People you love.

It seems difficult to comprehend the tragedies of the world.
The tragedies in Conneticut make us aware it is very important to love our family, each and every day.
No matter if they peeve you, don't let that lie.

My Grandmother, bless her lovely, kind,  heart said "Never let the sun go down on your anger"
What wise advise that is.
If we should not make amends, who knows what may happen to a loved one, on a following day, or, indeed in the hours to come.

If we had not made our peace, and expressed our love, how would we feel, should a tragedy occur?




I look at this photo on my wall, of myself as a young, (ingnorant) innocent child, with trusting smile, and no knowledge of what direction my life would take.

My early flaxen blond hair, belied the mid brown it became on adulthood.
I was not fixated on hair colour, so did not care about such things.

In the Summer I had natural sun-induced blond streaks, which were not fashionable in those long ago days. I still did not care. I might add, those streaks are grey today, and I still do not care.

Once I married, and had my children, I was content to be 'haus brown'. After all, what did it matter?
In this photo of myself and son, he was about to have his first cold, and he was not feeling well- hence no smile, but he was usually a very smiley baby.

I love this particualr photo of Brett and Jo. It was as though a secret was being shared. I know the photographer was intrigued with my children and endeavoured to take many photos, mostly for his own use.

This is another very doubtful photo taken of myself as a young child. Wearing the same little georgette dress, as in the first photo. Apparently I did not eat very much, and remained very small for my age for quite some time.
Not true today!

In this photograph, I had almost had my third ring finger, left hand, severed by a car door, hence the apprehensive expression. The photo shoot had been booked prior to the finger incident! If you look  closely, the 'dressing' can be seen on my finger.

I think somehow, I was the idiot who 'let' this happen to me!

This next pic of Brett with 'Santa' is not a happy memory, and I swear, put Brett off bloody Santas forever!

.What a crass and insensitive 'Santa' he was, and I felt so sorry for my son.
Do your see the lecherous look on this 'Santa's face?' . The result was, we never went to any further 'Santa' meetings, and I love the movie Bad Santa!

Our life seems to have continuing bad news and prognosis for a short life, as opposed to a longr one, for my precious son.

I have no idea how I can deal with this process or this loss, but I know I will support my son, whatever his decision is,regarding treatment
-ie futile chemo- or not. His prognosis is dismal. My heart breaks, as every mother's would.
I will, however, support his decision what ever it may be. I hope to be by his side, as a loving supporting person in his journey.

So, I leave with Roger Waters and Eddie Vedder, 'Comfortably Numb'

Thank goodness for all the musicians, who say it all for us!

Marking time.

My beautiful Gardenia. I am very fond of this, as I grew it myself, from a branch off another plant, which grew in a garden of a house we rented.

 Sadly, the extreme heat and then heavy rains we have had, have browned off all the blooms, and it is all but spent. It was briefly, very beautiful, and the air was so sweet from it's perfume.

 I have no idea what this little tree is called, since I have long ago lost the label that was on it when I bought and planted it. It has quite pretty flower clusters that hang down. I have blogged about it before I think, long ago.

This is just a another sky pic. Not sure when it was taken, but I love the colours. I have not taken any new pics for a few days, it has been so grey and dismal, nothing to see, but grey, and rain.

This is my dear little Honey, with the shortest clip she has EVER had! She seems to like it, though, and has been very frisky since she had all her wool off!

She looks so tiny, and everyone who has seen her has been really shocked at how small she appears without her woolly bits.

Another flower pic. I treated myself to this, because it is so pretty and I have been so blue. I once had a lovely pink Hydrangea, that I had rescued as it sat dying in the cheapie bin. It grew to be very luxurious and then, I made the mistake of planting it in the garden. Another plant... gone to Gom.

This was taken yesterday, a heavily laden web- the raindops looked like pearls.

I am very heavy of heart today. Morty has had to find a new home, and of course, I cried bitterly when I said goodbye. I will miss his arrogance and his talking loudly, demanding food. He was never a cuddly cat, but I loved him dearly, all the same. He has gone to a good home, and I am sure he will be very happy.

Personal crap is heavy and dark, so I won't dwell on any of that.
For those of you who follow Up on Facebook, I have repeated many of these pics that I shared on that site. Sorry, but after all, they are not so ugly, really.

Chris Isaak. "Life will go on".

Lying to myself..

I have been lying  trying to convince myself that all these excess parts on me, are given to me  with a purpose. They are added lest I lose my appetite and need the reserves to live on. At this rate I could not eat for another year or so, and I would still not be skeletal!
It would not be so bad, if only gravity did not intervene and drag things down to inconvenient locations.

Not that I want to be skeletal~ I once told my very thin mother that Grandmothers are supposed to be squashy and plump, not thin and small like she was. I was not unkind, and we laughed. One of my nephews once told her that her skin was too big for her!

I tell myself I have recovered from the loss of my Mother, but of course that is another lie. Just as I lie about recovering from the loss of Gom. I wake most nights in a panic, wondering where he is, ...then I remember, he is gone forever.

Sunset, through the Lily Pily. I wish I had a camera with a stronger lens, but I could not really justify the expense.
I treated myself to a Tablet, and I lied to myself that I really needed it. I did not, of course, but am I glad I indulged! I get so much pleasure from being able to sit up in bed, and read my 'mail'. It is another form of lying, because I tell myself I do not need to get up, and start the computer to catch up with news and friends. I can procrastinate, and remain in bed a lot later.

This golden view contained the most brilliant gold 'chunks' that looked almost like symbols. I lied to myself that they were a message for hope for the future, for me. I was frustrated when the camera failed to record how brilliant and unusual they were.

