I am such a blank space tonight. I wish I was a blank page, which in my opinion is preferable, because it somehow means there is some intent there, somewhere to go, something of value. A blank space is just that, b-l-a-n-k s-p-a-c-e. Nobody home.
Perhaps the grey cells have escaped, leaving a vacuum of blankety spaceyness. A cosmos of black holed nothingness. Amen.
I shall take myself out of your misery. Away, Away.
Brisbane had its coldest winter morning in over 100 years this morning. Our Village is always colder than Brisbane in winter and usually hotter in summer. Lucky us. I didn’t peep my nose out form under the blankets until 9am and then only because I knewI needed to clean floors for Petite Fille’s visit tomorrow. Nothing like a visiting floor dwelling toddler to get floors cleaned!
Augie Dog appeared to me miss while I was away, and has been over excited ever since I returned yesterday. He can be quite enthusiastic in his love, and may I add that having a 40kg golden retriever land on my cold, bare foot is not one of my favourite experiences. He still garnered a slice of peanut butter toast for breakfast though. It is that GR face, and his all encompassing love!
Son pruned the shrubs at the front of the house during my absence. Some of them had grown to roof level and do provide some nice shade in summer, but as this is the dead of winter it is a good time to cut back and allow the afternoon sun to warm the living room. Our house is double brick walls, and we are finding that there is usually an 8 degree difference between interior and outside, which is something to be thankful for in winter!
The shrub branches were mulched and spread under the fruit trees, which were fertilised as well. Spring should be fruitful! Our lime, orange, mandarin and lemon trees are all doing well, and hopefully will grow to good fruiting size this season. It is wonderful when Son is on a break from university as he spends his time in the garden. I suspect that in another life he may have been a landscape gardener, but for now IT is his career path.
Mr FD is still suffering post wisdom tooth discomfort and it must be over a month now, but I am happy, ecstatic! to say that the pain is lessening, and he is slowly improving, though it had been a long haul, especially for me! It is a year since his knee surgery and we appear to have done little except sort out niggling health issues for him ever since. A high maintenance Mr FD!
Another frosty night forecast, so I need to encourage MR FD into bringing in some wood for the fire…
Feeling a little bit not me, today. I am not sure who I am, perhaps you, which wold explain everything… or not.
The phone rang twice today – incredible need to rise to niceness.
First call was my sister to report on her preemie granddaughter who will be four weeks old on Tuesday. She now weighs 3 lbs. The baby, not my sister. Is still having a little air to support her breathing, and small doses of caffeine to help her remind her to breath (I think that was the explanation). I wonder if she is going to demand morning coffee in her bottle? All going well though for Mum and Bub, though sister is yet to meet her fourth grandchild as she has had a chest infection and therefore banned from the hospital. Good things are worth waiting for though.
Second call was from Daughter2 who arrived home from 6 weeks in Europe. It was the first time I had heard her voice in about 7 weeks so I was a wee bit excited. They had a grand vacation, and I am sure would have missed me if they had just remembered me, but such is the mother’s lot. I have been told that they won’t be with us for Christmas Day this year, as they will be with Boyfriend’s parents, which is fair enough, but, but – this is me! She is rejoicing in that she won’t have to assist with Christmas this year, just be a guest, and I thought, wow, that would be nice… ah well, be careful what we wish for, right?
Neighbour’s Daughter met Augie Dog and asked if she could take him for a walk, and Mr FD said YES! He didn’t warn her about how STRONG a 40kg golden retriever can be – and is, or that Augie Dog makes up his own mind on where he will or won’t walk. Then again, Augie, loves the girls so may just be a meek little puppy. Don’t lay money on that though.
So, how is your day? Any suggestions on who I might be channelling today and how do I send them back?
More dressing, more hair combing. What is the use of burying oneself in the country if one must keep being civilised?
Drove with Mr FD to his periodontist in the hope he could relieve Mr FD’s continuing post wisdom teeth removal agony. No sympathy, no help. Periodontist is now top of the Stick List.
Visit to pharmacy who did not have adequate supplies in stock of very common medications. Not the first time this has happened. Have to return tomorrow to collect remainder of medication. ANNOYED.
Home. Headache remains, swollen and very painful glands along jaw and in neck. Is it Ebola?
