there is loads of hard work, planning, organising, stress, cooking, build up and whatever else you can think of in the run up to Christmas (which I may add takes me months as I make all the cakes, puddings, etc too) and then the day is over in, well, minutes really. Once the kids have opened their presents and dinner is eaten, it kind of feels a bit flat! And by Boxing Day I'm ready to take down the decorations, put away the presents and get back to normal.
Some may argue that it's because I'm not religious so I don't 'get' the meaning of Christmas, but that's, well, pants really. I do Winter Solstice on 21st/22nd December, so I've done my 'religious' bit a few days beforehand. And, even though I'm not religious in the Christian sense of the word, I do like a good carol service. I did my Shoeboxes for Charity, but they are delivered in late November, so that doesn't add to my Xmassy feeling either. I always have people round (we had 6 for dinner this year) and I did the trampolining group Xmas party, so I feel that I've done the entertaining bit as well and my son has managed to get pretty much all of what was on his list (admittedly his list isn't that long in comparison to a lot of kids and I always buy him a couple of extra bits on top - I do mean a couple too, not dozens more), so he's been catered for and is extremely happy. But me, I'm just not that into it any more. This year I didn't get any Christmassy fuzzy feeling until Christmas Eve and that had all gone by about 7.30pm on Christmas Day. Am I becoming Scrooge in my old age?
I would dearly love to be able to leave everything to the last minute; stick the decorations up Christmas Eve (or maybe 21st December as I have a real tree anyway, so would fit in nicely with the Solstice) and rush around like a headless chicken for the two days and then chill out in preparation for New Year, but I know I can't do that. Even now, with months of organising, I still have the last week stress attack. Perhaps that's the problem. Christmas has become too much for me! Some would say it's because it's too commercial nowadays. Some, ie my partner, say I expect too much of myself in the search for the perfect day. Some would say that the kids expect too much and therefore there is too much strain on the wallet.
However, I have another theory! I honestly believe that Christmas is for children and children only. I used to adore Christmas when I was little. It was the same every year. Up early(ish) on the day with my stocking in my bedroom (Callum still has that now), then presents downstairs before going to my Aunt's house for dinner and more presents. Then Boxing Day my other 2 Aunts would come to us for tea. I loved it! But now, looking back, I can see that for my parents and especially my mum it would have been a nightmare of stress, organising, travelling, present buying, food shopping, etc, etc. In other words exactly like my Christmases are now!
I used to always go to my mum's for Christmas or she and dad would come to me. Once I had my daughter that stopped as I wanted Christmas Day just for us as a family without having to drag my daughter away from her toys on the Day. I then saw mum and dad on Boxing Day. I thought my mum would be upset, but I remember her saying that she was pleased and that now she could dispense with all the hassle. When my dad died, she went one step further and decorated her pot plant rather than a tree and had burgers and chips for dinner because that was her favourite. At the time it seemed weird, but now I can totally see her point. Can you?
Christmas is great when you are little; when presents appear from nowhere and people arrive to eat, drink and be merry. It's great when you are in your teens when you can go out with your mates, buy them drinks instead of presents and crawl, hungover, to mum's on the day. But when you are a parent, especially as you get older, it becomes more and more like hard work and less and less enjoyable.
Don't get me wrong, I still love Christmas. Honest, I do! I love watching people open their presents; I love giving people food and having their company, but that enjoyment is shorter lived now. It is the day and the day only. The time before is stressful and the time after is seen through an exhausted haze, but I wouldn't change it. I'm just wondering if I'm the only one. Bah Humbug!
Wednesday 29 December 2010
Sunday 14 November 2010
Hello all
Time to write this one now. I'm not going to go into all the Halloween stuff again, you can read that on my other blog: http://sajasper.blogspot.com/
I'm not going to go into Top Gear Live either as you can read about that there too! Well, from Callum's point of view and mine from the point of view of upgrading tickets.
So what am I going to write about? Actually, I'm not entirely sure! But I was determined to write something, so here goes.
I have noticed that my two blogs are sort of merging together on occasions. It's really difficult to write about an event that includes Callum without it having reference to his Asperger Syndrome, so I do feel that it should be written about on his page. However, they are events that I've attended too and I have my own views on them, but I don't want to bore everyone (especially those that read both blogs) by writing about them twice.
So, here's the dilema, what do I write about? Reading back the blogs, it does sound like my whole life revolves around Callum and in a way it does, but I do have a life of my own as well. And that life also contains apprehension, boredom and frustration about trips/events just as Callum's does, but I have to push those feelings to one side in order to deal with Callum first and foremost. I'm sure most parents feel like this, but on speaking to other parents with ASD children it does seem to be a particular common subject.
Take, for instance, the Top Gear trip. Callum was worried about going; he was worried about being on the train (apparently he is bored with trains now); he was worried about the underground - too many people, too noisy, worried about getting on and off; he was worried about the queue of people at Earls Court. It was raining and he was stressing about that too especially as he'd insisted on wearing his crocs and they had a hole in the bottom so his foot was wet. He was bored! The queue moved quickly once moving, but they were letting in small groups at a time so it was very stop, start, stop, start. This made him grumpy and frustrated. When we got inside, he was concerned about where everything was. We headed straight to the Gold Enclosure so we could get a bit of down time and that stressed him as it had a long escalator to go on to get to it. He stressed about queuing to go into the show; he stressed about coming out of the show. He wanted to go to the Paddock, but once inside, he wanted to get out. He loved the show! He loved the cars outside! But even then he stressed about getting his photos on his DSi. He almost didn't get his photo taken in the Peelp50 because he was nervous about the girls and the cameraman. He wouldn't go on any of the simulators even though dad encouraged him to. He then got tired and wanted to go home (there and then!), so he stressed on the tube as it was now rush hour and packed. He stressed at the station as that too was packed. He ate his Burger King on the floor, but was fine. He then panicked about getting on the train and moaned constantly because everything was running late! He then moaned when we got off the train as he didn't want to walk home and then when we got home he moaned as he didn't want to go to bed when it was time! All of this was expressed out loud!
Now all this sounds like he had an awful day, but he didn't, as anyone who read my blog on his page knows. He loved the day!! Wants to go again! What I want to point out to everyone is that this is a typical GOOD day! And I have to deal with it. I'm almost so used to it now that it isn't until I look back and actually write it down that I realise just what I deal with each time - to me it is normal. Now I'm not saying that neuro typical children don't have moans and groans and don't get bored or frustrated, but do they moan, groan, worry, stress every single time, all the time and vocalise that stress! I don't think so. My daughter was never like this although she did have her quirks and we have since realised that she may be slightly Aspi herself; she freely admits to being a bit more than just a little OCD. But I went out for days with her just as I do Callum and I never remember her being quite so emotionally/mentally demanding.
I'm not after sympathy! I don't want people to think "how awful". Callum is brilliant and I love him. I don't want him changed in any way. But what I do want is people to realise that having an Asperger/Autistic child is not always easy. It demands a lot of extra committment, patience, planning, organisation (and yes that is different from planning) and emotional awareness than normal. This can be very tiring, it can mean that a day out turns into a blur because you always have to be two steps ahead. And remember, this is the invisible disability! It isn't obvious to an outsider.
What I'm trying to say is that I, too, worry about journeys - will it get there on time? I hate waiting around in queues, especially when it's raining. I don't particularly like rush hour, but I can cope with it. I didn't know where anything was when I got there, but that was ok, I'd find out. I don't like crowds, especially with a child in tow, as I worry about getting separated. AND, obviously, I'm worried about most things if I have Callum with me as I'm trying to make it easier for him and that can mean having to do things that I'm not particularly comfortable with doing myself. Ie, asking totally random people to do something or another because of Callum or asking for extra help. I'm sure we all feel like this, but we cope! Callum, however, doesn't, so I have to cope for him.
I feel like I'm losing the thread a bit here and I'm off on a ramble, which I probably am, so perhaps I should stop. Like I said, I don't want sympathy. I want understanding. I want things to be put in place that makes my life and my child's life easier. On the whole that happens. On the whole everyone that I've had dealings with has been helpful and brilliant if I'm honest. I do get the odd stare from people and I do know there are a few people that do not understand why I should be entitled to extra money because of Callum or that we can get special offers because of his disability. But to those I say "come and spend a day out in my shoes". See Callum's reactions to things; see how much effort has to go into it and see how something so simple can make the difference between a happy and intergrated child and an angry, violent, miserable child who doesn't understand the world around him.
There, I'm done!
Cya
Time to write this one now. I'm not going to go into all the Halloween stuff again, you can read that on my other blog: http://sajasper.blogspot.com/
I'm not going to go into Top Gear Live either as you can read about that there too! Well, from Callum's point of view and mine from the point of view of upgrading tickets.
So what am I going to write about? Actually, I'm not entirely sure! But I was determined to write something, so here goes.
I have noticed that my two blogs are sort of merging together on occasions. It's really difficult to write about an event that includes Callum without it having reference to his Asperger Syndrome, so I do feel that it should be written about on his page. However, they are events that I've attended too and I have my own views on them, but I don't want to bore everyone (especially those that read both blogs) by writing about them twice.
So, here's the dilema, what do I write about? Reading back the blogs, it does sound like my whole life revolves around Callum and in a way it does, but I do have a life of my own as well. And that life also contains apprehension, boredom and frustration about trips/events just as Callum's does, but I have to push those feelings to one side in order to deal with Callum first and foremost. I'm sure most parents feel like this, but on speaking to other parents with ASD children it does seem to be a particular common subject.
Take, for instance, the Top Gear trip. Callum was worried about going; he was worried about being on the train (apparently he is bored with trains now); he was worried about the underground - too many people, too noisy, worried about getting on and off; he was worried about the queue of people at Earls Court. It was raining and he was stressing about that too especially as he'd insisted on wearing his crocs and they had a hole in the bottom so his foot was wet. He was bored! The queue moved quickly once moving, but they were letting in small groups at a time so it was very stop, start, stop, start. This made him grumpy and frustrated. When we got inside, he was concerned about where everything was. We headed straight to the Gold Enclosure so we could get a bit of down time and that stressed him as it had a long escalator to go on to get to it. He stressed about queuing to go into the show; he stressed about coming out of the show. He wanted to go to the Paddock, but once inside, he wanted to get out. He loved the show! He loved the cars outside! But even then he stressed about getting his photos on his DSi. He almost didn't get his photo taken in the Peelp50 because he was nervous about the girls and the cameraman. He wouldn't go on any of the simulators even though dad encouraged him to. He then got tired and wanted to go home (there and then!), so he stressed on the tube as it was now rush hour and packed. He stressed at the station as that too was packed. He ate his Burger King on the floor, but was fine. He then panicked about getting on the train and moaned constantly because everything was running late! He then moaned when we got off the train as he didn't want to walk home and then when we got home he moaned as he didn't want to go to bed when it was time! All of this was expressed out loud!
Now all this sounds like he had an awful day, but he didn't, as anyone who read my blog on his page knows. He loved the day!! Wants to go again! What I want to point out to everyone is that this is a typical GOOD day! And I have to deal with it. I'm almost so used to it now that it isn't until I look back and actually write it down that I realise just what I deal with each time - to me it is normal. Now I'm not saying that neuro typical children don't have moans and groans and don't get bored or frustrated, but do they moan, groan, worry, stress every single time, all the time and vocalise that stress! I don't think so. My daughter was never like this although she did have her quirks and we have since realised that she may be slightly Aspi herself; she freely admits to being a bit more than just a little OCD. But I went out for days with her just as I do Callum and I never remember her being quite so emotionally/mentally demanding.
