Nothing prepares us for our 'Real Lives'.

When I was young, I would vaguely think of my future life, or my Real Life, I suppose. The teenage years seemed somewhat vague, and largely unrelated to what Real Life would be, later on in my life.


I did not have a clear picture of what the Real Life would entail.
I think my actual Real Life was so different to anything I would, or could, have imagined, much of it has been a huge surprise.

I was going to be a Nurse, and nothing disuaded me. Until I went Nursing. Several things changed my mind. Not least the Geriatric Ward. I was sorry for the old folks, but I think it takes a special type of person to nurse the Elderly, who may have lost, or be losing, their marbles. On the other end of that scale, if I could have just been an Obstetrics Nurse, I would have been deliriously happy. It was Not to Be, back in the day.

A new path, was not so much chosen, as happened. The great education of Life began. An Education I frequently protested, but Life had other ideas, and little old me, did not really matter. You know the scenario, Mind Over Matter. Life did not mind, and I did not matter!

My experiences with Mothers of the current boyfriends, certainly never prepared me for the eventual Mother in Hell Law I ended up having, I might have been tempted to run a mile from Gom, & everything to do with him, and his family, had I been lucky enough to have been gifted with second sight.

It does seem curious to me, that every mother of the beau of the day, as far as possible, liked me, and I, invariably, liked them right back. Alright, there were several I did not get to meet, being as they lived in other countries. However all the ones I met, and knew, were very nice friendly mothers, who seemed to regard me as an acceptable future DIL. Or friend at least.

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Just for a momentary change of pace, do you think this might be a hand... or a foot...??

The Spirit of the Tree, begging for mercy? Begging to get out?
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Easter weekend brought many (un)pleasant memories of my MIL. Though she is gone now, and I should be able to move on, I am constantly reminded of her, in little gestures and mannerisms of Gom.
I know it is unfair of me to resent these unconscious little things. However, I need to unload this cr^p, or it will eat me up.
I know it is not Gom's fault he reminds me of his mother. (Probably the happiest period of our marriage was when she overstepped the boundaries completely, and I banned her from my home, for about 5 years. I had several years of peace and harmony.) Had she been another person, I may have felt a rush of affection, on seeing reminders. The ugly truth is, I feel an irritated anger, & feel I possibly need counselling to deal with such thoughts. Or a large Voodoo Doll?? haha.
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Here is a photo of the Apron in Action! This young man loves to cook, and he is giving the apron a good workout.

The resultant stew, cooked in the slow cooker was declared a delicious success!

Here 'we' ( his lovely mother & I) are at the Blowhole. I was glad to see my blue top did not get splattered with food, but if you look closely, there appears to be some small animal attached to my bottom lip!

A friendly stranger offered to take our pic, so L offered her camera. People are generally friendly and very obliging on trips like this.

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Today's little adventure was not a pleasant experience for me. 

Yes, I know, here I go, flitting off the track again.  

I had to go for a Stress test  for my heart, having had a small 'episode', as they seem to be now known, about 8 weeks ago.    

Finally, after several cancellations- not mine- today was the day. It was hot, humid & very sticky. Ugly weather for anything...just breathing felt stressful!

Off goes Meggie, in her most loose, comfortable, cool!!,  clothes    

On arrival, I walked the 2.5 k to the center. OK I exaggerate, but it was the length of the block, almost!

I fervently hoped there was aircon, as I cannot stand exercise of any vigourous nature, nor can I breath in humid weather. 

ShockNo 1. I was required to strip to the waist- well shirt off, at least. This caused me some embarrassment, since I wore my most clapped & worn out bra- well they advised wearing comfortable clothing! Who could wear a new tidy bra?? They hurt like H#ll don't they??

So here I am, after being led out through an open Breezeway, to the now converted Double Garage Space which is to be the Stress Testing Zone. WHA???

I am sandpapered, vigourously, in various spots,  then have some several studs fitted to my person, which will be used to attach various monitor wires to be hooked up to machines. 

So here I stand in my partially naked state, waiting to meet the Doctor. He Introduces himself, trying not to look  too keenly at my partially undressed state. I would not want to gaze upon it either! 

I am instructed to lie on a bed for my 'resting heart rate' to be recorded. I am then further hooked up to wires, & studs, and told to mount the walking machine.

I might venture to say here, my heart is filled with dread. Such devices strike a primeval loathing within my being, & I immediately panic.

My blood pressure is taken. It is abnormally low, for me. The fear factor, I guarantee!!

Then they turn the walking torture  machine on. My legs resist the urge to fly out from under my body, backwards! I am instructed to take long slow strides. WTF, who can take slow strides on this hideous contraption?? I eventually 'Get the Stride' they tell me. 

Then as I struggle to breath, they, being the nurse and the Doctor, tell me they are stepping the speed and gradient up. 

I sweat like some navvy, and I gasp for breath, telling them, I cannot stand this heat, so they obligingly turn on a PEDESTAL FAN??? WTF?? What ever happened to aircon?? 

Finally the sweat on the handle bars begins to drip, I am so miserable I call for a halt! After all, I can barely breath, & I feel bloody minded, & hostile. 

Meantime blood pressure has been taken several times, and it is higher higher. 

I am released from torture.

I am led to a chair, where I gasp & heave.

Then I am told, "Well we didn't manage to get your heart rate up, so the Cardiologist may want more tests"

Over my dead body! I will not be going back for more, & would rather be dead~!

If it is heart-rate increase they want to measure, just come around here when I am trying to find previously available objects. GRRRR.

I know the signs are, Gom might well precede me. Some small signals tell me this may not be so.

He is on a diet in preparation for his big tests, so we are hoping we will get some answers to some of his problems.

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Our Easter was filled with Joy. We had family, and friends, and we enjoyed our company.

I had a call from a friend, Overseas, who would love to come to stay, so we look forward to that.

We also look forward to Overseas friends who are currently in OZ who may come to stay too.

Our Daylight Saving has ceased- for once it was the same weekend as NZ. I find I am ready for the sleep-in.

I don't know if this will work. I may have to start just suggesting music again.

This, if it posts, I love!

Jean Michel Jarre.

Genius.