I lie to myself when I go out shopping for groceries, and I buy beautiful fresh vegies, and then never quite get around to using them all. I read my many recipe books, and I promise myself I will try to make some of the best dishes. I lie. I am told this is quite common, and a Health Nurse told my brother she has given up on fresh veg now, and just relies on frozen or tinned. I know of friends who do the same, but I never thought it would happen to me, living in such a privileged country and circumstance, where the fresh produce is so readily available~ if not always affordable!
My Grandmother used to say, "The road to Hell is paved with Good Intentions" Yes, I pave mine daily!

Last night this crescent moon intrigued me, lying under the palm. My grandfather used to say a crescent moon on it's back meant bad weather. I suspect that might have been a lie of sorts, too.

I am not a gambler by nature, but Gom used to love to have his little flutters on horses, pokie machines and Lotto and Keno. I never bother, but yesterday I lied to myself when out with my family for lunch at a Club. I convinced myself I would win on Keno. I did, but it was less than I had invested, so that was another lie! It made me smile though, as I thought of Gom, and how happy he would have been to see me trying. I had a dream that I won a fair amount of money, and so hope springs eternal I gues.

Kenny Rogers, The Gambler.

Cloudboats.

I take the title of this post from a song I once heard a school girl friend singing, while we waited in line for some boring exercise.

Her sweet young voice was so exquisite, and beautifully true. I could not believe my luck to be chosen to sing in the same school choir as she~ my voice was made for descant and harmony.

I still find myself singing harmony to many songs I love~ even though it is only inside my head!

Nowadays, my voice is a dismal, cracked, flat, imitation of a voice, but at least I have the memory of singing in that choir, and the pleasure it brought me.
                                                                ********


Some of you may have noticed I seem to have rather a penchant for taking cloud photos, or sunsets. I find the sky is never boring, and some of the cloud formations are just so lovely. Of course, there are many times when my camera is not to hand. Although I now have a Smart phone, it has a somewhat dumb driver, and I have trouble getting my photos to be successful on the phone. User Error 19, I think they call it? Or indeed, any other number you might wish to choose! One size fits all, for me.

Here is another sunset, mild and tame. In the past a blog friend who used to read here, suggested I make a coffee table book of the life and views of this pine on the left.

This was taken a few nights earlier, and it held a somber blue quality that I loved. Yes the lone tall pine is in centre shot this time. Our palm in the foreground can be a nuisance or a frame. I do like it, and it is much nicer than the dratted power lines that can mar my shots.

                                                               ********       

It was my beautiful Sister's Birthday on 15th Nov. I tried to phone her, but missed catching her. I left a message, and she called me back today. It was like a tonic, talking to her, and laughing. She talks 'Kiwi', and not many Aussies do, so it is a treat to hear from home. Her exciting news is, her youngest daughter is expecting twins! And, they are identical, so that is wonderful news.                                                          

                                                                ********

When my son was quite young, he adored the Pink Panther, and his father took him to several  Pink Panther movies, with Peter Sellers. As a family, we attended some together, and they were good fun, and we all enjoyed them.

Larger Pink Panther stuffed toys were hard to come by, but we had contacts in the toy retail world in those charmed days, and one of our friends informed us he could get us a large size Pink Panther.
Back in those days, there was some ridiculous Import Law regarding stuffed toys that were imported, into New Zealand. . If they had a zip, they could be regarded as something different to what they really were,--- a stuffed toy---(for goodness sake, what was so sinister about that?). So our "Pinky" or rather our Son's Pinky, had a large zip in the centre of his back, that led to .....nothing.  Just a blank aperture, with cotton insert for lining, and no pocket!

Nevertheless, our Son loved his "Pinky" dearly and he had a lot of fun posing him with friends and family, and  playing Pink Panther movie scenes with his sister. 

Somehow Pinky survived the culling and the paring, when we moved from New Zealand to Australia, and he is still a part of our lives today. Maybe a little tattered, and worse for wear, but children and dogs alike love him!

So here, is Pinky, posed by my Son, on my bed, with Zane the miracle dog. We still can't believe how lucky we are to have found him and he is the perfect dog for my Son. He knew a small dog would fit the bill, but he did not fancy what he refers to as a 'small poofy dog' with lots of white fluff. Well Zane is not poofy and he doesn't have much white hair, but his nature is just beautiful and he is a perfect 'fit' for Son.

Lastly, here is this evening's offering. I love the lightened Cloudboats.

A wonderful friend, Mary Canning has created an 'Open' Facebook Group, which anyone can join. It is devoted to photos of Ups in our everyday world, and anyone, who uses Facebook,  can post and join in the fun.

(Some of my friends who also read fb, will find a pic or two duplicated.)

A Psychologist friend once told me if you are looking "Up" it is impossible to feel "Down". I believe this is true, and I try to find "Up" every day.

If I did not, I would be a blithering idiot in some mental facility, quietly- or loudly, even- going quite mad.

Bob Dylan, Not Dark Yet.

A Song For Hope.

We have some dark days.

I always try to look UP, and see the positive.

This is dedicated to my beautiful Son, whose passage is dark, and troubled,

This link has been disabled by request. It is for Peter Gabriel, and Kate Bush singing "Don't Give Up" Always remember, We Love You.

The Veiw from Here.

At the risk of boring anyone stupid, who reads here,  I am posting my sky views again, after rather a long time of not taking any photos of the sky or anything else.

It is Melbourne Cup Day here in Australia, and they call it the Race that Stops a Nation.

