Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Nearly forgot...

It was Burns Night tonight, when we are meant to eat a dinner of Haggis, neeps (turnips) and tatties (potatoes) and think of Robert Burns poems to recite.

None of this happened.

But what is worse, the Hobbits came home from school saying they had no special assembly, no mention made and no poems (we always had to memorise at least one of them back in the dark ages when I went to school.)

I don't know why this year nothing much has been done or said.  There you go.  The man himself probably wouldn't have given a damn anyway.

Favourite Burns story:

Burns is out walking and passes a milk maid on her way to the farm, yoke across her shoulders.  She is about to walk past when Burns stops her -

"Do you know who I am?"  He asks, she does not, "I'm Robert Burns."  He states.

Wearily she motions to her milk pails.  "Shall I put these down now then?"

(If this needs explaining then I'll go no further than to say that as a renowned womaniser she wouldn't have know much of his poetry but she'd know of his reputation.)

There is a myth that we have to hunt Haggis and live in Shortbread Tins.  Not true.

I'll Huff and I'll Puff and...


To give you an idea of how old these trees were, spot the person standing behind the one nearest the loch.

Your Opinion Counts

...but only if you agree with the general consensus.  If you don't you may find yourself ridiculed, excluded and made to feel a bit grim.

Despite the fact that life at the moment is more than challenging enough I do like banging my head against a brick wall it would seem.  By spouting my very own opinion online there is a danger that, by going against the current, you bring all sorts of trouble down on your head.

The pack can turn and it turns on you.

Not nice but then, if you were to agree just to be seen to be agreeing (and I have a feeling some do - in a 'look at me, look at me, I'm one of you too!' way) would that not be worse?

I know I'm not socially adept enough to skip away when I should.  I blunder in, say my piece, take the consequences.  I have my opinions, I have my prejudices, some are not correct, some are based on beliefs that are hard for others to understand but I await the debate to show me the other side.  Once that debate gets to the point of mud slinging and hysteria the argument is lost and I pay no more attention to them.

Banging your head against a brick wall only gives you a sore head!

I never learn.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Gong Xi Fa Cai

Who knew Rabbit would be such a little sh*t?  Long live the Dragon (for the next year at least.)

I am not a Dragon, indeed in a more than coincidental throw of the dice I am a Pig.  Yes, quite.  This year, according to the rather natty little calendar I was given by our local Chinese takeaway, is going to be a good one for us Piggies and I can't say it isn't about bloody time.  As it is positive I am going to ignore the origins of the calendar and believe in it wholeheartedly (for it doesn't have such a happy forecast for all the animals, but let's not concern ourselves with them.)

It is a pity that dragons are more legend than truth - although if they were real it would be more Reign of Fire than Dragonheart for sure.  They are a powerful symbol worldwide.  The Hobbits once had a lovely children's book with pop-up dragon pictures and stories, unfortunately a wicked witch stole it away (or rather a neighbour in our old town"borrowed" it and never bothered returning.)

See I initially wanted to use this as a light-hearted take on the dragon...

but then I came across this...

So Idris or Soupdragon, take your pick.  I was raised by Oliver Postgate*, don't get me started on Bagpuss.

*Don't be ridiculous of course I wasn't actually, physically raised but nearly every fond tv memory of my tiny years has a Postgate character involved.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

My Moment Of Zen

Confidently I can say, this weekly art class is the only time of the week I can truly forget about everything.  That alone is worth it.

I done a drawing...

I done another drawing...

And I don't care if anyone likes them or if they are any good because I am HAPPY.  Do you hear that?  HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!

Eeyore is now waiting for something to go wrong.  AND I STILL DON'T CARE!  

Thursday, January 12, 2012

So I'm doing this now...

Only we won't be doing nudes (at least I don't think we will) and we have not taken up Victorian garb and I certainly am not ready for the paints yet.

In an endeavour to straighten out my frazzled existence and to try and find some calm in the current rough sea (I'm trying to be polite and not explode into a rant about the f**king social worker who is mucking about with mother.)  This is my answer and, after my first dip into the world of art in a few years, I have chosen well.

Two hours, in the company of older, more well-heeled women than I might not sound fun but it was the quickest two hours of the week.  As I focused on the little seed pods, trying to get the shading right, I lost the pain and worry that has been the black hound at my back this past disappeared completely.

Utter bliss.

*The Women's Life Class - Alice Barber Stephens, circa. 1879

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Small & Far Away

I have discovered that, when dealing with social workers on behalf of elderly parents, if you go against them even slightly they will bombard you and badger you until you cry.

Yes indeed.

I wish for brighter days and an easier option and possibly someone to allow me and my boys to live in peace for once.

Thursday, January 05, 2012

I see what you did there...

...and I remain unimpressed.

So Faldo's Christmas present was a new cushion to sleep on.  Only Anakin cat has decided it is the perfect fit for him.  Poor Faldo became confused and has spent the night avoiding the cushion despite the fact the cat went out on his nightly travels some time ago.

The power of the cat must never be underestimated.

Not from today but the picture illustrates this dilemma perfectly.

The culprit...

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

Bit windy out...

There are many uncomfortable ways to awaken in the morning.  That awful feeling you have forgotten something important.  That tingly feeling caused by sleeping heavily on one part of your body, i.e. the dead arm, the cricked neck.  That realisation you are not dreaming there is an extra long freight train passing on the railway track that is a mile or so away, the noise is real.

Pick the last one, that is what I heard in the wee dark hours of whatever o'clock it was.  

At the beginning of December we had the grandly announced hurricane that caused a minimal amount of damage despite the general public being assured that it was very windy out indeed.  As will be seen from the upcoming photographic evidence a rather wobbly couple of fencing panels fell over from our neighbour's garden.

Last night I heard but not a peep about any up and coming contender for the windiest day of the winter.  Our poor elderly neighbours two-doors down have lost most of their roof and the slates are stabbed into our grass.  They've also lost a portion of fencing which at some point flew across the gardens beheading the neighbours whirly-gig as it passed the already downed fencing panels, one of our washing line posts impaled the fencing allowing it to crash down and squish the other fence.

All in all at least it wasn't the bloody roof.

This used to be their playground...


Oh but there is more!


On other news.  I have decided that there is no way that mother is coming home on Monday.  If this results in us losing this house then so be it.  I cannot cope with her, she is not able to come home still incontinent and unable to hold a cup of hot tea.  I won't be here 24/7 to watch over her and it may sound cruel but I have a feeling that the social work department have timed this so I wouldn't be able to ask for help and once she is dumped at home that will be it.

I go to the Docs on Thursday, I need backup.  If I'm too sick to work I'm too sick to care for her properly.  Once I'm fit then ok, we can deal with it then but until that point there is no use my stressing out, being physically sick over it.  

I spoke to someone once in this position.  They confirmed that once social work have gotten them home then the carer is left pretty much to deal with it and to fight tooth and nail for any help or advice at all.  As far as I can see this hasn't been done at all correctly, I wasn't involved in any of the arrangements which will impact on me and my children.  I cannot cope with a fight with the social work department but they have been very sly about this so let battle commence.

Argh what a fricking mess it all is but I have to stay strong and make sure I deal with my illness first, what is it they say on airplanes - put your own oxygen mask on before attending to anyone else.