Aaaah what is this life is full of care we have no time to stand and stare.
Stand and stare?
What I wouldn't give to be able just to stand, let alone stare.
...On Monday morning mum phoned, she had fallen over and cut her head. Oh dear. So I talked her through what to do and what not to do, meanwhile Mr H and I phoned 999 as we made haste to London in a taxi...
We arrived at her place to find a mess, blood and no mum.
So back into the taxi to St Mary's.
On arrival we found the tough little bird bandaged and hungry and chomping to be released.
But our wonderful NHS had other ideas.
Had you been drinking they asked...It's the first thing they think of when someone falls. PFO is the medical term. You work it out. NO she hadn't been imbibing just tripped on the loose carpet, which is now history!
Why are you wobbly? Er...old age, diabetes, stick thin legs
Are you on any medication? He, he, he, what I don't swallow aint worth taking.
After exhaustive tests they found her to be anaemic with one of her kidney's not quite up to scratch. Her treasure chest of prescription drugs caused ripples of laughs, mainly down to me of course...How I love to make jokes when I'm scared witless.
Her cornucopia of meds weren't quite cutting the mustard so changes have been made, hopefully we'll see a little improvement.
So.... they stitched her head, gave her a bed and discharged her last night...She is now back in the community.
A sweet and sour friend of mine drove us all the way home to Essex where little mum is now propped up with murder tv and baked beans..
It just gets better and better :(
What this pocket rocket wants/needs/craves is Champagne, steak and kissing.
Maybe if I had stitches........................:)
Showing posts with label Families. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Families. Show all posts
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Thursday, 20 August 2009
My London Day
Mum said she had some bad news.
And that she doesn't want to talk about it.
Dad said she was over reacting again.
Dad said she always over reacts. But that he has to do as she says.
Last week a man came to their door professing to be my dad's nephew. This man said his name was 'David' and that he was the son of my dad's sister Pauline. Neither me nor my parents have seen or heard from Pauline since about 1974.
Being a Londoner and living in flat on the sixth floor my dad didn't ask the man inside, instead he talked through an open bathroom window relaying the information back to a frantic mum. She said he wasn't to come in and that if dad did let him in then she'd walk out.
The man stayed on the balcony.
After a lengthy conversation 'David', who was in his forties according to dad, said that he'd been looking for his mum for many years and could they give him any information on her whereabouts.
No was the short pitiful answer.
My dad hasn't seen any of his sisters for 28 years, the last time they all came together was for the two-faced funeral of my paternal Grandad. And after the mock sorrow affair in 1981 all communication was voluntarily severed.
Over the roaring traffic noise 'David' said he'd recently found out that one of my dad's sisters, Shirley, had died. She was about 68. Was about 68...That's rather sad isn't it? Not knowing that your sister has died and being unsure about her age.
He went on to name the other sisters and as dad went back and forth from the bathroom to the living room telling mum all this she still insisted that this man must not come in.
He didn't come in.
What he did was say how lonely he was and that he'd like to keep in touch. He handed over his address and mobile number and said it'd be nice if they kept in touch.
Today Dad sat on the arm of the armchair spilling out all this stuff whilst gently condemning mum for not allowing the stranger in.
He knew the names of all of dad's sisters and the name of Shirley's husband. He knew facts about where they'd all previously lived, street names, town names etc...Mum was vehement that absolutely no contact must be made with anyone. No phone calls or emails or anything like that
I asked dad what happened next. And what happened next was that 'David' returned a few days later with more information and still the door was closed on him.
About Pauline:
I only met her a few times when I was growing up. She had hair as black as coal and had her son son adopted...At one time she was in Holloway nick and at other times she was at Butlins. She got involved with an older Spanish man who was quite smitten with her. At my cousin Patsy's 18th birthday party Pauline told the Spaniard to "go and get me a colour telly you bastard. She was the salt of the earth. She got her telly.
About Shirley:
Shirley was my aunt, and despite being my aunt I never really knew her. All I remember was that she was loud and loaned money to people for a price. She went to the bingo with her housekeeping money and cooked a lot of sausages. She was a lazy woman who never did a days work in her life and in the late 1960's moved house because she'd fallen out with a neighbour over an apple tree. She liked her two sons but slapped her daughter around the head a lot. Her daughter Patsy, my bubbly cousin, died suddenly a couple of years ago of a brain haemorrhage. She was 50, we found out about this via an old family friend.