In New Zealand it is also very popular, as quite often the horse that won the cup was bred in New Zealand. Not so, these days, as there are horses from other countries now competing- which is not to say that Aussie and Kiwi horses are lacking quality!

Not that I am a fan of horse racing really, but when I was a lot younger we always had sweepstakes at the Hotels, and later, at workplaces. Harmless fun, really, and when I was young and slender, it was fun to dress up, and spend the day with friends.

I love seeing all the fashions and the pretty young girls, and women, in their hats and high heels and pretty frocks.

I am not a Royalist, but I have enjoyed seeing Prince Charles with his Duchess Camilla, and I think they do look so genuinely happy together. A bright light, and who does not deserve Love?

Most of this post will be unrelated to the photos of my view, but they are something a little different. Also take my mind of things at ground level, so to say.

Yesterday was one of those days when I had to race around having an MRI & dealing with several crap urgent matters of everyday boringness.
Later in the afternoon, I decided to look for some ointment I knew I had, somewhere, for a recurrent  itch I get. My stock staple cure for almost everything ~Teatree Oil~ has failed to work it's magic, so time for the big guns.
Big mistake! It was not exactly where I thought it was, but my gosh! what a shock I got at the 'things' I found. And some of them were truly 'things'. Some were so old I could barely read the expiry date, (and when I did, I was horrified!) and others were just a mystery - to say nothing of the old grubby bandages, and dressings, which appeared to have rotted in their very packaging!
Various band aids, which were never there when I needed them. Old soap, old makeup- wtf? who keeps old makeup?
Apparently I do.

Gom used to go on periodic raiding tidying forays in the bathroom cabinet, but he knew it was more than his life was worth, to touch any of my precious rubbish treasures.

So, needless to say, a large bag of old and useless items now rest in peace, in the rubbish bin. However, the awful thing is, there is more to be classified dumped when I get around to sorting it all out.

I have written many bitter letters of complaint about our various woes. Some have elicited no response, and some have given a very satisfactory attention appearance. Today, a very nice man telephoned me in response to a letter I had written to the Federal Minister for Health. I had already received an email reply, with some helpful links to pursue, so I was surprised and gratified when I got this call today. He told me NOT to give up, and to keep trying to get justice. He gave me a couple of tips and was a very sympathetic and comforting person to talk to.
Sometimes a pleasant, patient,  sympathetic ear can help enormously.
One of my son's ongoing problems, concerning a decent prosthesis, which may allow him to walk, is at last being addressed, and tomorrow he is to have a fitting for a prosthesis which has been in standard use in Europe for at least 20 years, but is grudgingly granted here in Australia. It is not even that expensive, and so, for some who have worked hard and paid monstrous taxes, it seems ludicrous that it is not the standard prosthetic provision option, here in this country.

It seems I have to have surgery, and am not looking forward to that. It will not be a major, but I am a huge coward, and do not want to have this surgery, as it will be debilitating for some time. I feel I am not really in a position to have it done. Have yet to have further investigations, so who knows? Maybe I wont have to have the surgery, in spite of the lovely lady Surgeon telling me I will. It is a problem that should have been addressed correctly before Gom died. That GP has a lot to answer for.

I do love these strong and vibrant sunsets, even though I know they are largely due to pollution. They weave a certain magic to me, and remind me of the most beautiful sunset I ever saw. It was on Phuket, on a holiday with Gom, ~for me, a trip of a lifetime. We wished we had stayed there longer, rather than spending time in Singapore. In reality, it was our first real honeymoon, even though we had recently become Grandparents.

This view in the same direction, which is west, is of a very different hue to the others. I rather like the dark and brooding appearance of the trees.

Lastly, this is a pic of my succulent, which flowered rather nicely for me this year. I am rather surprised it is still alive, as my brown/black thumbs are not really successful with plants.

I try to look up as frequently as I can, and though it is not always easy, I do get a sense of peace from the views.
I also very much enjoy my Facebook friends posted views of Up.

Lastly, Happy Anniversary to my beautiful Daughter J  and her Husband P.

Neil Diamond. Canta Libre.

I wonder how I missed September?

So long since I have been on here, I have forgotten everything I thought I once knew!

I seem to live a busy life, doing nothing. I know, that is impossible, but that seems to be what happens.

I spend a lot of time tripping about with my son, as he goes off to various clinics and appointments.

He is getting a new leg cast and should have it next week. The one he has now is very ungainly, and we are shocked at how primitive it all seems- it is the 21st Century for goodness sake.

His wonderful friends had a Benefit night for him, to raise funds to help him get a better leg. The System of public health is broke and broken, and even the technicians who make the legs agree, if there was more money, much better quality legs could be provided. One poor old man has broken his shoulder, because he cannot have a waterproof leg. He falls out of his shower. It is disgusting.

Son's friends came up from the City to share lunch with us, and present him with the cheque of a huge sum of $10,000+ raised by all his friends and well wishers. It was quite overwhelming for him, and an emotional time.

This pic below is of self, Son-in-law & daughter, then SG and Granddaughter. Son is peeping out over his sister's shoulder. He is sitting with some of his friends.

This pic is of Mrs N N & I. It was a beautiful day, and we sat out in the beer garden until it was time for lunch.

Here is Son, having his lunch.

In other news, we have a new member of the family! He is a wonderful rescue dog, and he is definitely Son's dog. He is called Zane, and he has stolen everyone's hearts. He is supposedly a Corgi X Chihuahua, but who knows. All we know is, he is adorable, and follows Son about all day and sleeps on his bed. I go down to say hello, in the mornings, and Zane just lifts his head, then snuggles down into Son, as much as to say "You can go now, we are quite OK".