I'm not after sympathy! I don't want people to think "how awful". Callum is brilliant and I love him. I don't want him changed in any way. But what I do want is people to realise that having an Asperger/Autistic child is not always easy. It demands a lot of extra committment, patience, planning, organisation (and yes that is different from planning) and emotional awareness than normal. This can be very tiring, it can mean that a day out turns into a blur because you always have to be two steps ahead. And remember, this is the invisible disability! It isn't obvious to an outsider.
What I'm trying to say is that I, too, worry about journeys - will it get there on time? I hate waiting around in queues, especially when it's raining. I don't particularly like rush hour, but I can cope with it. I didn't know where anything was when I got there, but that was ok, I'd find out. I don't like crowds, especially with a child in tow, as I worry about getting separated. AND, obviously, I'm worried about most things if I have Callum with me as I'm trying to make it easier for him and that can mean having to do things that I'm not particularly comfortable with doing myself. Ie, asking totally random people to do something or another because of Callum or asking for extra help. I'm sure we all feel like this, but we cope! Callum, however, doesn't, so I have to cope for him.
I feel like I'm losing the thread a bit here and I'm off on a ramble, which I probably am, so perhaps I should stop. Like I said, I don't want sympathy. I want understanding. I want things to be put in place that makes my life and my child's life easier. On the whole that happens. On the whole everyone that I've had dealings with has been helpful and brilliant if I'm honest. I do get the odd stare from people and I do know there are a few people that do not understand why I should be entitled to extra money because of Callum or that we can get special offers because of his disability. But to those I say "come and spend a day out in my shoes". See Callum's reactions to things; see how much effort has to go into it and see how something so simple can make the difference between a happy and intergrated child and an angry, violent, miserable child who doesn't understand the world around him.
There, I'm done!
Cya
Sunday 17 October 2010
HALLOWEEN IS COMING!!!
Ok, I've got to get this out of my system:
I LOVE HALLOWEEN!!!
There, I've said it! Yay!!
I don't quite know what it is about Halloween, but I've always loved it. Might have something to do with the fact that I've always been fascinated with the macarbe and I used to love ghost stories when I was a kid. And, as some of you may remember from a previous post, I do believe in ghosts and have one of my own (well several actually, but I've already written about that).
I come from a very religious family, so maybe it originates as a bit of a rebellion towards that as well, but I'm not entirely sure on that one.
I am also interested in herbal medicine and pagan beliefs, although I wouldn't actual class myself as one as I'm not disciplined enough. I've been called a witch quite a lot in my life too, but I don't think that's because they think I can do magic - haha.
I do know that Halloween or All Hallows Eve is the beginning of the Celtic New Year in the Old Religion. You could also say that there is a link to Harvest Festival as it's a time when crops were brought in, animals were also brought back from the fields and perishable foods were eaten before the long winter months ahead. It's also said to be a time to remember the past year and to remember those that have passed on, hence the storytelling.
I know that nowadays it's very commercialised (as are most festivals to be honest) and very Americanised too and most people seem to think that it's an American festival, but it isn't, it's been around for centuries.
I love it because it gives me a chance to indulge myself in silliness and be a bit creative. This year I'm doing pumpkins and skeletons as my theme. The aim is to have a church/funeral parlour front room (I'm going to dress up as a Victorian Funeral Director and Callum is going to be the Grim Reaper) which leads into the 'graveyard' which will be the dining room. I'm currently doing the decorations for the living room which will include a 'stained glass' window (tissue paper and card), a tapestry 'alter cloth' and lots of pumpkin candle holders, which I had to make as the candle holders I already had were ghosts! Nothing that a few old jam jars and some glass paint won't fix! Plus of course the pumpkins themselves (see above). Obviously they need to be carved, but that's a last minute job. Grew those ourselves by the way.
The dining room will be covered in black bin liners and I'm making a grey card mausoleum to cover my large unit. The table will be, hopefully, a grave with the chairs being tombstones and, of course, all the food will have a ghastly twist.
I've probably set myself a too huge a task, but this is the first year in this house that I can truely go over the top. The first year here, we'd only just moved in, so had nothing. I hated it! Only had sweets to give out and it was awful. You see I don't do sweets for trick or treaters; I do cupcakes! Usually something pretty gross looking like witches fingers (apple wedges sticking out with flaked almonds painted red for fingernails) or dead fly cakes (green cakes with green icing and sultana and flaked almond flies on top). However, this year I managed to get a gruesome cupcake book in the sale and am trying some of those out instead. Usually end up making about 48+ cakes and they normally all go! The second year here, last year, I was still hobbling around after breaking my leg, so again didn't really get much done. Although did manage the cakes and had a small party for Callum with a couple of his friends. But this year I'm going for it! Got two years to make up for, so kids had better watch out - haha!
I know Halloween isn't for everyone's tastes and I do know that there are people out there who don't like people knocking on their doors and that's fine. There are also kids out there who basically use it as a good excuse to cause havoc, which isn't so nice and what gives it it's bad reputation, but I love it and I'm going to enjoy it until someone tells me I can't!
Oh well, it's now past midnight (it's the witching hour - hehe) and I'm off to bed.
Cya
Friday 8 October 2010
I'M A COMPLETE WUSS
Hello all
Right, I'm coming out with it now, right now!! I'm a wuss. Yep, I'm a huge wuss! Those that know me probably won't believe me, but I am and it's about time I confessed.
I am petrified of....SPIDERS! Actually, I don't like other things either, but my biggest, most terrifying thing in the whole wide world is SPIDERS! Sorry, shouldn't keep using capital letters in the middle of a sentence, or at the end of one for that matter, but it's the only way I can convey my complete and utter dread/fear/loathing of them. SPIDERS! Even the name makes me shudder. Brrrrr!
I've never liked them, ever, and I've had a couple of close calls with them. I remember distinctly waking in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep. I was probably about 8 or 9 at the time. I got up to get a book to read and when I turned round there was this monster crawling across my pillow. Needless to say I screamed, but by the time my dad got there, it had disappeared. I didn't sleep in the bed for the rest of the night, in fact, I didn't sleep in the bedroom!
Then there was the time I put on my school blazer and thought I saw a thread hanging from the elbow. I promptly got hold of it to pull it off and pulled away a bloody great brown thing instead. Aaaaargh!!!! Had to sit down for quite a while after that one.
Then there was the huge Godzilla of a spider that was in my bedroom (the larger back bedroom by this time) when I had my boyfriend over. He stamped on it several times, but the thing still kept crawling across the floor. Aaaaargh again!
Another occasion, I'd left home by then and was living with my daughter's father, I was laying in bed and could hear this tapping noise. It was like someone lightly drumming their fingers on paper. "What the hell is that?" I ask. "What?" says Dave. Tap, tap, tap. "THAT!!??" says I, getting a bit freaked. On goes the light, "Aaaaaaargh!" goes I. Ruddy great thing crawling on the wall above the bed! Sure it was wearing Dr Martins.
And so it goes on. I've had to learn to deal with them over time; starting with the little ones and working my way up. But, why oh why did the powers that be suddenly decide to stop increasing the size of the dreaded arachnids gradually at about 2p size and suddenly jump to the gargantuan, not quite fit under a beer glass, size!!! I can't make that jump, it's too huge! So, I can deal with littlies, but I cannot deal with the ones that come out about this time of year looking for mates. You know the ones, big, black, hairy ones. The ones wearing hobnail boots, biker jackets and riding Harleys (might as well be, the speed they run)! I know they are looking for the loves of their lives and I should be looking at them in a romantic, love lost, way, but I'm sorry, I don't! I look at them as a load of testosterone fuelled hoodies with ASBOs looking for fight and a cheap one night stand!
I've had five in my house this year. Yes! FIVE! And they are always there when I'm by myself! I had one in the kitchen sink when I came downstairs in the morning. I hadn't even had a cup of tea!! It was massive! No way was that fitting under a glass (not that I can get that close to them anyway). I had to go outside and drag someone in off the street! Yes, I really did! A delivery van had just pulled up and I squeakily asked if they would mind rescuing "A Damsel in Distress". "Depends on what it is!" One retorted. "Actually it's a spider and I hate them." I reply. "Ok, but I don't really like them myself." In he came. "Where is it?" He asks. "In the sink" I reply. He walks into my kitchen, sticks his head over the sink and goes "F.... me, that's big!". "Yep" I reply "It certainly is". He got rid of it for me though, bless!
Then I had one in the utility room, crawling up above the coats! "Philllllllllllll......" I scream. "What!?" he screams down (he'd gone to bed. "SPIDER!!!!!!!!" I scream back. Down he comes, spider dead. All is well.
Two nights later, I'm sitting here at the computer and one runs up the back of the computer on the wall. Huge. "Phillllllll....." I scream. "What?!" He's gone to bed again. "SPIDER!!!" "Oh, for God's sake!" Down he comes, spider dead, all is well again.
Then nothing! Two weeks of nothing. Yay, all done, no more. Yes, the lovesick ones have gone home.
But NO! Last week, I'm sitting watching the telly and I catch movement in the corner of my eye. Bloody great black thing running the 100yrd sprint across my living room floor! Aaargh! Can't call Phil as I'd lose it under the sofa and then I'd have to move out - seriously I would! So up I get and stamp, rather bravely I thought, on the dreaded thing. I squish my foot a bit, lift up my toes and the damn thing starts running again, on 6 legs! Jesus Christ! Stamp again, further squishing, heart about to break out of my ribcage, but it is dead! I can't bring myself to pick up the dead body as I'm shaking, feel sick and my heart really does feel like it's about to burst out of my chest. I cover it with tissue paper, so I don't have to look at it and watch tv for another hour so I can calm down. I then gingerly pick up the tissue paper with dead body and dispose of it. All is again well in the house.
Then, two days later both myself and Phil are watching telly, Callum is on computer and we suddenly hear "Daaaaaaad". "What?!" "Spider! Big one". Callum has been typing away on his game and needed to use the calculator that is propped up on it's side against the printer which is about a foot away from the keyboard. He's moved the calculator and there's a ruddy great spider just sitting there on the desk! Glad it wasn't me sitting there. I think the keyboard, printer, desk and everything else in the known vicinity would have gone flying!
It's been about a week now and no more! Am really hoping that we have seen the last for another year. I know that there are those of you out there who are reading this and thinking "poor spider" or "it's more scared of you than you are of it", but let me ask you this: "How the hell do you know, have you asked one?" Spiders never run away from me, always towards me. They are supposed to eat flies, but I've still got loads of those in my kitchen every day so they aren't doing a good job! So far, I've not seen any reason for them to live running around in my house and I certainly don't want to sit down with one and discuss the latest goings on in Strictly Come Dancing, so sorry, they die. Live IN my walls by all means; live IN my garden, I don't mind; but stay out of my view! You scare the pants of me and you will probably be the death of me one day by giving me a heart attack.
Actually, I've already broken my foot over one! Yes, really! Forgot to mention that monster. I was living on my own then with my daughter. Had just had a far too hot bath and was laying on my bed cooling off, whilst wrapped in a towel when I spotted this monster on my bedroom curtain! Sat up, swung legs over edge of bed to stand up (keeping my eyes on the dreaded spider in case I lost it) and stood up wrong, twisted my ankle and landed full weight on the side of my foot. "Aaaargh" Screamed I, ankle swells to size of football, ambulance called, broken foot, everyone at A&E having a good laugh and spider escapes! Some would say, the arachnid got it's own back for all it's brothers and sisters deaths and maybe it did, but it didn't help my fear or my vengence.