In bed, bright red heat bag wrapped around neck for comfort, except it isn’t comforting. Have cancelled intended visit by Daughter1 and Petite Fille in case something infectious. Had to settle for conversation over phone, “What does a pussy cat say?” “Meow” [I ask the question, Petite Fille says the Meow. How could you think otherwise?]
The Big Whatever is still not playing fair, but does the Big Whatever ever play fair?
Too much raucous holiday enjoyment for you, The Big Whatever? Had to strike me down with a headache, didn’t you? Hardly playing fair.
Tomorrow is another day.
At the end of last year I know I purchased a new, 2014 diary for work. Day to a page, small enough to fit into a large handbag, but large enough for To Do lists, notes on students and summaries of meetings.
I thought I left it on my desk in my locked office on the last day of school 2013, but I returned this week and can not find it. I can’t find the notebook I thought I purchased as its companion either.
Does this mean I have lost control of the year already?
“You may want to keep a commonplace book which is a notebook where you can copy parts of books you think are in code, or take notes on a series of events you may have observed that are suspicious, unfortunate, or very dull. Keep your commonplace book in a safe place, such as underneath your bed, or at a nearby dairy.”
Lemony Snicket, Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Autobiography
No New Year’s resolutions this year, except to live a good life and to be of some help to others. I have come to the opinion that new year resolutions and the modern form of self-flagellation; for why would an arbitrary turning of the calendar, an artificial construct at that , bring us to wrought a change that we have no considered worthy in the months just past?
For in the words of Cyril Connolly, “If our elaborate and dominating bodies are given to us to be denied at every turn, if our nature is always wrong and wicked, how ineffectual we are—like fishes not meant to swim.”
Sunday and Son is out working in our large garden doing the heavy work for me. Mr FD is having a Sunday snooze before he has to go to the city and work on preparing his parents house for sale. I am obviously writing this post, with Augie Dog snoozing at my feet, and wandering how to gather the strength for another week. Shortly, I will spend time with my mother in her twilight zone, making no mention of the sadness that we share.
Last week was such a physical and emotional roller coaster on the work and family front. Each day I woke not sure what day it was but secure in the knowledge that I had to perform, perform, perform.
This week will be spent waiting for the phone call that we are all dreading, summoning us to my sister’s side. The clock ticks on.
I think I need a long visit with Petit Fille. I need one of her open mouthed kissing licks that only an eight month old can gift. I need to sit on the floor and squeak toys and cuddle on the couch to read books. I need to drink tea from large cups with her mother and remember how very, very lucky we have all been and how for a very long time we had it all.
I have always considered myself as a resilient, stoic individual. Give me a day or two and I bounce back from most things, but on Friday I just found that impossible. The alarm went off at the usual time to rise for the school day, and all I could do was weep into my pillow. I knew that I couldn’t trust myself to drive the 40 minute drive to the school. Mr FD offered support, offered to drive me to and fro, but his words just made me weep more. I could not console myself, nor have anyone console me.
I knew I needed help and so Mr FD drove me back to the city to see my doctor of the past ten years. She listened and I teared up and this is where I wonder about the help people in real need receive. My doctor was understanding and suggested I see a counsellor, and perhaps she could give me something to help me sleep over the next couple of days BUT time restraints meant I had to make a longer appointment at another time, as soon as I could, to do a more complete mental health assessment.
So, if I was deeply, seriously, suicidal how would I have coped? Just gone out and lied down in the traffic?
I am not that deep and I have faith in myself that I will work my way out of this dark spot in a day, or a week, or a month, but what of others who are further down? It is difficult enough to get out of bed and present to someone your feelings and emotions to then experience “your time is up!”
I don’t blame the doctor, and I guess I could have said I needed a longer appointment when I phoned though as I said, I haven’t been thinking all that clearly to plan that well.
To me, it is just a symptom of our dysfunctional society where everything is a commodity that is allotted and priced, and inequities maintained. How do we reach out and support those without resources, without support, without resilience or stoicism or any of the terms we use for “getting a grip” or “bouncing back”? Or is it, now more than ever, a case of “physician heal thy self” – do it alone? Maybe that is why the self-help industry is a billion dollar industry!