When mum was making some tea I asked dad if he'd contact 'David' he said he'd send him a Christmas card.
Would you?
And that she doesn't want to talk about it.
Dad said she was over reacting again.
Dad said she always over reacts. But that he has to do as she says.
Last week a man came to their door professing to be my dad's nephew. This man said his name was 'David' and that he was the son of my dad's sister Pauline. Neither me nor my parents have seen or heard from Pauline since about 1974.
Being a Londoner and living in flat on the sixth floor my dad didn't ask the man inside, instead he talked through an open bathroom window relaying the information back to a frantic mum. She said he wasn't to come in and that if dad did let him in then she'd walk out.
The man stayed on the balcony.
After a lengthy conversation 'David', who was in his forties according to dad, said that he'd been looking for his mum for many years and could they give him any information on her whereabouts.
No was the short pitiful answer.
My dad hasn't seen any of his sisters for 28 years, the last time they all came together was for the two-faced funeral of my paternal Grandad. And after the mock sorrow affair in 1981 all communication was voluntarily severed.
Over the roaring traffic noise 'David' said he'd recently found out that one of my dad's sisters, Shirley, had died. She was about 68. Was about 68...That's rather sad isn't it? Not knowing that your sister has died and being unsure about her age.
He went on to name the other sisters and as dad went back and forth from the bathroom to the living room telling mum all this she still insisted that this man must not come in.
He didn't come in.
What he did was say how lonely he was and that he'd like to keep in touch. He handed over his address and mobile number and said it'd be nice if they kept in touch.
Today Dad sat on the arm of the armchair spilling out all this stuff whilst gently condemning mum for not allowing the stranger in.
He knew the names of all of dad's sisters and the name of Shirley's husband. He knew facts about where they'd all previously lived, street names, town names etc...Mum was vehement that absolutely no contact must be made with anyone. No phone calls or emails or anything like that
I asked dad what happened next. And what happened next was that 'David' returned a few days later with more information and still the door was closed on him.
About Pauline:
I only met her a few times when I was growing up. She had hair as black as coal and had her son son adopted...At one time she was in Holloway nick and at other times she was at Butlins. She got involved with an older Spanish man who was quite smitten with her. At my cousin Patsy's 18th birthday party Pauline told the Spaniard to "go and get me a colour telly you bastard. She was the salt of the earth. She got her telly.
About Shirley:
Shirley was my aunt, and despite being my aunt I never really knew her. All I remember was that she was loud and loaned money to people for a price. She went to the bingo with her housekeeping money and cooked a lot of sausages. She was a lazy woman who never did a days work in her life and in the late 1960's moved house because she'd fallen out with a neighbour over an apple tree. She liked her two sons but slapped her daughter around the head a lot. Her daughter Patsy, my bubbly cousin, died suddenly a couple of years ago of a brain haemorrhage. She was 50, we found out about this via an old family friend.
When mum was making some tea I asked dad if he'd contact 'David' he said he'd send him a Christmas card.
Would you?
Friday, 1 August 2008
My London Day
London was cool!
London was wet!
And I was dressed like an elderly lukewarm commando.
Hauling a big green shopping bag loaded with magazines and chocolate cake, I bang banged my way along those rough dangerous old streets till I got to genteel Gloucester Terrace, till I set my sodden silly summer shoes on Mum and Dads bad mats.
Dad is morphing into a Toby Jug and Mum is giggling more whilst wearing azure blue eye shadow and pyjamas.
I'm thinking Hmmmmm!
Interesting.
As I perched on the edge of a hazardous old chair Dad climbed up onto his soapbox and I sang out 'Let the rant begin'.
He didn't let me down.
Mum cooked a large microwaved serves two spaghetti and prawn thing for my lunch. She forgot the knife and fork, the napkin and water. I said nothing just sat quietly gobbling me pasta with a tea spoon and as I tried to catch a prawn I proffered comments like 'Yes that's right' and 'I know, it's awful isn't it?'