Hmmm, just thought of something else. I broke my leg whilst wrapped in a towel! Perhaps I should get a dressing gown!
Cya
Right, I'm coming out with it now, right now!! I'm a wuss. Yep, I'm a huge wuss! Those that know me probably won't believe me, but I am and it's about time I confessed.
I am petrified of....SPIDERS! Actually, I don't like other things either, but my biggest, most terrifying thing in the whole wide world is SPIDERS! Sorry, shouldn't keep using capital letters in the middle of a sentence, or at the end of one for that matter, but it's the only way I can convey my complete and utter dread/fear/loathing of them. SPIDERS! Even the name makes me shudder. Brrrrr!
I've never liked them, ever, and I've had a couple of close calls with them. I remember distinctly waking in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep. I was probably about 8 or 9 at the time. I got up to get a book to read and when I turned round there was this monster crawling across my pillow. Needless to say I screamed, but by the time my dad got there, it had disappeared. I didn't sleep in the bed for the rest of the night, in fact, I didn't sleep in the bedroom!
Then there was the time I put on my school blazer and thought I saw a thread hanging from the elbow. I promptly got hold of it to pull it off and pulled away a bloody great brown thing instead. Aaaaargh!!!! Had to sit down for quite a while after that one.
Then there was the huge Godzilla of a spider that was in my bedroom (the larger back bedroom by this time) when I had my boyfriend over. He stamped on it several times, but the thing still kept crawling across the floor. Aaaaargh again!
Another occasion, I'd left home by then and was living with my daughter's father, I was laying in bed and could hear this tapping noise. It was like someone lightly drumming their fingers on paper. "What the hell is that?" I ask. "What?" says Dave. Tap, tap, tap. "THAT!!??" says I, getting a bit freaked. On goes the light, "Aaaaaaargh!" goes I. Ruddy great thing crawling on the wall above the bed! Sure it was wearing Dr Martins.
And so it goes on. I've had to learn to deal with them over time; starting with the little ones and working my way up. But, why oh why did the powers that be suddenly decide to stop increasing the size of the dreaded arachnids gradually at about 2p size and suddenly jump to the gargantuan, not quite fit under a beer glass, size!!! I can't make that jump, it's too huge! So, I can deal with littlies, but I cannot deal with the ones that come out about this time of year looking for mates. You know the ones, big, black, hairy ones. The ones wearing hobnail boots, biker jackets and riding Harleys (might as well be, the speed they run)! I know they are looking for the loves of their lives and I should be looking at them in a romantic, love lost, way, but I'm sorry, I don't! I look at them as a load of testosterone fuelled hoodies with ASBOs looking for fight and a cheap one night stand!
I've had five in my house this year. Yes! FIVE! And they are always there when I'm by myself! I had one in the kitchen sink when I came downstairs in the morning. I hadn't even had a cup of tea!! It was massive! No way was that fitting under a glass (not that I can get that close to them anyway). I had to go outside and drag someone in off the street! Yes, I really did! A delivery van had just pulled up and I squeakily asked if they would mind rescuing "A Damsel in Distress". "Depends on what it is!" One retorted. "Actually it's a spider and I hate them." I reply. "Ok, but I don't really like them myself." In he came. "Where is it?" He asks. "In the sink" I reply. He walks into my kitchen, sticks his head over the sink and goes "F.... me, that's big!". "Yep" I reply "It certainly is". He got rid of it for me though, bless!
Then I had one in the utility room, crawling up above the coats! "Philllllllllllll......" I scream. "What!?" he screams down (he'd gone to bed. "SPIDER!!!!!!!!" I scream back. Down he comes, spider dead. All is well.
Two nights later, I'm sitting here at the computer and one runs up the back of the computer on the wall. Huge. "Phillllllll....." I scream. "What?!" He's gone to bed again. "SPIDER!!!" "Oh, for God's sake!" Down he comes, spider dead, all is well again.
Then nothing! Two weeks of nothing. Yay, all done, no more. Yes, the lovesick ones have gone home.
But NO! Last week, I'm sitting watching the telly and I catch movement in the corner of my eye. Bloody great black thing running the 100yrd sprint across my living room floor! Aaargh! Can't call Phil as I'd lose it under the sofa and then I'd have to move out - seriously I would! So up I get and stamp, rather bravely I thought, on the dreaded thing. I squish my foot a bit, lift up my toes and the damn thing starts running again, on 6 legs! Jesus Christ! Stamp again, further squishing, heart about to break out of my ribcage, but it is dead! I can't bring myself to pick up the dead body as I'm shaking, feel sick and my heart really does feel like it's about to burst out of my chest. I cover it with tissue paper, so I don't have to look at it and watch tv for another hour so I can calm down. I then gingerly pick up the tissue paper with dead body and dispose of it. All is again well in the house.
Then, two days later both myself and Phil are watching telly, Callum is on computer and we suddenly hear "Daaaaaaad". "What?!" "Spider! Big one". Callum has been typing away on his game and needed to use the calculator that is propped up on it's side against the printer which is about a foot away from the keyboard. He's moved the calculator and there's a ruddy great spider just sitting there on the desk! Glad it wasn't me sitting there. I think the keyboard, printer, desk and everything else in the known vicinity would have gone flying!
It's been about a week now and no more! Am really hoping that we have seen the last for another year. I know that there are those of you out there who are reading this and thinking "poor spider" or "it's more scared of you than you are of it", but let me ask you this: "How the hell do you know, have you asked one?" Spiders never run away from me, always towards me. They are supposed to eat flies, but I've still got loads of those in my kitchen every day so they aren't doing a good job! So far, I've not seen any reason for them to live running around in my house and I certainly don't want to sit down with one and discuss the latest goings on in Strictly Come Dancing, so sorry, they die. Live IN my walls by all means; live IN my garden, I don't mind; but stay out of my view! You scare the pants of me and you will probably be the death of me one day by giving me a heart attack.
Actually, I've already broken my foot over one! Yes, really! Forgot to mention that monster. I was living on my own then with my daughter. Had just had a far too hot bath and was laying on my bed cooling off, whilst wrapped in a towel when I spotted this monster on my bedroom curtain! Sat up, swung legs over edge of bed to stand up (keeping my eyes on the dreaded spider in case I lost it) and stood up wrong, twisted my ankle and landed full weight on the side of my foot. "Aaaargh" Screamed I, ankle swells to size of football, ambulance called, broken foot, everyone at A&E having a good laugh and spider escapes! Some would say, the arachnid got it's own back for all it's brothers and sisters deaths and maybe it did, but it didn't help my fear or my vengence.
Hmmm, just thought of something else. I broke my leg whilst wrapped in a towel! Perhaps I should get a dressing gown!
Cya
Wednesday 1 September 2010
WEIRDNESS!
Hmmm! Not sure if it's a phase or whether it's because I've been feeling a bit crap, but I have been having the weirdest of dreams this past week!!
Now, I'm not into dreams meaning something, but I do think it's the brain's way of filing away information and sorting out the rubbish from the important (the rubbish coming out in the dreams). Normally after a particularly odd one, I can relate people, places, incidents with recent real people, places, incidents even if they are a bit 'off', but the one's I've been having this week have completely thrown me!!
I've had a least two this past week which have concerned clones, my daughter, shoes and David Tennant!! Strange combination unless you see a Dr Who connection which is entirely plausible. Although I haven't been watching Dr Who recently and DT hasn't played him for a while, but it does seem that my brain has dragged something up from the dark recesses. The first one I had started with myself and Terri (my daughter) walking down to the Strand (our local beach area) and I kept seeing buildings that weren't supposed to be there (a pub, tattoo shop and a cafe) and strange people who all looked the same. Mr T then turned up out of the blue and told us to run (in the best Dr Who fashion), but Terri wouldn't as she was in heels and her flip flops, which were in her bag, didn't match her outfit (sorry Terri, wonder where that comes from - hehe). We ran into a cafe and sat drinking tea(!?!) while Mr T decided what we should do! End of dream one!
A couple of nights later, I had pretty much the same dream, although we were now in a shopping centre! All the shops were staffed by these clones and, again, Mr Tennant showed up and told us to run! This time Terri was already in flip flops so we ran down this corridor and outside, but we ended up on top of the building!!!?? Now I hate heights so this wasn't entirely a pleasant experience! Mr T was telling us to jump onto the other roof (I think that bit may have come from a book I'm reading), but I wouldn't do it! Terri and Mr T did and kept yelling at me to join them, but I still refused! So they jumped back and we ended up in a car which happened to be there and drove down and out of the building (the roof suddenly becoming a roof top car park! End of dream two!
Why my son wasn't in these dreams I've no idea and why we didn't get straight into the car in the second one seems a bit odd. I've gone over these two dreams but the only link I've got to real world is the roof jump reference in the book. Everything else seems totally random!
I had one last night with Sarah Jessica Parker in it!!!! It involved shoes (again) being stuck in sands (possible beach day yesterday, although no shoes involved). There were strange people in adjoining houses and they all wanted to get to these shoes and we (SJP and myself) had to stop them!!! There was flooding (possible recent news items) and lots of slimy plants (again I think that's from the book I'm reading), but it was all really weird!
I've had a couple of other similar type dreams; short, random and supernatural. Most have contained one of my children, but never both and none of them have made any sense whatsoever! None have been particularly scary; I haven't woken up feeling like I've had a nightmare, but I have felt a little unsettled!
I admit that I've been feeling very tired and run down this week and maybe that's why I've been having them. Any ideas on what clones represent or why shoes seemed to be a prominent feature (I can't remember any other item of clothing) would be gratefully received!
With regard to anything else this week, P did not go and sort out rubbish, but haven't had any dogs appearing at fence so that's good. I've been told that P will buy me a laptop when his inheritance comes through (his aunt died recently and the estate is being sorted), although I think I'd rather he spent any monies due on finishing up some of the house! And an old work colleague has been in touch (after almost 11yrs) and we've got together and had lunch, which is a good thing!
So a good, quiet week, but with very strange dreams!! Hmm, weird!!!
Now, I'm not into dreams meaning something, but I do think it's the brain's way of filing away information and sorting out the rubbish from the important (the rubbish coming out in the dreams). Normally after a particularly odd one, I can relate people, places, incidents with recent real people, places, incidents even if they are a bit 'off', but the one's I've been having this week have completely thrown me!!
I've had a least two this past week which have concerned clones, my daughter, shoes and David Tennant!! Strange combination unless you see a Dr Who connection which is entirely plausible. Although I haven't been watching Dr Who recently and DT hasn't played him for a while, but it does seem that my brain has dragged something up from the dark recesses. The first one I had started with myself and Terri (my daughter) walking down to the Strand (our local beach area) and I kept seeing buildings that weren't supposed to be there (a pub, tattoo shop and a cafe) and strange people who all looked the same. Mr T then turned up out of the blue and told us to run (in the best Dr Who fashion), but Terri wouldn't as she was in heels and her flip flops, which were in her bag, didn't match her outfit (sorry Terri, wonder where that comes from - hehe). We ran into a cafe and sat drinking tea(!?!) while Mr T decided what we should do! End of dream one!
