Would you stuff your pet? If so, where would you keep Stuffie? Would Stuffie move into the old people’s home with you? Who would inherit Stuffie when you die?
People who walk around with vacant looks on their faces – do they have a moral responsibility to place a more intelligent expression on their faces for their companions and strangers passing by?
If two women approach a closed door, who holds the door open? Or Do they take it turn about? What is the etiquette?
Why are cars always called “she”? Why are boats christened “and may Big Whatever bless all who sail in HER? Why female gender?
Who decided Australia is “down under” and not “up above”?
Important stuff, people, important stuff…
I have been battling with this damn respiratory infection for almost six weeks now and while the coughing is finally abating, I am still deaf in my left ear.
Monday I went to a country doctor who said there was a build up of wax and instructed the nurse to irrigate my ears. which she did with gusto, before jettisoning me out of the surgery even though I said I still couldn’t hear.
Miffed I drove into the city after school for a consultation with my city doctor sure she would have a solution. Oh yes, she said there is a build up of fluid in both ears… just keep doing what you have been doing and it may take A COUPLE OF WEEKS to clear.
Excuse me? A couple of weeks.
Did I mention that I am a teacher? I need to be able to hear clearly.
“Oh steam up the bathroom when you are having a shower and continue taking the antihistamines, if you want… bye”
Pay at the desk.
I was deep within a very happy dream – I was at a party for someone who seemed to look like George Bush SENIOR (in the news this week with his bald pate) – when suddenly someone started punching me. Around about the third hit I woke up and realised it was happening for real!
It was Mr FD! Mr FD was punching me in the forehead in his sleep! Luckily it was kind of side on as he was lying on his back and so not able to punch with his full strength.
“Mr FD! Mr FD! Stop! You’re punching me!” I yelled.
He was full of apology when he realised what he had done. In his dream he had been told to wait his moment and then to attack, and so he did just that, attack. Except it was me!
So in a crazy way, his dream and my dream merged. Do you think we have been married too long?
Should I order a safety helmet?
[Mr FD is booked to go to a sleep clinic shortly]
This guy was breakfasting in our garden this morning. I noticed a couple of the trees are starting their spring bloom even though it is another month until spring. I guess I am not the only one looking forward to the end of winter.
I drove to the city and visited with Petite Fille and her parents today. I had been banned from crossing the threshold these past five weeks in case I brought my plague with me. In the meantime, my precious grand daughter has grown so big – she is five months old now.
Not only has she had her first solids – an array of colourful vegetables, this week orange beetroot will be added – but she now rolls like a pro, does a mighty rendition of a push-up trying to crawl and is not far off sitting up solo. She also sings and talks in her baby talk (and still says ‘hello’).
I thought she might be wary of me, because six weeks absence is a large chunk of her little life, and she was a little shy for the first few minutes, but I just took it slowly and by the end of the visit we were back to playing together. We also learnt to waltz about the living room as Grandma murdered “The Tennessee Waltz” which my mother used to sing to us! Well, I did the waltzing and Petite Fille did the tolerating.
Time and grandchildren wait for no woman it seems. And you know, the little things in life, such a grandchildren, really are the best.
The selfish things I wish for most often (in no particular order):
That I didn’t have to work to survive.
That I had more energy
That my Dad was still here and my Mum didn’t have dementia
That I had a healthy immune system
That I had married rich (sort of goes with the having to work to eat and have a roof over my head)
That I could put Tony Abbott, Julie Bishop and Christopher Pyne (politicians) in a leaky boat and head it and them into a cyclone
That my children and now grandchild didn’t have to experience pain of body or soul
That the world recognized my greatness
Driving to work I really, really, wanted to give a bully driver the finger. I had to remember that two wrongs don’t make a right, and think about Petit Fille to control my natural instincts. I was wearing pearls as well, and a woman wearing pearls never raises the finger.
As we all know, she renders punishment with a stick. I used the white light to send bad karma his way too. No one bullies the Flamingo Dancer.