And as the clouds gathered for a second time I thought isn't this wonderful?
London was wet!
And I was dressed like an elderly lukewarm commando.
Hauling a big green shopping bag loaded with magazines and chocolate cake, I bang banged my way along those rough dangerous old streets till I got to genteel Gloucester Terrace, till I set my sodden silly summer shoes on Mum and Dads bad mats.
Dad is morphing into a Toby Jug and Mum is giggling more whilst wearing azure blue eye shadow and pyjamas.
I'm thinking Hmmmmm!
Interesting.
As I perched on the edge of a hazardous old chair Dad climbed up onto his soapbox and I sang out 'Let the rant begin'.
He didn't let me down.
Mum cooked a large microwaved serves two spaghetti and prawn thing for my lunch. She forgot the knife and fork, the napkin and water. I said nothing just sat quietly gobbling me pasta with a tea spoon and as I tried to catch a prawn I proffered comments like 'Yes that's right' and 'I know, it's awful isn't it?'
And as the clouds gathered for a second time I thought isn't this wonderful?
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Poetry Club 1
The Saturday Poetry Club
I'll be posting poems and automatic writings every Saturday.
If anyone wants to submit their poem, however simple or elaborate, please feel free to do so in the comments section of this post.
You don't need to leave your name.
Rubbing It In
The silence of a well kept room
only made worse Betty's loneliness.
*****************************************
Savage Family
In the jungle of his playroom
five year old Tommy rode a tiny tiger
his flawless hands squeezing the giant teddy
and riding with the beasts he was fearless.
In the jungle of her kitchen
thirty year old Maudie sat astride her breakfast stool
her parched hands holding her lovers last letter
and weeping she listened to Tommy
In the jungle of his office
thirty five year old Michael gazed at girls
his empty hands tapping out a love song
and lost he sketched wonderful escape plans.
In their jungle house high up on the hills of Wittering
the family nested...
***************************************************************
Birds of a Feather
The boy down the road
the one with the funny legs
skipped
when the girl down the road
the one with the funny arms
waved.
*********************************************
Garden
Nuts on a plate
A flower growing crooked
cracks in the pipe
that's my garden.
***********************************************
Surprise
Suddenly I swallowed a light
it fairly took my breath from me
its crackling sweetness
soothing my rancid throat.
***********************************************
Needs Not Manners
The squirrel without manners or thought
crash landed on the delicate bird table
its contents the squirrels breakfast.
And like a starving man he scooped every nut and seed
and pocketed a few for later in his day.
****************************************************************
Friends
Little Tilly's head left a dent in the ceiling
when big Roger made her laugh.
They spent the afternoon looking up...
*****************************************************************
I'll be posting poems and automatic writings every Saturday.
If anyone wants to submit their poem, however simple or elaborate, please feel free to do so in the comments section of this post.
You don't need to leave your name.
Rubbing It In
The silence of a well kept room
only made worse Betty's loneliness.
*****************************************
Savage Family
In the jungle of his playroom
five year old Tommy rode a tiny tiger
his flawless hands squeezing the giant teddy
and riding with the beasts he was fearless.
In the jungle of her kitchen
thirty year old Maudie sat astride her breakfast stool
her parched hands holding her lovers last letter
and weeping she listened to Tommy
In the jungle of his office
thirty five year old Michael gazed at girls
his empty hands tapping out a love song
and lost he sketched wonderful escape plans.
In their jungle house high up on the hills of Wittering
the family nested...
***************************************************************
Birds of a Feather
The boy down the road
the one with the funny legs
skipped
when the girl down the road
the one with the funny arms
waved.
*********************************************
Garden
Nuts on a plate
A flower growing crooked
cracks in the pipe
that's my garden.
***********************************************
Surprise
Suddenly I swallowed a light
it fairly took my breath from me
its crackling sweetness
soothing my rancid throat.
***********************************************
Needs Not Manners
The squirrel without manners or thought
crash landed on the delicate bird table
its contents the squirrels breakfast.
And like a starving man he scooped every nut and seed
and pocketed a few for later in his day.
****************************************************************
Friends
Little Tilly's head left a dent in the ceiling
when big Roger made her laugh.
They spent the afternoon looking up...
*****************************************************************
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