A couple of nights later, I had pretty much the same dream, although we were now in a shopping centre! All the shops were staffed by these clones and, again, Mr Tennant showed up and told us to run! This time Terri was already in flip flops so we ran down this corridor and outside, but we ended up on top of the building!!!?? Now I hate heights so this wasn't entirely a pleasant experience! Mr T was telling us to jump onto the other roof (I think that bit may have come from a book I'm reading), but I wouldn't do it! Terri and Mr T did and kept yelling at me to join them, but I still refused! So they jumped back and we ended up in a car which happened to be there and drove down and out of the building (the roof suddenly becoming a roof top car park! End of dream two!
Why my son wasn't in these dreams I've no idea and why we didn't get straight into the car in the second one seems a bit odd. I've gone over these two dreams but the only link I've got to real world is the roof jump reference in the book. Everything else seems totally random!
I had one last night with Sarah Jessica Parker in it!!!! It involved shoes (again) being stuck in sands (possible beach day yesterday, although no shoes involved). There were strange people in adjoining houses and they all wanted to get to these shoes and we (SJP and myself) had to stop them!!! There was flooding (possible recent news items) and lots of slimy plants (again I think that's from the book I'm reading), but it was all really weird!
I've had a couple of other similar type dreams; short, random and supernatural. Most have contained one of my children, but never both and none of them have made any sense whatsoever! None have been particularly scary; I haven't woken up feeling like I've had a nightmare, but I have felt a little unsettled!
I admit that I've been feeling very tired and run down this week and maybe that's why I've been having them. Any ideas on what clones represent or why shoes seemed to be a prominent feature (I can't remember any other item of clothing) would be gratefully received!
With regard to anything else this week, P did not go and sort out rubbish, but haven't had any dogs appearing at fence so that's good. I've been told that P will buy me a laptop when his inheritance comes through (his aunt died recently and the estate is being sorted), although I think I'd rather he spent any monies due on finishing up some of the house! And an old work colleague has been in touch (after almost 11yrs) and we've got together and had lunch, which is a good thing!
So a good, quiet week, but with very strange dreams!! Hmm, weird!!!
Friday 20 August 2010
OMG! How long has it been since writing on here!! And I was doing so well too. Oh well, life does often get in the way doesn't it?
How am I? Ok, I think!
Had more problems with neighbour's dog recently so called in the local Council AGAIN!!! Got a new warden so had to explain everything all over again. However, he did arrive with a mate so two for the price of one. Isn't that a BOGOF deal? Well, I wish my neighbours would bog off!!! Anyway, they went round and 'had a word' and miracles of miracles the guy has removed the rubbish from up against the fence, so theoretically dogs/kids can no longer climb up and over my 6.5ft fence! Partner is, so he says, going to go round over weekend and offer to help remove the rubbish completely! I have visions of the kids pulling it all back so that they can climb up again, but trying to think positive. We've offered before, but nothing came of it. Hopefully this time he'll be a bit more insistent and Callum can start to enjoy the garden again!
What else? Well, bedroom ceiling had to be pulled down before it fell down!!! So house is basically covered in dust and now every room apart from Callum's is in a half state! Either there are bits missing in ceilings or it's chunks out of walls. Will be nice when finally finished, but I'm beginning to feel like that is never going to happen! Phil, my partner, has said that he will take a week off in September and get our bedroom finished completely!! Would be nice! Will be able to finally unpack my books and dragons after nearly two years of living here and have a nice room to chill out and sleep in! Only another 5 rooms to do after that! Eeek!
As to my state of mind. I'm going from manically depressed about house/dog/garden to 'wild thing' about the same! I'm trying to read about 6 books all at once, which probably isn't a good idea!?! And I suddenly remembered that I started knitting Callum a jumper months ago! As I'm such a slow knitter I better get on with it otherwise it'll be finished and he will have grown out of it!
Have decided also that I need a laptop! Callum has been in computer mode again, so getting on here is pretty rare and when I do it's normally a bit late, so I check my mail and FB and leave it (another reason blog isn't being done). Trying to write is quite hard when you're shattered and the computer chair is knackered, so I end up with back ache after any length of time. I really really want to write and not just my blogs. I've got about 3 stories on the go at the moment and really want to finish one of them and have a go at publishing it. But by the time it gets to about 10pm and I'm finally able to sit down at computer, I really don't feel like doing it. So laptop required! That way, when C is playing on computer I can sit in a comfy chair and tap away quite happily.
I can even do it in early evening while the rest of them are watching telly. Why don't I go on computer then I hear you ask? Well I have a strange obsession about not letting anyone read what I write until it's finished. Even these blogs (which are completely public) I don't like letting anyone read until done. So the fact that my computer is in the corner of a room that everyone has to walk through to get to the kitchen and screen is in full view makes me paranoid! Silly I know, but I hate the thought that they can look over my shoulder and read what I'm typing. So laptop is going to have to be the answer!! (I'm typing now because my son is upstairs playing with his best mate, so won't see them for ages, and my partner is at work!)
On the rest of the life front I'm still currently obsessed with you know who - haha! Hopefully now the series has finished I can wean myself off and find someone else - I'm such a fickle thing you know! However, I am (or rather we are) going to Earl's Court to see Top Gear Live in November (early xmas treat), so probably be a while. Plus I'm still tired, grumpy, getting older, home educating, knitting, reading, cooking, gardening, meeting new and wonderful people, seeing current and fab friends and generally enjoying myself. So it isn't all bad!
Cya
How am I? Ok, I think!
Had more problems with neighbour's dog recently so called in the local Council AGAIN!!! Got a new warden so had to explain everything all over again. However, he did arrive with a mate so two for the price of one. Isn't that a BOGOF deal? Well, I wish my neighbours would bog off!!! Anyway, they went round and 'had a word' and miracles of miracles the guy has removed the rubbish from up against the fence, so theoretically dogs/kids can no longer climb up and over my 6.5ft fence! Partner is, so he says, going to go round over weekend and offer to help remove the rubbish completely! I have visions of the kids pulling it all back so that they can climb up again, but trying to think positive. We've offered before, but nothing came of it. Hopefully this time he'll be a bit more insistent and Callum can start to enjoy the garden again!
What else? Well, bedroom ceiling had to be pulled down before it fell down!!! So house is basically covered in dust and now every room apart from Callum's is in a half state! Either there are bits missing in ceilings or it's chunks out of walls. Will be nice when finally finished, but I'm beginning to feel like that is never going to happen! Phil, my partner, has said that he will take a week off in September and get our bedroom finished completely!! Would be nice! Will be able to finally unpack my books and dragons after nearly two years of living here and have a nice room to chill out and sleep in! Only another 5 rooms to do after that! Eeek!
As to my state of mind. I'm going from manically depressed about house/dog/garden to 'wild thing' about the same! I'm trying to read about 6 books all at once, which probably isn't a good idea!?! And I suddenly remembered that I started knitting Callum a jumper months ago! As I'm such a slow knitter I better get on with it otherwise it'll be finished and he will have grown out of it!
Have decided also that I need a laptop! Callum has been in computer mode again, so getting on here is pretty rare and when I do it's normally a bit late, so I check my mail and FB and leave it (another reason blog isn't being done). Trying to write is quite hard when you're shattered and the computer chair is knackered, so I end up with back ache after any length of time. I really really want to write and not just my blogs. I've got about 3 stories on the go at the moment and really want to finish one of them and have a go at publishing it. But by the time it gets to about 10pm and I'm finally able to sit down at computer, I really don't feel like doing it. So laptop required! That way, when C is playing on computer I can sit in a comfy chair and tap away quite happily.
I can even do it in early evening while the rest of them are watching telly. Why don't I go on computer then I hear you ask? Well I have a strange obsession about not letting anyone read what I write until it's finished. Even these blogs (which are completely public) I don't like letting anyone read until done. So the fact that my computer is in the corner of a room that everyone has to walk through to get to the kitchen and screen is in full view makes me paranoid! Silly I know, but I hate the thought that they can look over my shoulder and read what I'm typing. So laptop is going to have to be the answer!! (I'm typing now because my son is upstairs playing with his best mate, so won't see them for ages, and my partner is at work!)
On the rest of the life front I'm still currently obsessed with you know who - haha! Hopefully now the series has finished I can wean myself off and find someone else - I'm such a fickle thing you know! However, I am (or rather we are) going to Earl's Court to see Top Gear Live in November (early xmas treat), so probably be a while. Plus I'm still tired, grumpy, getting older, home educating, knitting, reading, cooking, gardening, meeting new and wonderful people, seeing current and fab friends and generally enjoying myself. So it isn't all bad!
Cya
Monday 26 July 2010
MUST SHARE! VERY SAD (OF ME!)
I had a lazy morning and an afternoon free today! Yep, all on my lonesome I was as Callum on computer and then to his friend's house this afternoon! I had some paperwork to do, but couldn't really be bothered so decided to chill out in front of telly.
Guess what I watched? Yep, you're right, reruns of Top Gear on Dave!! It's very sad isn't it especially as I don't even drive!! Oh well, never mind!
Did get paperwork done in the end, but wasn't as much fun as watching Jeremy et al racing around in rather beautiful cars. Really must sort out this obsession with Mr Clarkson, it really isn't healthy - haha!
See ya
Guess what I watched? Yep, you're right, reruns of Top Gear on Dave!! It's very sad isn't it especially as I don't even drive!! Oh well, never mind!
Did get paperwork done in the end, but wasn't as much fun as watching Jeremy et al racing around in rather beautiful cars. Really must sort out this obsession with Mr Clarkson, it really isn't healthy - haha!
See ya
Sunday 25 July 2010
SUNDAY AFTERNOON BLISS OR AM I JUST A BIGOT
Am (or was by the time I type this) sitting in the garden, glass of coke on table, book in hand, beautiful sunshine, with house in King Street (not the one with the annoying dog) having what sounds like a party, although vocally it's pretty quiet. Musically it's loud, but guess what, I don't care!! Why? Because the music being played loud is some rather excellent R&B! There is no boy band mush or european trashy disco, just good thumping R&B with a coating of Rap thrown in and a smattering of Reggae!! It's bliss!!
I'm not saying that I'd like to live directly next door to the house as I can imagine that your cups and saucers would be dancing away rather nicely on their shelves as the bass is throbbing rather deeply, but here in my garden almost opposite it's pleasant; actually it's bloody brilliant! Not sure if I'll still be thinking that later on, but for now, it's ok by me!
So why have I written about this? Well it's made me realise what a completely intolerant, bigoted piece of work I really am. I should get me wrists thoroughly slapped for it to be honest and I can think of a few people who would be happy to do so and some others that I wouldn't mind doing it, but that's another story!
You see because the music is something I like, I'm tolerating it, actually thoroughly enjoying it, as I've already said! But, if it was any of the aforementioned stuff I'd be going balistic, running around shouting and ranting and probably calling the Police because of the disturbance to the peace (and I may still do that if it goes on late), but I'm not! I must point out that the music started at 11.30am and at the time of initially writing this it was 2.20pm (yes I write on old fashioned paper too, as my son is on computer and I don't own a laptop!!). So I have to embarrassingly admit that I'm an awful person! If it suits me, it's fine; if it doesn't then it's not!! Very two faced of me isn't it? But then I am a Gemini!
So I'm now asking myself whether I should be more tolerant of people? Should I respect their tastes in music and choices of lifestyle? Should I just accept that there are some people who like living in shit with snotty kids, barking dogs and terrible taste? The answer is "Yes I should", but guess what, I can't and I won't! Yes I can accept that we are not all the same. I can accept that some people like certain music, films, books, etc that I can't stand and that's fine as long as they don't try and shove it down my throat, but that's where the loud music, etc comes in. You see I think that if you are going to play your music loud (and that does include me) then you should accept that there will be people who won't like it and ask you to turn it down. You have to accept (me included) that in those circumstances you are shoving your tastes/views down other people's throats and that is the bit that is unacceptable!