Zane at his Master's Foot.

I had a kiln that I had used for my doll making, and I knew I could no longer lift heavy things, nor would I use it again. I decided to sell it. I listed it on a website and waited for months, with enquiries and scammers contacting from time to time.

I just had the feeling it would eventually go to the perfect owner.

And, Yes! it did. This beautiful lady came to see the kiln, and she bought it immediately. She told me she had lost out on several bids for kilns on eBay, and was so glad to find mine.

She makes the most beautiful glass beads, and she showed us some of her treasures. She had been to USA and had traded and bought beads, and lovely little glass trinkets.

She has a blog:  http://capricorndancer.wordpress.com

She also has an etsy shop ; http://www.etsy.com/shop/CapricornDancer

I fell in love with several of her beads and must go back to visit her shop.

I know the kiln has gone to the perfect home, and I am so happy.

I have had a foot problem, but I don't think there is anything to be done about it. A combination of arthritis and another problem, but I am very wary of any mention of surgery. They have decided they dont think it is malignant, so I can live with it.

No dancing the light fandango, but then, I never wanted to these days, anyway!

I can only wear flat shoes and have to be very careful of the fit. I don't mind though, as I once had and wore all the lovely shoes I wanted, and I am grateful, because some people never get that chance.

I must go and write some thankyou letters and reply to friends who wish to visit.

I am 'dog-sitting' Honey and Zane, as Son has taken SG off to the movies.

Simon & Garfunkel, Bridge Over Troubled Waters.

Dear Neglected Blog...

The Free Treats seem to be (bloody missing_) sparse, recently.
I have not been to visit you, dear Blog, and I confess I have neglected you, sorely.

I dislike blogging about the sadness and ugly bits of my  life, peferring to find the 'free treats'.

It can be very difficult, when you seem to be up against the wall, and out of all 'luck'.

The 'free treats' vanish, in the dross and dilemmas of the everyday plodding along with my life.

I still enjoy smelling my freshly sun-dried washing. I still love the feel of fresh sheets on my bed.
I try to look for the small things, that can make a day. The free treats, that we least expect. Some of mine are the sudden smell of blossoms- one being my Daphne shrub's heady flowers. Now the Jasmine is blooming, and spreading it's beautiful perfume around our airspaces.

My Son had a wonderful Auction Night, arranged by his friends, in the suburb where he lived for 16 years.
It was a magic night and it raised a lot of money to support my son.

We did not attend. I was carer for my grandson, as his parents attended the Fund Raiser.
Son was too overtwhelmed and embarrased by his friends support.
My daughter and son in law attended, and were blown away by the support for Son.

He received crushing news today re his payments from Centrelink. He does not qualitify for a 'Disability Pension' because he is not deemed to have a 'disability'. As he says, what part of his amputated leg will grow back, to change his disability?

He had regressed, as far as his stump is concerned. He can no  longer bear to wear his prosthetic leg, and the reason is the swelling of his stump. He was advised today, to leave the prosthetic off, and rest his stump, for a week.
It is very frightening, as he has had an Ultrasound, and no one can tell him the results, as yet. Tomorrow he goes back to see his GP, who had the Ultasound done. The 'Specialist' who handles his rehab, was not available today. He was sent a report on the Ultrasound. Tomorrow Son goes back to GP for results, and further referrals.
It seems some people get their money, and repautation, by doing nothing.

On another front, we have been searching for a small, well behaved dog for Son. We don't seem to be having much luck, and I wonder about providence, or whatever it may be called.

I  have a friend wo believes in "Putting it out, in the Universe". I wonder what part of the Universe had decided to sh!t on us today.

Ah well, our lives go on, regardless, and we are just a small blip in thr greater plan, as it is said.

I will not post my usual music link. I believe it is too large, to the file of the blog...or something of the sort.
All I can think of, is Que Sera Sera, as sung by Doris Day, & I am sure noone remembers that!

It will soon be Spring.

I know, we are still in Winter's grip.
But, I keep thinking of Spring, with the influx of flowers and the beautiful perfumes, of the Spring flowers.

My Daphne is currently flowering, and providing me with joyful memories of my mother, who loved Daphne so much, and it was always in bloom for her birthday, on July 17th. The perfume is a Free Treat.

I have other 'Free Treats' in the form of wonderful neighbours, such as Mrs N N. She is always there for me, no matter what. I really appreciate that lovely friendship. I always know, that whatever comes, Mrs N N will be there for me.

And another Free Treat has arrived from another lovely friend, in the form of 'Game of Thrones'. I now have the first 3 books, in paperback, and also the whole five books on my phone. I love the free treat of being able to read, in bed, at 4am, or whatever unseemly hour, on the phone. It truly is, a Free Treat, to have these books loaded for my reading pleasure.

I often think of my Grandmother, and know she would have loved this new technology. She would have relished reading her bible, in her bed, on frosty mornings. She was a very forward thinking person, and would have loved the advances that technology have made.

Some days are diamonds, and some days are stones, but somehow the spirit? lifeforce? keeps me going on.

We have found beaurocracy to be mindless and cruel, beyond anyone's belief. No treats there, free or otherwise!

Late I know, but I have always loved this song. And, after all, Aussie is good!

Ebb and Flow.

It seems that life is an endless flow, of ebbs and tides, that engulf me unexpectedly. I know they are there, and I know they will happen, but I never seem to see them coming.

