Weird

..........Is the only word.


Last night Mr H and myself were visiting friends and after pud I suddenly jerked feeling the need to get home pretty damn quick.
And our evening was going so well too which made MY exit even more poignant and so with all concerned giving approval my mate drove me home where we found mum lying on the bathroom floor.

Did something supernatural occur? Was mum able to shoot her feelings along and up the road to where her daughter was? Or was I so concerned about her falling over again that I couldn't relax, not even with people I like?
The latter.

Woke this morning feeling as if the world, well my tiny portion of it, was falling to bits. But after a quick fleeting exchange of words mum and me thought it best if we stay in today. In the confines of the bungaloid. Me doing essentials, like ironing, laundry, re-arranging front room furniture, kitchen knick- knacks and making bread...
Essentials?
You betcha.
Because if I don't see some kind of beautiful order I'll go BANG!
She will read the magazines I've just bought...Woman & Home, Good Housekeeping.
Ironic ain't it?
Plush lush mags amidst chaos.

Prose Poem 2. Carer

Am faced with keyboard not knowing what to write.
"Write what you know" say publishing giants...
"Whose bones hurt most?" I thought, cradling mum's veined body
"Hers" said my half bent self
For I am lusty without failings , she, contorted, without identity.

Angela Norris


Had a bit of a day so decided to steam a couple of shop bought Steak and Kidney puddings instead of making my own.
For pud? Raspberry jelly inlaid with jewelled canned fruits!

:)

Oh Bother!

A fellow blogger recently asked 'Do you ever have those days where you wonder why you bother?'
And I piped up 'Yes, often'.
So then after a cup of tea I asked myself a question. "Birdbrain" I said "What in your life is worth bothering about?"
And this is what I came up with.
By the way another word for 'bother' is concern, so bear that in mind when reading my lists, it has, I feel, a sweeter warmer ring to it.

The Serious Stuff:
I'm concerned about not letting people down, it's anathema to me to be thought of as selfish.

I bother to show my gratitude for little courtesies shown to me. Such as the pleasant word from the trolley chap in Sainsburys.

I'm concerned about homeless people because I've been homeless.

I bother to make people feel at home. Otherwise why invite them in?

I bother to pick Mum and Dads brain's on just about everything because although I am a great creative woman I can also be an idiot.

I'm concerned about what Montys doing. If he's sleeping sweetly I worry in case he doesn't wake up and if he's got a sardine in his mouth whilst swinging from a lampshade I worry, because he's such a greedy fearless cat.


The Daft Stuff:
I bother with the England Football team. Still:(

I'm concerned about the weather. Rain splattered trousers in August isn't funny.

I bother to keep fit, so I can run after the bin men because they've dumped one of my bins half a mile down the road.

I'm concerned about the rings under my eyes. This is when the cucumber gets pulled out. From the fridge.

I bother to write poetry. Even when it's ignored by old people in bad clothes who wouldn't know poetry if it got wedged in their throats and choked them. I wish.

I'm concerned when Monty tackles me in the shower. His cap always comes off.

I bother with food. Cooking an Indian for others really satisfies me. I love tying people to chairs and force feeding them my giant chick pea pasties.

I'm concerned about Andy Murray. When is he going to learn to smile? :) Not today obviously 'cos he's just lost at the Olympics :(But he's a Brit so I feel for the lanky haggis. A bit.

I can't help but bother.
Bugger it.