I'm the same when it comes to religious beliefs too. You can be whatever faith you like; I will accept all of them; just don't try and convert me into them as I have my own beliefs and those are the ones I'm sticking with! Try ramming them down my throat and you will be out of the door quicker than the fly I've just swatted which was getting to near to the glass of coke!
So am I intolerant or not? Am I just a believer that you can have your own views, but keep them to yourself? Well, obviously the latter isn't true otherwise I wouldn't rant on about things on here would I? So, once again, am I intolerant? I think it varies and the variants are as varied as the pick and mix counter in the now defunct Woolworths store. My tolerance will depend on mood; it will depend on weather; it will depend on subject and it will bloody well depend on whether it's music I like or music I don't - sorry, but there it is! So, in conclusion; I'm a part-time bigot, but only when it suits me!
PS: The music didn't go on until late so I didn't have to call the Police. My neighbours with the dog never surfaced today so peace on the barking front was in force. And I finally got to the computer at 10pm! Will definitely have to invest in a laptop!
I'm not saying that I'd like to live directly next door to the house as I can imagine that your cups and saucers would be dancing away rather nicely on their shelves as the bass is throbbing rather deeply, but here in my garden almost opposite it's pleasant; actually it's bloody brilliant! Not sure if I'll still be thinking that later on, but for now, it's ok by me!
So why have I written about this? Well it's made me realise what a completely intolerant, bigoted piece of work I really am. I should get me wrists thoroughly slapped for it to be honest and I can think of a few people who would be happy to do so and some others that I wouldn't mind doing it, but that's another story!
You see because the music is something I like, I'm tolerating it, actually thoroughly enjoying it, as I've already said! But, if it was any of the aforementioned stuff I'd be going balistic, running around shouting and ranting and probably calling the Police because of the disturbance to the peace (and I may still do that if it goes on late), but I'm not! I must point out that the music started at 11.30am and at the time of initially writing this it was 2.20pm (yes I write on old fashioned paper too, as my son is on computer and I don't own a laptop!!). So I have to embarrassingly admit that I'm an awful person! If it suits me, it's fine; if it doesn't then it's not!! Very two faced of me isn't it? But then I am a Gemini!
So I'm now asking myself whether I should be more tolerant of people? Should I respect their tastes in music and choices of lifestyle? Should I just accept that there are some people who like living in shit with snotty kids, barking dogs and terrible taste? The answer is "Yes I should", but guess what, I can't and I won't! Yes I can accept that we are not all the same. I can accept that some people like certain music, films, books, etc that I can't stand and that's fine as long as they don't try and shove it down my throat, but that's where the loud music, etc comes in. You see I think that if you are going to play your music loud (and that does include me) then you should accept that there will be people who won't like it and ask you to turn it down. You have to accept (me included) that in those circumstances you are shoving your tastes/views down other people's throats and that is the bit that is unacceptable!
I'm the same when it comes to religious beliefs too. You can be whatever faith you like; I will accept all of them; just don't try and convert me into them as I have my own beliefs and those are the ones I'm sticking with! Try ramming them down my throat and you will be out of the door quicker than the fly I've just swatted which was getting to near to the glass of coke!
So am I intolerant or not? Am I just a believer that you can have your own views, but keep them to yourself? Well, obviously the latter isn't true otherwise I wouldn't rant on about things on here would I? So, once again, am I intolerant? I think it varies and the variants are as varied as the pick and mix counter in the now defunct Woolworths store. My tolerance will depend on mood; it will depend on weather; it will depend on subject and it will bloody well depend on whether it's music I like or music I don't - sorry, but there it is! So, in conclusion; I'm a part-time bigot, but only when it suits me!
PS: The music didn't go on until late so I didn't have to call the Police. My neighbours with the dog never surfaced today so peace on the barking front was in force. And I finally got to the computer at 10pm! Will definitely have to invest in a laptop!
Wednesday 21 July 2010
MID LIFE CRISIS (AGAIN) OR REMINISCING?
I’m officially going to say that I’m in mid life crisis – I think!
Why I hear you ask?
Well, I’ve started to get excited every time I get an email from Play.com or Amazon announcing sales!
Why I hear you ask again and what does that have to do with mid life crisis?
Give me chance folks; I’m getting there. I get excited because normally the sales include old stuff! Stuff that I remember! Stuff that brings back memories! And, as I left my complete record collection behind when leaving an ex boyfriend years ago….
Why?
….Because I had a limited time to leave and had to make a decision between my movie collection and my music collection! I chose my movies! Can I continue now??? Or are you asking why I left the boyfriend? That doesn’t really matter at the moment, so I’m going to continue on the thread I’m on…
I’m now without those wonderful tunes that whisk you back to moments in your life that you treasure; those memories, whether sad or happy, that remind you that you were once young! Those tunes that as soon as you hear them you can bring to mind in perfect clarity any event, place or person you wish! And I’m starting to do that often!! Too often!!
You see, I don’t drive, so I can’t go out and buy a flashy car (see a previous entry on this blog). I don’t have the money anyway even if I could drive. But I can splurge £2.99 on a CD or a movie (DVD having taken over from video since I made my rash but necessary decision all those years ago and I’m now trying to regain BOTH music and movies – hey ho). In fact, I recently splurged nearly £30 on CDs and DVDs, but at least it was quids not thousands.
I don’t usually listen, as some of you do, to continuous music. I’m not someone who has to have the radio on or the TV or a CD on as soon as I wake. I like a bit of peace and quiet and, having an Asperger son with me 24/7, quiet is normally a very rare thing anyway. But recently I’ve fancied a bit of a tune and I keep remembering songs I used to have and becoming incredibly upset if I don’t have it to hand.
Why am I getting so upset?
Actually, I’m not really sure, but I am.
I’m assuming that it’s because I’ve been feeling older recently. It came as a bit of a shock the other week when I realised that I was nearer to 50 than to 40. Reaching 40 was fine; actually I quite enjoyed it. It meant that I could finally not give a damn about what people thought of me (not that I really did anyway) and I didn’t have to pretend anymore (that, I did do, sorry), but 50! 50 sounds so old! 50 is definitely on the slidey slope down! I mean it doesn’t sound ancient, I know 50 year olds that don’t look or act it, but it’s definitely the fast track to 60 and then 70 and then, well then what? Both my parents died in their 70s so it’s not irrational to think that I will probably do the same, so, based on that, 50 is definitely the ‘not long left’ age!
Also having broken my leg last year and having complications ever since (nothing major, but enough to cause inconvenience and pain and the inability to run or even walk fast at the moment) I’ve started to look back to those days when I was young, able, fit and carefree and I want to listen to stuff that reminds me of ‘the good old days’!
To add to both those reasons above, I have a 22 year old daughter. That’s the age when my life was a ball (ages 20 – 25 being the best). I was out all the time; had a huge group of mates; experienced lots of things, most of which I can’t talk about on here; had highs; lows and generally enjoyed life (actually I enjoyed life between 17-28 pretty much continuously, but 20-25 was definitely the best. So hearing her talking about what she’s up to; seeing her spending her money on clothes, undies, etc brings back all those memories. I don’t begrudge her any of it, I’m the one that nagged her to do it earlier, but I have to admit it does make me reminisce a lot!
So am I just reminiscing or am I in crisis?
It’s a difficult question to answer! You see, apart from the above and being pretty happy with the way things are in my life (I haven’t got the energy for anything else at the moment, but I am one of those people who always thinks the grass is greener even when I know it isn’t), I’ve started to get thoughts about what it would be like to be on my own again. Being completely independent with no dependents if you follow me. Would I do ok as a single woman again. Would I be able to find work; have a decent social life; dare I say it – get another lover?
And this is when I start to wonder if it’s crisis. Does the reminiscing cause me to wonder or is it the wondering that causes the reminiscing? If I could remember which one came first it might help, but that’s like trying to work out which came first with the chicken or the egg, it’s impossible and to try would probably make my head explode!
So, due to the age thing, I’m going to say it’s mid life crisis! But feel free to argue!
xxx
Why I hear you ask?
Well, I’ve started to get excited every time I get an email from Play.com or Amazon announcing sales!
Why I hear you ask again and what does that have to do with mid life crisis?
Give me chance folks; I’m getting there. I get excited because normally the sales include old stuff! Stuff that I remember! Stuff that brings back memories! And, as I left my complete record collection behind when leaving an ex boyfriend years ago….
Why?
….Because I had a limited time to leave and had to make a decision between my movie collection and my music collection! I chose my movies! Can I continue now??? Or are you asking why I left the boyfriend? That doesn’t really matter at the moment, so I’m going to continue on the thread I’m on…
I’m now without those wonderful tunes that whisk you back to moments in your life that you treasure; those memories, whether sad or happy, that remind you that you were once young! Those tunes that as soon as you hear them you can bring to mind in perfect clarity any event, place or person you wish! And I’m starting to do that often!! Too often!!
You see, I don’t drive, so I can’t go out and buy a flashy car (see a previous entry on this blog). I don’t have the money anyway even if I could drive. But I can splurge £2.99 on a CD or a movie (DVD having taken over from video since I made my rash but necessary decision all those years ago and I’m now trying to regain BOTH music and movies – hey ho). In fact, I recently splurged nearly £30 on CDs and DVDs, but at least it was quids not thousands.
I don’t usually listen, as some of you do, to continuous music. I’m not someone who has to have the radio on or the TV or a CD on as soon as I wake. I like a bit of peace and quiet and, having an Asperger son with me 24/7, quiet is normally a very rare thing anyway. But recently I’ve fancied a bit of a tune and I keep remembering songs I used to have and becoming incredibly upset if I don’t have it to hand.
Why am I getting so upset?
Actually, I’m not really sure, but I am.
I’m assuming that it’s because I’ve been feeling older recently. It came as a bit of a shock the other week when I realised that I was nearer to 50 than to 40. Reaching 40 was fine; actually I quite enjoyed it. It meant that I could finally not give a damn about what people thought of me (not that I really did anyway) and I didn’t have to pretend anymore (that, I did do, sorry), but 50! 50 sounds so old! 50 is definitely on the slidey slope down! I mean it doesn’t sound ancient, I know 50 year olds that don’t look or act it, but it’s definitely the fast track to 60 and then 70 and then, well then what? Both my parents died in their 70s so it’s not irrational to think that I will probably do the same, so, based on that, 50 is definitely the ‘not long left’ age!
Also having broken my leg last year and having complications ever since (nothing major, but enough to cause inconvenience and pain and the inability to run or even walk fast at the moment) I’ve started to look back to those days when I was young, able, fit and carefree and I want to listen to stuff that reminds me of ‘the good old days’!
To add to both those reasons above, I have a 22 year old daughter. That’s the age when my life was a ball (ages 20 – 25 being the best). I was out all the time; had a huge group of mates; experienced lots of things, most of which I can’t talk about on here; had highs; lows and generally enjoyed life (actually I enjoyed life between 17-28 pretty much continuously, but 20-25 was definitely the best. So hearing her talking about what she’s up to; seeing her spending her money on clothes, undies, etc brings back all those memories. I don’t begrudge her any of it, I’m the one that nagged her to do it earlier, but I have to admit it does make me reminisce a lot!
So am I just reminiscing or am I in crisis?