The huge tidal waves wash over me, with their seemingly random swells.
I am always surprised, when I wash up upon the shore, and,  filled with sand, and grit, and seaweed, I realise I am still alive.

I have noticed how some people, at first encounters, seem  to be friends, and then they become... well, not so friendly, even though you had previously thought they liked you. And, indeed, you had regarded them as a 'friend'.
There enters a 'tone' or an 'air' to their responses to you.
At first, you think it is your imagination.
Then you slowly realise, they mean the slightly muted barbs, and thinly disguised, small insults.
You wonder what you have done, to bring on this apparent dislike.
You agonise over what small slight, or insult you may have unknowingly given.

Finally you know, it is not you, or your problem. It is their choice, and their problem, for whatever reason they choose.

It is quite liberating to choose, to disregard their choices, and move on with your life.

After all, a friend is someone who likes you.

There have been some wonderful Support/Care Workers my Son has had in past weeks. One lady in particular, was very intrigued by Son's juicing of fresh vegetables. She was amazed at how lovely the celery/carrot/beetroot/ginger juice smelled. She did decline to taste, but it may be because it is rather expensive. Vegetables just dont get cheaper!

We wish we could grow our own, but our land does not lend itself to gardening. Not that Son can do it now, and neither can I. If we had flat land, we could have no-dig garden beds, but alas, that is not to be, as it is all downhill! In more ways than one!

At last, for me, a friendly GP, who agrees with me not wanting to take drugs to keep some mythical 'quality' of life. I am so glad to have met him, and found him sympathetic to my views, and beliefs.

Drug companies seem to have menacing influence on the beliefs of all of us, that we need these drugs to survive. Well, NO we dont. I feel they may prolong life, but at what cost to quality of life?
Of course the Drug companies don't care about quality- they are all about profit.

"My Goodness. Let us keep this corpse 'alive and breathing', so we can continue to reap our profit from their medications."

Ok rant over.

I see the Rolling Stones are planning another Tour.
Good Luck to them. Love most of their music, so choose for yourself which song you like the best.

Grammar, plus Etiquette..

My mother was a stickler for 'correct Grammar'.
As kids, I think we thought she was being weird, and over controlling.
Secretly, we used to say,"Who cares?"

However, as life has moved along, I now give her much repsect, for her teaching, and her wisdom.

She purely did abhor, "I seen" "I done" "you was" and "we was".

One of her pet dislikes was a man, ignorantly, in her eyes,  wearing a hat, indoors.
Ultimate disrespect in her eyes.

Now, I am inclined to agree.
 It seems so 'rude. to my eyes, to see a man wearing a hat indoors, and in company. An old fashioned notion I know, but still valid to my observation. (what is he hiding... his baldness, his ugliness, his lack of confidence??) He is allowed all of these feelings, but he must feel inadequate in some way? Or not?

Then there is the 'man with hands in pockets'- trouser pockets to be exact. I have no idea why my mother found this to be so offensive, but she was rather horrified to see Prince Charles with his hands in his pockets, on public occaions.
She felt is to be an utter insult. The insult was directed to whom, I have no idea. But nonetheless that is what she felt, and believed.

Societies acceptances, and beliefs alter constantly, and I feel this is a good thing.
But occasionally my mother channels through me, and I feel insult at certain behaviours.
I do laugh about it, all the same.
After all, who will care in 100 years??

Sorry Mum. It wont be anyone we know.

Do you ever...

Do you ever get up in the morning, and womder,... 'what the hell am I doing here?'

Have I died, and gone to some parallel universe?

Is this my real life, or some hideous parody?

Surely, nothing could jest about such sadness? Or speak of hope and gladness to be alive, when faced with the reality.

Our ongoing journey seems to be an overwhelming battle, with no light at the end of the tunnel.

We try to think of our distant ancestors, who had nothing, compared to our modern life.
We wonder how they coped. We just cannot imagine. Somehow, the thoughts of their struggles, does little to ease our current pain.

I have recurrant dreams of 'normalcy' when my son still had two legs. I see him walking and pursuing activities involving both of his legs. I see him, as I know him, whole and perfect.
He is still perfect, of course, but he is now diminished in his perfection. Not, in my perception, He will always remian Perfect to me.

We try to turn our faces away, from our own imperfections, and are shocked to see a reflection, of some imperfection society might see in ourselves, or our offspring.

My eldest son has turned 50, and I find it so sad. I wish I had been with him, to mark this birthday, as  I was, at his initial birthday.. He does not, nor ever has, put credence to numbers. As he said, it is just another number, and not to be celebrated, or mourned. He feels he is lucky to be alive, and living his life.

I try not to be Sad Sack.

I no longer trust anyone, and I no longer expect that life will deliver, what we see, to be a fair balance.

It is not so much the lies, as the Sins of Omission that I find so disgusting.

Rufus Wainwright. Hallehujea.

Lost.. One Ka-ching

I have definitely lost my Ka-ching.

You know the one, that says Ka-ching, when you are full, sated, satisfied, nay almost bloated, and need no further food ~ of any description. No matter how desirable a packet of Tim Tams might appear, the Ka-ching keeps you from gorging  eating more than you really need.

I have no idea where my Ka-ching has gone, but if you find it, don't be a selfish mule, and keep it to yourself. Return it to me, Post Haste, before I get to Ka-Boom! as I explode.

Admittedly, I have not been able to get to the pool for two weeks, but how did my Ka-ching vanish so completely in that short time frame??

I did briefly, have a change of medication, which I am told is notorious for weight gain... as in Ka-Blooey!.
I had no idea it would work in such a short time, or, with such explosive consequences.

I am in emminent danger of going Ka-Splat!!

I am so glad I did not cast aside my Fat Clothes. I have learnt from past expeiences, Fat Clothes can be banished to some corner of the wardrobe, or drawers, but they are never to be cast out, which I tend to feel only tempt fate..

Really, it is the speed at which the Ka-Boom has set in, that I find most disturbing.

I am gazing with sadness at my new Ka-Skinny clothes, and have a horrible feeling I may never wear them with comfort, ever again.

The Great "They" say you will feel so much better if you finish things you have started.

Ummm, no. The packet of Tim Tams, the slices of Pizza, the leftover chicken, the bottle of excellent Marlborough Sav Blanc... the list goes on.

And still, a part of me craves food, and more food. I must be Ka-Plooyed/Ruined ~totally minus my Ka-ching.

Perhaps it has become Ka-Chomp?

There is no good news on any other front either. All is black, and blacker.

Although, there was a bright spot today. I went to a local garage sale, & met lovely friends. I bought a shower chair for $4. It is for me, as I seem to be somewhat unsteady recently- put that down to the Ka-Boom, I guess!

I also bought a very nice coffee mug, for very little money.

My friends found a wonderful bargain and hopefully it will be all installed now, and ready to go.

Because I love their sound, Powderfinger, Drifting further Away

Just the Random...

This is a nonsensical post, about the randomness of my (or anyone's) life.

As many of you know, I have had a rotten previous fourteen, or eighteen, or,more  realistically, twentyfour months, in my life.

Life tends to be like that, with random swings to good fortune, and the alternate swing into hell. With no bells, cushions or creature comforts.

I suppose it could be said, that our 'upswings' have no fanfare, either. Other than what we might afford it/them.

We tend not to notice the upswings, and almost choose to register only the downturns.

I have been watching 'Her Maj ' conduct herself with diginity and grace, & we are all aware that her life has not been plain sailing, and she has had to endure some hideous events.
I am stunned, and a little envious, that Her Maj can still wear high heels at her age.
I am lucky to crawl some days, let alone prance about, ~well maybe she is not prancing, exactly~ in low down sneakers.

I had a recent Ultrasound perfomed and the man who was doing the sounding, got into conversation with me.
He told me had been a sheep farmer, and now lives in Sydney, and is learning to like fish on his menu. He also said he will never eat sheep meat again, whether it be lamb hoggart or mutton! Fair enough, neither will I.
I am left kicking myself, for not asking how he became an Ultrasound Technician, after being a sheep farmer!
The question haunts me every day, as I ponder the turn in his life that could have led him to become an Ultrasound technician.
And yes, he is a genuine Ultrasoundist, he did not fall off a passing sheep truck. As he is an older man, I am assuming he took some 'mature age' training. He works for a reputable Medical Center, and did send the results to the requesting Dr.
(Results OK as it happens~ Just in case you are left wondering about the outcome.)

Son came home today, to go through some paces, with various Occ Therapy and Physio persons.
He will be 'let out'  to return home to live, on Thurs, all being well.
Morty was quite happy to see him, and Honey was positively overjoyed.

We asked could he stay home for lunch and he was happy to be able to drive us/himself back to the dreaded hospital, with it's grim room, and boring bland food.

The City Hospital, where his surgery was performed, has an almost restaurant quality food menu, and even some mulitple choices. The horror of the local food has to be sampled to be believed, and yes, I have sampled it, in my recent stay.
Who would have guessed that Lentils could be stuffed up and ruined?

I know my driving slightly 'disturbs' Son, and lately, it downright terrifies me!
I seem to have become 'spatially challenged' as it were, and parking the car has become a task/chore/challenge to be laughed at! Or cried at depending on one's mood.
(Mine is always the diagonally parked vehicle, in the straight parking bay, in case you are looking.)

I am waiting for the opportunity, should someone toot their bloody horn at me, such as the cow who almost reversed into the front of my vehicle, ~ to leap out and offer to toot their horn, while they check my car for dents and damages! Grrrr

It is raining, and has become very cold. We are advised that the weather will be very ugly this evening, with much rain, and high winds. Nothing new there, then. Very inclement.

I have always loved Autumn the most out of all the Seasons, but now, I am finding it tinged with much sadness, and find I regard the dead and fallen leaves with quite a changed perception, and somehow feel it will never be the same for me.
I loved the spectacular Autums in Christchurch, and know now I will never see another Autumn in that ruined city.

Just one more random. Why am I craving nothing but seafood of late?? haha, my childbearing days are well over, and as far as I am aware I have no deficiencies as per diet. My body must be craving something in the seafood and fish, that no other food has to offer.

I have posted this before. I still love it!
Porcupine Pie. Neil Diamond.

Music, speaks so much about our lives...

I am constantly reminded of how much the music we love, or have loved, spells the times of our lives. I still feel this woman has the best voice for most songs she sings. Some of them sound as if she is a true Soul Singer. Close your eyes and I defy you to choose her colour, or ethnicity. I never did learn to 'Jive' that being slightly before my time. But, Man,(to use the vernacular of the day) how I loved to watch the agility and strength, of those dancers! They were awesome, even performed by amatuers. Of coure, Phoebe Snow was later than the Jive era. I fell in love with her voice at a lunch Gom & I had, to celebrate our wedding anniversary- which one, I now forget, but I will always remember the day, every time I hear Phoebe sing. It was the first time I had heard her voice and it evokes memories of that day every time I hear her. Well, this is a bloody awful time of year. And bloody awful memories flood my mind. I am assured this is normal, and is, possibly, the new "me". I want to be the old "me" amd have the old reality, still. Whose arms will comfort me, and hug me, and tell me, "It will be alright". The answer is 'NO ONE' of course, and I have to live alone from now on... inside my head. My Son still has the remainder of his life to live, and cope. I cannot accept the reality in my mind. I have see the 'reality' and I cried. It is so brutal, and raw, and naked. To quote a friend, DANN, BUM, and BUGGER! Which means nothing really, except no acceptance of reality and a rage against the fate that has decreed this shall be our lot. Well Pheobe, I hopw you sleep in eteranal peace.