It’s a difficult question to answer! You see, apart from the above and being pretty happy with the way things are in my life (I haven’t got the energy for anything else at the moment, but I am one of those people who always thinks the grass is greener even when I know it isn’t), I’ve started to get thoughts about what it would be like to be on my own again. Being completely independent with no dependents if you follow me. Would I do ok as a single woman again. Would I be able to find work; have a decent social life; dare I say it – get another lover?
And this is when I start to wonder if it’s crisis. Does the reminiscing cause me to wonder or is it the wondering that causes the reminiscing? If I could remember which one came first it might help, but that’s like trying to work out which came first with the chicken or the egg, it’s impossible and to try would probably make my head explode!
So, due to the age thing, I’m going to say it’s mid life crisis! But feel free to argue!
xxx
Wednesday 16 June 2010
AAAAH THAT'S BETTER
Hi all
Have chilled a bit this week, so hopefully no ranting!!!
Went away this past weekend to Great Yarmouth with partner and Callum as it was Callum's birthday and we took his friend (also a Callum) with us. Was great fun for the boys as they spent most of the time between the beach and the arcades. However, not so much fun for me as my beloved partner who is "not interested in football and I only want to watch the England match" spent most of the day in the caravan watching every bloody match that was showing!!! Grrrr!
Ooops, a rant, sorry!
What else has been on my mind? Well, I've had some strange conversations with people over the past couple of weeks, all unconnected, about paranormal activity! Which kind of brings me back to my first blog about my dad and the Drop Dead Fred video. Those of you of a nervous disposition should probably stop reading now - hehe. So here goes:
When I was young I lived in a two bedroomed Council house in Twydall. I had the smaller front bedroom to start with, but when I got older (probably about 8ish) I moved into the back bedroom which was a lot bigger. The door of the room had a very stiff handle which you had to push down and then push a bit more. A bit like the zoom on a digital camera; you zoom in as far as you can, wait a microsecond and then zoom in a bit more (well that's how mine works anyway). Needless to say the bedroom door had a knack to it and it was one of the reasons I was moved in there; I could do it, but my dad, who was in his 50s by then, was having trouble with it as did my mum. I loved that room! It was big enough for me to separate into two areas; bed area and seating area with my record player and my books!
Anyway I'm digressing, but it is pretty important to lay down the grounding to the story. My parents were both ex Sunday School teachers and mum was very religious. I was sent to Sunday School, but never felt 'right' going and I still feel uncomfortable in a church; but that's another blog. Because of mum's religious beliefs she did not under any circumstances believe in ghosts or anything supernatural. She believed you died and went to heaven or hell and that was it! So when I, at the tender age of 8ish, would come downstairs and announce that my bed rocked every night and that my door was always open in the morning she wouldn't have any of it. Her explanation was that I must have dreamt the bed rocking and the door being open must have been me going to the toilet in the night and not remembering. Hmmm! Every night mum?? Seems a bit excessive. And there was more. We started having sharp utensils such as carving knives, bread knives and scissors going missing and they would turn up buried in the garden a few weeks later. Mum's answer: the dog!! Now I know that dogs are intelligent and Rex our mongrel was pretty cool, but to only steal knives and scissors!? And never to cut his mouth!? That seemed a little far fetched to me! I was convinced we had a ghost! Not an unfriendly one, but a ghost nonetheless!!
This phenomenon went on until I left home at 18, the only changes were that knives stopped going missing, but every time I got upset light bulbs would blow all at once and sometimes electrical items would fuse! Now that makes it sound like I'd get in a temper or a wailing moment and the electrics would go, but it wasn't like that. I didn't cry much as a kid as mum was never sympathetic, so I learned to keep upset inside, but whenever it got bad within a few days something would go; either all the bulbs or the hoover would fuse or the telly. It got pretty weird actually, but I was ok with it.
As I've said I left home at 18 and moved in with my then boyfriend and things were good. No bed rocking, no missing implements, no blown bulbs! But, a couple of days after I'd left my mum rang me rather shakily and said "your bed rocks!" Der!!! Yeah!! I've been telling you that for nigh on 10years!! "I'm not sleeping in there, I'm going back on the sofa!"
Two weeks later I got another phone call from mum saying that she'd slept on the sofa for a couple of days and then went back to the bed. She said that the rocking had continued, but that it wasn't unpleasant, but that it had now stopped! She thought she'd let me know! The very next day every light bulb in my house blew and the hoover stopped working! On opening up the plug, all the wires had been pulled out! The kettle then went and exactly the same thing had happened in that plug too! Now some of you would probably have freaked out by this point, but I'd been living with it for over half my life by this point and I actually rather liked my little ghost! I'd even given him a name - Harry! And I often spoke to him as I did on this occasion. "Stop mucking about Harry, so you've found me, now pack it in!" is normally the kind of thing I say! And every time I've moved the same thing has happened. All quiet for a couple of weeks and then it starts again!
I suppose the most freakiest moments were after I had my daughter, Terri. We had a border collie then called Max who was very protective of her. When she was born I'd told Harry that he didn't need to look after me anymore and that he should keep and eye on Terri instead. That evening when we took her up to bed, Max refused to leave her bedroom door and spent the next hour staring at some random spot on the wall next to her room. The next day the hoover blew as did the microwave and the kettle. It appeared that Max didn't like Harry watching Terri and Harry was sulking! Another time I lost my rag with him as I couldn't find any scissors again (I think he takes sharp things to prevent children hurting themselves), so I yelled at him to pack it in and go away! The lightbulbs went on that occasion and then it was quiet! A week or so later I was out in the garden with Terri (a toddler by then) and my neighbour came out and asked if I knew anything about imaginary friends. I asked her why and she said that her youngest boy had suddenly started to talk to someone and it was freaking her out! Apparently he was having proper conversations with pauses in the flow of speech as if listening to the reply. I asked if she knew who/what it was and she replied that it was a man called, wait for it, Harry!!!! "Ah" I said, "he's mine!" I then explained everything to the poor woman and told her to tell him to pack it in and come home. I said she would probably feel pretty daft, but it would work. She did and it did. Her son stopped having conversations and my hoover blew again!!! Welcome home Harry!
Harry is still with me although not so active as he once was! I still get phases of things not working properly and they are normally related to times when I'm either extremely stressed or very upset, but it's fine and he's never been violent. I've been told by several 'medium' type people that he's my Grandad, but I'm not entirely sure as I never met my Grandad and I've never seen Harry, although one of my ex boyfriends apparently did! An old man with lots of white hair was his description and that is pretty much what my Grandad looks like in an old photo I have! I think he's quieter now as there are more of them than before. I'm pretty sure my dad is with me as is a old woman and a young boy, but again I've never seen them fully, only in those far reaches of the eye, but things do happen around me and I do get a lot of 'feelings', so I'm not dismissing it at all.
So Drop Dead Fred!!! My dad was a canny one! He believed me even if mum didn't and I think his choice of video was his way of saying it. As I've already said I think he knew what was coming! Bless him!
Have chilled a bit this week, so hopefully no ranting!!!
Went away this past weekend to Great Yarmouth with partner and Callum as it was Callum's birthday and we took his friend (also a Callum) with us. Was great fun for the boys as they spent most of the time between the beach and the arcades. However, not so much fun for me as my beloved partner who is "not interested in football and I only want to watch the England match" spent most of the day in the caravan watching every bloody match that was showing!!! Grrrr!
Ooops, a rant, sorry!
What else has been on my mind? Well, I've had some strange conversations with people over the past couple of weeks, all unconnected, about paranormal activity! Which kind of brings me back to my first blog about my dad and the Drop Dead Fred video. Those of you of a nervous disposition should probably stop reading now - hehe. So here goes:
When I was young I lived in a two bedroomed Council house in Twydall. I had the smaller front bedroom to start with, but when I got older (probably about 8ish) I moved into the back bedroom which was a lot bigger. The door of the room had a very stiff handle which you had to push down and then push a bit more. A bit like the zoom on a digital camera; you zoom in as far as you can, wait a microsecond and then zoom in a bit more (well that's how mine works anyway). Needless to say the bedroom door had a knack to it and it was one of the reasons I was moved in there; I could do it, but my dad, who was in his 50s by then, was having trouble with it as did my mum. I loved that room! It was big enough for me to separate into two areas; bed area and seating area with my record player and my books!
Anyway I'm digressing, but it is pretty important to lay down the grounding to the story. My parents were both ex Sunday School teachers and mum was very religious. I was sent to Sunday School, but never felt 'right' going and I still feel uncomfortable in a church; but that's another blog. Because of mum's religious beliefs she did not under any circumstances believe in ghosts or anything supernatural. She believed you died and went to heaven or hell and that was it! So when I, at the tender age of 8ish, would come downstairs and announce that my bed rocked every night and that my door was always open in the morning she wouldn't have any of it. Her explanation was that I must have dreamt the bed rocking and the door being open must have been me going to the toilet in the night and not remembering. Hmmm! Every night mum?? Seems a bit excessive. And there was more. We started having sharp utensils such as carving knives, bread knives and scissors going missing and they would turn up buried in the garden a few weeks later. Mum's answer: the dog!! Now I know that dogs are intelligent and Rex our mongrel was pretty cool, but to only steal knives and scissors!? And never to cut his mouth!? That seemed a little far fetched to me! I was convinced we had a ghost! Not an unfriendly one, but a ghost nonetheless!!
This phenomenon went on until I left home at 18, the only changes were that knives stopped going missing, but every time I got upset light bulbs would blow all at once and sometimes electrical items would fuse! Now that makes it sound like I'd get in a temper or a wailing moment and the electrics would go, but it wasn't like that. I didn't cry much as a kid as mum was never sympathetic, so I learned to keep upset inside, but whenever it got bad within a few days something would go; either all the bulbs or the hoover would fuse or the telly. It got pretty weird actually, but I was ok with it.
As I've said I left home at 18 and moved in with my then boyfriend and things were good. No bed rocking, no missing implements, no blown bulbs! But, a couple of days after I'd left my mum rang me rather shakily and said "your bed rocks!" Der!!! Yeah!! I've been telling you that for nigh on 10years!! "I'm not sleeping in there, I'm going back on the sofa!"
Two weeks later I got another phone call from mum saying that she'd slept on the sofa for a couple of days and then went back to the bed. She said that the rocking had continued, but that it wasn't unpleasant, but that it had now stopped! She thought she'd let me know! The very next day every light bulb in my house blew and the hoover stopped working! On opening up the plug, all the wires had been pulled out! The kettle then went and exactly the same thing had happened in that plug too! Now some of you would probably have freaked out by this point, but I'd been living with it for over half my life by this point and I actually rather liked my little ghost! I'd even given him a name - Harry! And I often spoke to him as I did on this occasion. "Stop mucking about Harry, so you've found me, now pack it in!" is normally the kind of thing I say! And every time I've moved the same thing has happened. All quiet for a couple of weeks and then it starts again!