Scattered...or Shattered.

The images I have are scattered. Some seem to be absolutely surreal, and others seem nightmarish, beyond belief.

On the other hand, (as 'they' say) there are some non~shattering images, to seek comfort and joy in the knowledge, there is still happiness, and there is still joy.

The family is welcoming the birth and health of our latest edition, the "Inuit Princess" as her father likes to call her.

Here she is with her doting Granddad, my Beloved Brother.

I have these out of sequence, but here is the Princess, just after her birth, with her 'big' brother, and adoring Dad.

This was taken about 4 weeks ago, with her gorgeous Mum.

This is the latest pic I have, of the gorgeous Princess, taken -& stolen by me- by her Aunty M.

 And these two family members have just announced their Engagement. Proud Uncle and Aunt.

******************

Scattered thoughts of "Home" which will always be New Zealand.

This beautiful Home, built in the Marlborough area of NZ.  Designed by the owner, Beautiful K, who helped build it all.

The is a view to make me homesick! Those rolling New Zealand Hills!

 I just love this fireplace, with river stones, carefully chosen and set, to make this glorious fire-surround. And... after all, what is a fireplace, without a loved Cat?

I Wish!!

I hope you don't mind me using your beautiful home, to help me feel hope, K.

*****

Family, friends, and neighbours help me keep going.

Al Fresco dining has it's hazards, as copulating flies, plummet headlong into one's cup or Peppermint Tea.

Bugger!!

A fresh cup is requested, and delivered.

The damn teapot lid lands into the fresh cup!!

Bugger, again!

I guess, I was not meant to have Peppermint Tea that day.

My friend almost fell off her chair laughing,...& why not?

We needed the laughs.

Winter has arrived, and we are shivering through very cold nights.

My little Honey keeps me warm, snuggling under the covers.

Three Dog Night. Mama Told Me Not to Come.

Neglected Blog...

Poor old Blog, you are sadly neglected.
I have nothing cheery to write about, so decided to just leave well alone.

BTW when did they change this format for writing a post? It seems disconcerting, somehow. (Yes, yes, I am a fussbudget, who has discovered rather late in life, I hate change! Unless I am warned, or previously notified of said changes)

However, I have been moved to have a rant!!

I go to a local pool, a warm gentle exercise pool, open to the public.
Like myself, a lot of elderly, arthritic, or just plain aching people use this pool on a daily basis.

I have found it beneficial to both my body and my state of mind. The calm and the heat lend a very healing quality to both body and mind. Like minded souls can interact, or just remain private, which is my preferance.

My rant concerns the Yummy Mummies who have decided of late, that a good way to get out, is to take their screaming wriggling shouting splashing little offspring to the pool.

The Yummy Mummy brigade arrive, bearing wriggling, squealing, sceaming and often, bawling, toddlers and babies. The YMs proceed to shed their outer clothing, thereby exposing their newest full back tattoo, or the their shoulder tatts, or worse yet, their hideous bum-crack tattoos.
Why? Why?

Then the cacophanous noise level swells out of all proportion to the space in which the pool is located. It reaches deafening levels as piercing shrieks rend the air.
Meanwhile, Mummy looks on in dotage, as the shrieker splashes desperately, or leaps crashingly, from the side of the pool, despite signs declaring this is a Gentle Exercise Pool. There is to be no Splashing. no Jumping from the sides of the pool.

It seems evident that:  a) the YMs are unable to read.
                          or,:  b) these rules do not apply to them.

Curmudgeonly grouch that I am, I complained one day, and recieved my money back. Small consolation, as it still continues, and even though I know we need to share, in this world, I dont see why we need to share when there is and are, facilities for all other people.

There is a perfectly good heated pool, just for the children and parents or teachers.
There is another perfectly good heated pool where the older 'challenged' with their odd splashing, rough behaviour, and uncontrolled movements,  can be taken for exercise and water therapy.

I have specifically asked on occasion, if the disabled children/adults are in the pool, before I enter and pay my money. I am quite happy to not attend when the pool is required for the disabled or the 'challenged' or even the YM brigade.

I am not alone in this resentment, and have had several dark and muttered conversations with others, who like me, are aged and grumpy, and are seeking a solace from either mental, or physical pain.

I guess I just need to toughen up, and choose odd hours, when presumably, these people who are not in need of gentle exercise, are not in the  pool.
I also realise I may incur the ire of a parent of a disabled child or challenged child.

All I ask, is peace and space and quiet.

************

For any of you who are wondering about my son.
Unfortunately his leg has been amputated and the final diagnosis was Sarcoma of the foot.
It has had a devastating effect on my son, and he is struggling to come to terms with his loss and grief.

He is no longer in the City Hospital, but has been transferred to a Hospital in our region. It seems the Hospital system, and it's supposed Suppot systems, are all broke, and broken. We fight to get any information - including prognosis, plan of recovery, support, medical information. NO assistance from the Cancer Council, apart from one phone call. This gained at the instigation of a friend, who suffered cancer herself, and knows the devastation and grief it all causes the whole family.