I suppose the most freakiest moments were after I had my daughter, Terri. We had a border collie then called Max who was very protective of her. When she was born I'd told Harry that he didn't need to look after me anymore and that he should keep and eye on Terri instead. That evening when we took her up to bed, Max refused to leave her bedroom door and spent the next hour staring at some random spot on the wall next to her room. The next day the hoover blew as did the microwave and the kettle. It appeared that Max didn't like Harry watching Terri and Harry was sulking! Another time I lost my rag with him as I couldn't find any scissors again (I think he takes sharp things to prevent children hurting themselves), so I yelled at him to pack it in and go away! The lightbulbs went on that occasion and then it was quiet! A week or so later I was out in the garden with Terri (a toddler by then) and my neighbour came out and asked if I knew anything about imaginary friends. I asked her why and she said that her youngest boy had suddenly started to talk to someone and it was freaking her out! Apparently he was having proper conversations with pauses in the flow of speech as if listening to the reply. I asked if she knew who/what it was and she replied that it was a man called, wait for it, Harry!!!! "Ah" I said, "he's mine!" I then explained everything to the poor woman and told her to tell him to pack it in and come home. I said she would probably feel pretty daft, but it would work. She did and it did. Her son stopped having conversations and my hoover blew again!!! Welcome home Harry!
Harry is still with me although not so active as he once was! I still get phases of things not working properly and they are normally related to times when I'm either extremely stressed or very upset, but it's fine and he's never been violent. I've been told by several 'medium' type people that he's my Grandad, but I'm not entirely sure as I never met my Grandad and I've never seen Harry, although one of my ex boyfriends apparently did! An old man with lots of white hair was his description and that is pretty much what my Grandad looks like in an old photo I have! I think he's quieter now as there are more of them than before. I'm pretty sure my dad is with me as is a old woman and a young boy, but again I've never seen them fully, only in those far reaches of the eye, but things do happen around me and I do get a lot of 'feelings', so I'm not dismissing it at all.
So Drop Dead Fred!!! My dad was a canny one! He believed me even if mum didn't and I think his choice of video was his way of saying it. As I've already said I think he knew what was coming! Bless him!
Sunday 6 June 2010
MID-LIFE CRISIS, RESPECT AND JEREMY CLARKSON
Right, I'm now a year older!!! Wiser I'm not so sure about; grumpier I'm positive about and definitely older! So what has been going through my head this week?
Well, to start with cars!!!! Now let me first inform you that I do not drive and I couldn't tell the difference between a Volvo and a Golf if you paid me. My normal description of a car is that it has 4 wheels, is big/small, is 3 door/5 door (yes I can tell that difference) and it's blue/green/white/black........you get the picture!! So why this week have I been thinking about cars? It may have something to do with Jeremy Clarkson, but then again it may not! I'm a little obsessed with Jeremy at the moment. It's my mate's fault; you know who you are (hehe)! She bought Phil two of his books for his birthday and one day, while bored and wanting something light to read, I picked one of them up and started reading. We are big fans of Top Gear in this house and I have to admit that Jezza makes me laugh and his books are even funnier! He is probably the most un PC person on the planet, but I find myself nodding in agreement to a lot of what he says even though I feel guilty for doing so and the way he writes is just genius! Anyway, after devouring both books in a matter of a week, I spotting in a local charity shop one of his others; this time about cars! I started to read with a little bit of trepidation as, remember I don't know anything about cars, I wasn't sure if I would enjoy it, but I did!!!! I loved it! It was still humourous and still full of his little rants and views on the world he inhabits, so I asked for another one for my birthday! I got 2!!!! Another World According To and a car one Driven to Distraction. I've already finished the World According To one and am about 1/4 way through the other. So my head is a little more car orientated than normal, but it still has not increased my understanding of cars at all. Which brings me onto the other reason I've been thinking about cars.
A friend of mine, who shall remain anonymous, has just bought herself a 2 seater sports car! What's the problem with that I hear you ask? Well, there are 3 of them in the household: herself, her partner and her son plus they have her partner's son every other weekend. Now, my uncarlike brain says why on earth would you buy a 2 seater car when you clearly need a minimum of 4 seats!? Her answer was that they rarely spent any time with all 4 of them in the car at the same time and that they could always use her partner's car if they needed to. Plus she wanted to be able to have a posh sporty car before she entered the world of senile dementia that she was so obviously heading for, now that she was nearing her 50s, and be unable to drive one! Good and fair point, but this got me thinking! Do woman now have the classic, if cliched, mid life crisis that men are supposed to have? You know the story; man hits middle age, goes out and buys the fastest, flashiest car he can find and runs off with his secretary who is half his age and has large breasts! It is terribly cliched, but not uncommon and you do see them driving around. Or do you? This was the problem; I don't! I've only ever seen them in television dramas or in glossy magazines where they end up looking, well, a bit of a prat!! So I've made a conscious effort this week to look out for flashy cars and to see who is driving them. I might have to re point out here that I know nothing about cars, so a flashy car to me could actually be a complete dumpster to a petrolhead, but on the look out I was. What were my findings? As I don't live in the most upmarket of places in the first place I only saw about 3 cars that I would possibly class as flashy and one of them was a pick up, so that one probably wouldn't even count! And who was driving these cars? All men; one woman, two men; no, all women! Yes, all 3 were driven by women! But that's not all, all 3 were driven by woman who were also blonde. All had enamelled fingernails that had sparkly trimmings. All looked pretty anorexic and only one, the one in the pick up, looked under 30 with a child in the back; the other 2 looking pretty much my age. I could be completely typecasting here but I swear that if I could have seen what they were wearing it would have been designer jeans and each would have had a designer (or at least of copy of a designer) handbag! Now, I'm not disrespecting my mate or, in fact, these other woman; at least I'm trying not to. How they live their lives is up to them and I dye my hair blonde now that it has turned salt&pepper grey and my original brown hair makes my face look washed out as my skin has gone paler as I've got older. Fair play to them if that is what they want to do and they can afford to do it. But, just as middle aged men in fast, flash cars with 'trinket' girlfriends look complete prats to me, these woman basically look like wannabe WAGs to me too! I just hope that they are not trying to relive their youth or, worse still, have a fear of getting old. Remember the phrase "mutton dressed as lamb", well now it seems it isn't just clothes, it's the car you drive as well but, I hate to say it, it still looks bad!! Sorry girls, my opinion only!! And I still love my friend dearly!
The other thing I've been thinking about is respect, or lack of it! My mum may not have wanted me or been the most loving or protective mother in the world, but she did teach me respect and I'm hoping that I've taught my kids the same (on reflection of what I've written above, I'm not being very respectful this week, but I did warn you that you might not always like what I'm thinking). However, this week I've noticed that there really isn't a great deal of it about nowadays. It all starts with dogs barking and ends in noise from neighbours!
I'm a dog owner/lover, in fact I love most animals, and even if a dog is launching itself at my fence with what can only been seen as a view to getting into my garden and ripping apart my child and dog (this has happened recently, but has now been resolved), I know it isn't the dog's fault, it's the owners. Although, saying that, I wouldn't think twice about grabbing the nearest item and beating the shite out of the animal should it have succeeded in it's mission. But back to the barking. I have several houses around me that own dogs and there is definitely 3 of them that consistently allow their dogs to continuously bark. If my dog barks, and obviously he does otherwise he wouldn't be a dog, I tell him to stop or I bring him indoors. I'd be mortified if I thought that anyone was sitting in their house/garden thinking "I wish they'd shut that bloody dog up!", but these owners obviously don't think like this at all. If fact, I don't think that they think much of their dogs either to be honest! A dog normally barks for 3 reasons: intruders, boredom or fear! Now if it is an intruder, surely you should be going to check it out; if it's boredom, then you aren't looking after your dog properly and if it's fear, you should again be checking it out. But these owners don't, so personally I'd like to go round and remove their dogs and rehome them in better homes, but I'm not allowed to do that so I have to put up with the barking.
The other is neighbour's noise and in particular DIY noise. The house next door to me has been sold and they are totally gutting and renovating it. I don't have a problem with this as it's something we need to do ourselves, but is it really necessary to start banging at 10.30pm? Yes, I said pm, not am! It has been known to be as late as 11pm before they start! Ok, I'll own up and say that it is rare and only once has it been 11pm and it normally is finished by 11pm, but even so. Are there not enough hours in the day already to get this sort of thing done? And the fact that they know that there is a child living next door really pisses me off (sorry)! It just comes back to respect; they haven't any! My worry is that, at the moment, they are not truely living at the house as it's pretty uninhabitable so what will it be like when they finally do move in permanently? Will I then have neighbours like my last lot that played European disco music (they were Polish as are these) really loud until God knows when! I truely hope not as I don't want to have to start another mini war. And that's another thing, why is it always crap music that's played really loudly. My next door neighbour but one was playing some excellent music the other week while out working in his garden, but I could only really hear it when the wind blew in the right direction; I was almost tempted to yell at him to turn it UP!!
Oh well, my rant is now over, my brain has been downloaded and possibly half the population has been ostracized, but I don't care as I'm off for one last cup of tea before going to bed! See you next week.
Well, to start with cars!!!! Now let me first inform you that I do not drive and I couldn't tell the difference between a Volvo and a Golf if you paid me. My normal description of a car is that it has 4 wheels, is big/small, is 3 door/5 door (yes I can tell that difference) and it's blue/green/white/black........you get the picture!! So why this week have I been thinking about cars? It may have something to do with Jeremy Clarkson, but then again it may not! I'm a little obsessed with Jeremy at the moment. It's my mate's fault; you know who you are (hehe)! She bought Phil two of his books for his birthday and one day, while bored and wanting something light to read, I picked one of them up and started reading. We are big fans of Top Gear in this house and I have to admit that Jezza makes me laugh and his books are even funnier! He is probably the most un PC person on the planet, but I find myself nodding in agreement to a lot of what he says even though I feel guilty for doing so and the way he writes is just genius! Anyway, after devouring both books in a matter of a week, I spotting in a local charity shop one of his others; this time about cars! I started to read with a little bit of trepidation as, remember I don't know anything about cars, I wasn't sure if I would enjoy it, but I did!!!! I loved it! It was still humourous and still full of his little rants and views on the world he inhabits, so I asked for another one for my birthday! I got 2!!!! Another World According To and a car one Driven to Distraction. I've already finished the World According To one and am about 1/4 way through the other. So my head is a little more car orientated than normal, but it still has not increased my understanding of cars at all. Which brings me onto the other reason I've been thinking about cars.
A friend of mine, who shall remain anonymous, has just bought herself a 2 seater sports car! What's the problem with that I hear you ask? Well, there are 3 of them in the household: herself, her partner and her son plus they have her partner's son every other weekend. Now, my uncarlike brain says why on earth would you buy a 2 seater car when you clearly need a minimum of 4 seats!? Her answer was that they rarely spent any time with all 4 of them in the car at the same time and that they could always use her partner's car if they needed to. Plus she wanted to be able to have a posh sporty car before she entered the world of senile dementia that she was so obviously heading for, now that she was nearing her 50s, and be unable to drive one! Good and fair point, but this got me thinking! Do woman now have the classic, if cliched, mid life crisis that men are supposed to have? You know the story; man hits middle age, goes out and buys the fastest, flashiest car he can find and runs off with his secretary who is half his age and has large breasts! It is terribly cliched, but not uncommon and you do see them driving around. Or do you? This was the problem; I don't! I've only ever seen them in television dramas or in glossy magazines where they end up looking, well, a bit of a prat!! So I've made a conscious effort this week to look out for flashy cars and to see who is driving them. I might have to re point out here that I know nothing about cars, so a flashy car to me could actually be a complete dumpster to a petrolhead, but on the look out I was. What were my findings? As I don't live in the most upmarket of places in the first place I only saw about 3 cars that I would possibly class as flashy and one of them was a pick up, so that one probably wouldn't even count! And who was driving these cars? All men; one woman, two men; no, all women! Yes, all 3 were driven by women! But that's not all, all 3 were driven by woman who were also blonde. All had enamelled fingernails that had sparkly trimmings. All looked pretty anorexic and only one, the one in the pick up, looked under 30 with a child in the back; the other 2 looking pretty much my age. I could be completely typecasting here but I swear that if I could have seen what they were wearing it would have been designer jeans and each would have had a designer (or at least of copy of a designer) handbag! Now, I'm not disrespecting my mate or, in fact, these other woman; at least I'm trying not to. How they live their lives is up to them and I dye my hair blonde now that it has turned salt&pepper grey and my original brown hair makes my face look washed out as my skin has gone paler as I've got older. Fair play to them if that is what they want to do and they can afford to do it. But, just as middle aged men in fast, flash cars with 'trinket' girlfriends look complete prats to me, these woman basically look like wannabe WAGs to me too! I just hope that they are not trying to relive their youth or, worse still, have a fear of getting old. Remember the phrase "mutton dressed as lamb", well now it seems it isn't just clothes, it's the car you drive as well but, I hate to say it, it still looks bad!! Sorry girls, my opinion only!! And I still love my friend dearly!