My son feels he is in 'The Badlands', and I am inclined to agree. Yesterday it took me almost an hour on the phone to elicit the name of the Specialist, under which my son has been transferred,  where he is currently situated.
This person had told my son that he has been given the second worst type of amputation wound, for fitting a prosthesis.
What kind of madness would possess someone in the medical profession to say such a thing to a very distressed vulnerable and fragile person??
This is partly the reason I wished to speak to this person. This Specialist I was told, was 'not at the Hospital today'.

I feel as if I am going completely insane. Perhaps it explains my despair about the pool.
I have to keep trying to laugh at idiocy, at incompetence, at damned indifference to the human side of cancer, and amputation.
What purpose is served sending an amputee, to speak to my son, who advises all medications they are giving are wicked and e,vil and have unspeakable side effects?

No wonder I feel as if I need to go and throttle something, or kick something... or just get blind drunk.

Rant over.

How am I ??

How can I express the way I feel.
There are no words.
We are still hanging in limbo.
It seems there is no conclusive diagnosis.
Some things have been ruled out...which is great.

On the other hand- or foot, if you like- there is no real answer to the problem.
As a Mother, who firmly believes, and always has, that this is NOT a cancer, I keep the faith, and hope for the magic bullet that will shrink this terrible tumour, and save my son's foot, and therefore leg, from needless amputation.

As many of my friends know, I am an atheist. I do not have a god I worship or believe in. My friends who do, have prayed and cared for us, and I thank them for their beliefs and wishes.

Events in my life have decided my beliefs, but I never deny or disregard, or disrespect,  other's beliefs. We are all entitled to our own paths, and beliefs.
I do thank you all, for your caring thoughts, and I do beileve they can have an effect.


Michael Bolton, How am I Supposed to live without you.

What can you say???

We have been to Sydney, for diagnosis.
There is actually none.

The Biopsy has been taken, and the results, are nondecisive. No one can determine what the tumour is, or whether it is benign or malignant.

We stayed at a Hotel which is supposedly 'friendly' for discounting Hospital visitors. I don't really regard a $2 a night discount as 'friendly'.
However, the room we were allocated had microwave and cooktop facilites.
The downside was, there were NO utensils for cooking anything, either on cooktops, nor in microwaves. No plates, no cutlery, no saucepans, containers.

 I used a teaspoon to eat my ghastly microwaved meal- from the plastic container.

The second room we were allocated, had none of the above facilities, and it also had a cracked handbasin, which I regard as highly dangerous re germs and infection.

Back to the reason for our stay. My son's foot is seemingly malignant. An overnight stay, with a biopsy, was performed. Full anaesthetic, and recovery stay in Hospital.

Specialist says his gut says it is malignant. Tests are inconclusive.

It seems my son's condition is so rare, noone can figure it out.

Now they are suggesting melanoma. A seconday cancer site, in the foot.
Preposterous, really, as the full body PET scan shows no evidence of any other tumours, or abnomal cells in the body. A Plus, for sure!

The Specialist doubts the melanoma theory, with good reason.

We have been adivised that, either way, my Son will lose his foot and leg.
To me, as his mother, it just seems such a drastic thing, especially when I dont think it is really cancer, I cannot begin to contemplate such a thing.

I seem to be wearing a psychic sign on my head, announcing to the Universe, "Sh!t on Me!!!"  Or, maybe it is a sign on my back that says "KICK ME!! I Am Down Already, so I cant get lower!"


Who knows what lies ahead. I just hope I can be there to support my Son.

Brink

In the next two days, we will find out good, or bad news. Or perhaps, hopeful news.

I am holding the faith the news won't be as bad as we suspect it could be.

There is a special type of terror, in waiting for medical diagnosis, and ultimate prognosis.

I fear the bottom line is, the medical profession don't really know. Not their fault, just the state of medicine.

I remember my Grandmother's remedies. Not so silly, in today's newly dawning world of natural treatments, and cures.

How wonderful has Aspirin 'suddenly'  become?

But is it artificially made, or is it the original plant product?

What is real, or believable any more?

Good friends, such as those who called today, are real. They are believable.

Family are real and they are believable also.

*************

My son and I rescued, last Thursday, two small dogs,  who had been roaming our streets all day. It was dusk, and we feared they may be hit by cars. Plus the dogs seemed weary, and had obviously tired, of their day's adventures.

I dubbed them Mister Shaggy, and Mister Smooth.

We put them into our car, and took them off to our local, friendly, Vet Clinic.
They were such lovely little boys, and very friendly, and obviously well cared for.
As I went to pick up the little guy, Mr Smooth,  with the tan and cream fur, he became panicked and nipped me on the face.

Now, I am sporting a very large, & ugly, bruise on my face!

I rang the Vet's, next day,  to see if the rascals had been microchipped, and collected. Vet's nurse told me they are well known, and had gone home. She also told me that Mr Smooth is going blind, and he often nips the staff, at Vet Clinic.
They had been collected, and it seems they are renowned runaways. They come from a family of five dogs! (Lucky owners!)
They are the only two who make a run for it!

This evening there was a knock on our door, and there was Mister Shaggy, with a strange man.
"Is this your dog?" he asked my son, as Mr Shaggy went into raptures over Son. He then told us that Mr Shaggy had spent the day running over the road to our house, and back across the road to his, Mr Stranger's,  house.

I hope the little guy is ok. He is very affectionate, and very lovable. Rescue man said he would put him in the backyard with his little dog, so I hope there is no conflict.

We could not take him, as we are off to the City tomorrow.