The other thing I've been thinking about is respect, or lack of it! My mum may not have wanted me or been the most loving or protective mother in the world, but she did teach me respect and I'm hoping that I've taught my kids the same (on reflection of what I've written above, I'm not being very respectful this week, but I did warn you that you might not always like what I'm thinking). However, this week I've noticed that there really isn't a great deal of it about nowadays. It all starts with dogs barking and ends in noise from neighbours!
I'm a dog owner/lover, in fact I love most animals, and even if a dog is launching itself at my fence with what can only been seen as a view to getting into my garden and ripping apart my child and dog (this has happened recently, but has now been resolved), I know it isn't the dog's fault, it's the owners. Although, saying that, I wouldn't think twice about grabbing the nearest item and beating the shite out of the animal should it have succeeded in it's mission. But back to the barking. I have several houses around me that own dogs and there is definitely 3 of them that consistently allow their dogs to continuously bark. If my dog barks, and obviously he does otherwise he wouldn't be a dog, I tell him to stop or I bring him indoors. I'd be mortified if I thought that anyone was sitting in their house/garden thinking "I wish they'd shut that bloody dog up!", but these owners obviously don't think like this at all. If fact, I don't think that they think much of their dogs either to be honest! A dog normally barks for 3 reasons: intruders, boredom or fear! Now if it is an intruder, surely you should be going to check it out; if it's boredom, then you aren't looking after your dog properly and if it's fear, you should again be checking it out. But these owners don't, so personally I'd like to go round and remove their dogs and rehome them in better homes, but I'm not allowed to do that so I have to put up with the barking.
The other is neighbour's noise and in particular DIY noise. The house next door to me has been sold and they are totally gutting and renovating it. I don't have a problem with this as it's something we need to do ourselves, but is it really necessary to start banging at 10.30pm? Yes, I said pm, not am! It has been known to be as late as 11pm before they start! Ok, I'll own up and say that it is rare and only once has it been 11pm and it normally is finished by 11pm, but even so. Are there not enough hours in the day already to get this sort of thing done? And the fact that they know that there is a child living next door really pisses me off (sorry)! It just comes back to respect; they haven't any! My worry is that, at the moment, they are not truely living at the house as it's pretty uninhabitable so what will it be like when they finally do move in permanently? Will I then have neighbours like my last lot that played European disco music (they were Polish as are these) really loud until God knows when! I truely hope not as I don't want to have to start another mini war. And that's another thing, why is it always crap music that's played really loudly. My next door neighbour but one was playing some excellent music the other week while out working in his garden, but I could only really hear it when the wind blew in the right direction; I was almost tempted to yell at him to turn it UP!!
Oh well, my rant is now over, my brain has been downloaded and possibly half the population has been ostracized, but I don't care as I'm off for one last cup of tea before going to bed! See you next week.
Saturday 29 May 2010
INTRODUCTION AND BIRTHDAYS
Okay I've decided to write this blog as it isn't about anything but me! It's my thoughts; whether weird, wonderful or just plain wacko. It will partly be about my life, but it will be mostly about my emotions, my dreams and any other non reality stuff that goes on in that grey blancmange that is my brain. I'm not sure if I want to publise the fact that I'm writing it, but if I do and you read it or if I don't and you come across it by accident and read it, so be it. If it means you hate me because of it, that can't be helped. If you no longer wish to be friends with me because you now think I'm completely barmy, I can't help that either. To all my friends who may find this and read it, I love you all!!! I mean no harm, no upset, no malice. Sometimes I might just have to rant and winkle out the thoughts in my head. So here goes:
I'm going to be 47 tomorrow! 47!! 3 more years and I'll be 50!!! Eeek!!!!! Needless to say I'm not a great celebrator of birthdays anymore. To be honest one birthday rolls into another one and although I'll be a year older and a year nearer to my grave, I don't/won't feel any different tomorrow to how I feel today or to how I felt last year or the year before that or the year before that to be honest!
Actually my birthdays haven't really meant much at all since my dad died! He died 4 days before my 30th birthday! It was sudden, no prolonged illness which is good, but it was a shock and not a pleasant one! He was 70! He was my dad and I loved him. He was a weird little muppet, but that made him even more special. You see my dad had been a prisoner of the Germans in WWII and that kind of made him a man of very few words and someone who never really thought anything was a problem. I mean to say, if you had been through that and survived, petty things like bills, weather, neighbours, kids, etc wouldn't exactly be that much of a big deal would they? Life would be great whatever happened as you'd be thinking that you were bloody lucky to even be alive! After being starving to the point where a piece of mouldy bread found in a field was a feast (and that is one story he told me), not having quite enough spuds for the roast dinner isn't exactly going to bring you out in hives is it? To him all life was good! That's my impression of him anyway! I never really asked him about WWII, I should have as I can imagine it would have been mind blowing, but you never do ask your parents stuff do you? It's only after they aren't there anymore that you think "Shit, wish I'd ask him/her about so and so", but, of course, by then it's too late.
My dad was fab, my mum on the other hand was a bit too out there! Mum was 10 years younger than dad, so while he was being marched, starving across fields in Germany, she was a kid running around with the rest of the kids gawping at the house of their school teacher which had been bombed and hoping that said poor woman was dead - kids, haven't changed much have they? My dad was one of 11 kids, my mum one of 4 girls! My dad wanted kids, my mum didn't!! Actually they was so chalk and cheese it always amazed me that they stayed together! But stay together they did and they had me! Just me! And I've grown up to be a slightly fucked up mixture of both of them! I love my kids, like my dad did me. Major crisis doesn't faze me just as much as it didn't faze dad and I'm secretly a romantic. But I'm independent like my mum, as mad as a hatter and prone to bouts of depression just as she was. She dreamed of travelling down the Nile and visiting the Valley of the Kings and I dream of living in the countryside on a homestead with chickens and a goat. She never realised her dream and I doubt very much if I'll ever realise mine, but hey ho, what the hell!
Back to birthdays and dad dying. The weirdest thing about the whole death thing was that my dad had gone out and bought me two videos (remember that format folks?) a couple of days before he died and the titles of those videos were 'Drop Dead Fred' and 'Flatliners' - spooky huh!!?? I still can't watch Flatliners without sobbing uncontrollably at the music at the end, although I love the film and Drop Dead Fred has other connotations that I'll go into at a later date. I cannot for the life of me remember what my mum bought me, but then why would I? That birthday was a poignant one and I think dad knew what was coming!
So as to tomorrow! Don't know what is happening, preferably nothing! I'm hoping for a quiet day with a lie in and a few pressies and a big kiss from my wonderful son. Ooo and Going Postal is on Sky1 tomorrow night and I love Terry Pratchet, so all in all it'll be another day with a few extra niceties dropped in! I will probably have a glass of wine or two or maybe even three and I will at some point have an incredible urge to watch Flatliners and have a good cry. Unfortunately I still only have it on video and our video player died years ago and we never replaced it, one day I must go out and replace the movies just so I can remember my dad in my own weird little way, not that he's ever forgotten, but is always remembered most around about now!
I'm going to be 47 tomorrow! 47!! 3 more years and I'll be 50!!! Eeek!!!!! Needless to say I'm not a great celebrator of birthdays anymore. To be honest one birthday rolls into another one and although I'll be a year older and a year nearer to my grave, I don't/won't feel any different tomorrow to how I feel today or to how I felt last year or the year before that or the year before that to be honest!
Actually my birthdays haven't really meant much at all since my dad died! He died 4 days before my 30th birthday! It was sudden, no prolonged illness which is good, but it was a shock and not a pleasant one! He was 70! He was my dad and I loved him. He was a weird little muppet, but that made him even more special. You see my dad had been a prisoner of the Germans in WWII and that kind of made him a man of very few words and someone who never really thought anything was a problem. I mean to say, if you had been through that and survived, petty things like bills, weather, neighbours, kids, etc wouldn't exactly be that much of a big deal would they? Life would be great whatever happened as you'd be thinking that you were bloody lucky to even be alive! After being starving to the point where a piece of mouldy bread found in a field was a feast (and that is one story he told me), not having quite enough spuds for the roast dinner isn't exactly going to bring you out in hives is it? To him all life was good! That's my impression of him anyway! I never really asked him about WWII, I should have as I can imagine it would have been mind blowing, but you never do ask your parents stuff do you? It's only after they aren't there anymore that you think "Shit, wish I'd ask him/her about so and so", but, of course, by then it's too late.
My dad was fab, my mum on the other hand was a bit too out there! Mum was 10 years younger than dad, so while he was being marched, starving across fields in Germany, she was a kid running around with the rest of the kids gawping at the house of their school teacher which had been bombed and hoping that said poor woman was dead - kids, haven't changed much have they? My dad was one of 11 kids, my mum one of 4 girls! My dad wanted kids, my mum didn't!! Actually they was so chalk and cheese it always amazed me that they stayed together! But stay together they did and they had me! Just me! And I've grown up to be a slightly fucked up mixture of both of them! I love my kids, like my dad did me. Major crisis doesn't faze me just as much as it didn't faze dad and I'm secretly a romantic. But I'm independent like my mum, as mad as a hatter and prone to bouts of depression just as she was. She dreamed of travelling down the Nile and visiting the Valley of the Kings and I dream of living in the countryside on a homestead with chickens and a goat. She never realised her dream and I doubt very much if I'll ever realise mine, but hey ho, what the hell!
Back to birthdays and dad dying. The weirdest thing about the whole death thing was that my dad had gone out and bought me two videos (remember that format folks?) a couple of days before he died and the titles of those videos were 'Drop Dead Fred' and 'Flatliners' - spooky huh!!?? I still can't watch Flatliners without sobbing uncontrollably at the music at the end, although I love the film and Drop Dead Fred has other connotations that I'll go into at a later date. I cannot for the life of me remember what my mum bought me, but then why would I? That birthday was a poignant one and I think dad knew what was coming!
So as to tomorrow! Don't know what is happening, preferably nothing! I'm hoping for a quiet day with a lie in and a few pressies and a big kiss from my wonderful son. Ooo and Going Postal is on Sky1 tomorrow night and I love Terry Pratchet, so all in all it'll be another day with a few extra niceties dropped in! I will probably have a glass of wine or two or maybe even three and I will at some point have an incredible urge to watch Flatliners and have a good cry. Unfortunately I still only have it on video and our video player died years ago and we never replaced it, one day I must go out and replace the movies just so I can remember my dad in my own weird little way, not that he's ever forgotten, but is always remembered most around about now!
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