Avon lady. Hurry up. I need starry amethyst glitter on my eyelids.

Lady in Co-Op. You were so friendly. Uplifting. Big thank you. Reduced cucumber sticker not getting you down.

Soda bread rolls. To make. Can't wait. Bread making, the ultimate tranquillizer.

Secondhand recipe book (50p) all Christmas food around the globe. Something thick I can dive into. And wallow in. Possible new found friend. I like thick friends.

Cod Burgers. Baked Fish cakes on top of little Gem lettuce crowned with low fat mayo, shredded cu and paper thin sliced tomato. Buttered Soda rolls to hold the lot.

Snooker. Hoo Hah over Mark Allen's comments still causing a stir. He's right. Barry Hearne. Big Beast and quite common. If he tinkers with the World Championship, I fear a massive walk-out...Not really:) Change is inevitable, even in snooker but to mess wid it has upset my tummy and view on things. Is nothing sacred?
Doughnut (s). Bought yesterday. Could be stale. But will risk it.
Tea. Endless sloshes of the blooming stuff. Tea is my alcohol.

Tiny brown click top purse (30p) embossed with a lady and gentleman. Deutsche looking. Mini holdall for munny.

Now I must go back into The Room. Where Mother slopes and which the cat avoids:(

Cheerio!

TRUMP V. ROBERTSON. NOW. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!

I'm as high as a kite.
What has brought this on I have no idea.
Or maybe a little bit of an idea.
Love. In all its forms.

Is it Buddhists who say that to lose 'self' is the finest thing of all.
Well I've kind of lost my 'self'.
Holding up Mother has taken away most of my self-interest, and that can't be bad. NO longer is my every day all about me, what I wear or eat or who I text. Putting mum up has dismissed life as I knew it.


There's tremendous freedom in being encased in others.
I'm free to lose me.
And that's no bad thing.

This post is all about me ;)
Some things never change...

The Snooker Championship is on!
And a Hoorah for that!

Just been watching Dominic Dale playing the impossibly named Judd Trump. I love Dale but his hairstyle ages him, say about 40 years, meanwhile Uber cool Trump looks exactly what he is...a kid!
I can't begin to say how glad I am that there's an old pal in my drawing room, always loved watching it and rooting for someone or other...Nothing quite soothes like something familiar.

Ronnie O'Sullivan knocked out Davis yesterday, I knew that because I caught bits of it in between doing my nursing duities. More on that later...Back in the 8o's Davis was my main man, always cool under pressure and always pleasant to watch unlike O'Sullivan who, to me, is the worst kind of 'sportsman' tetchy and precious and sometimes downright rude.
Never gracious in defeat and under the tuf nut bravado, a bit of a mummy's boy.
No, O'Sullivan is not on my 'must watch' list.

Talking of must watch lists...
After a long chat with mum's GP we both decided that it's best she stays here with me until her legs get better.
His choices for her were blunt. She either becomes a part-time Essex girl or gets hospitalized. Going home is not an option.
Legs too weak, brain ok, likelihood of a fall high. So with us she stays.
I've already got her on my GP's books where today she had some blood tests , now I/we wait...Her Gp will talk with my GP and decide on course of action. Surely the Queen couldn't be better cared for. Half the bloody country is rooting for her now she has to do her bit and abide my my rules.
And do everything the medics say. Otherwise she'll be in for a very black Christmas:)

I have a million things still to do today, one of them being the rearranging of furniture, always a joy...
I have a mad desire for space and air and light and leg room.
Other mad desires are:
In no particular order:

Ink pen.
Gyrations on the dance floor.
Gyrations on any floor.

Now I must shift the sofa whilst packing up mother on a chair whilst watching snooker whilst thinking about meatballs whilst thinking about Sweeties...


:) :) :)

Night Time Trip

Tonight's covering sky is no different to any other sky
'cept, this blackblue air keeps me from shooting, powering myself into outer heaven
that
warm endless marshmallow slumberville where humans without wings
flatter Angels with their charm
where immortals hobnob with flying spirits
and where tribes of fiery folk sip water from blessed palms
I would, if I could, surrender to this palace of knowledge
this home of the laughing dead
But I am here foot solid on earth
looking through dusty blinds up to the sky.

Come and join the Party

Update from this mornings post...

Talking in advert breaks isn't exactly the way to make plans for life.
But we discussed and came quietly to a half-cocked agreement.
She'd do the sensible thing and open her mouth to her GP and I would continue to fume:)
Not really fume. Just get slightly warm over her recent unwillingness to make a legitimate fuss over health issues.
Got to speak up Mother. If you don't bother, who will?
So tomorrow we will go back to London to do blood tests and chat informally with doc about pencil thin legs and vomit.

My beef casserole is coming along nicely.

And so, with fingers crossed that Mr H. gets home at a decent time (arrived last night an hour late) I'll cheerily natter whilst serving beef soaked dumplings and grape jelly:)

A quick after thought...Jeremy Clarkson is not my cup of tea. His juvenile antics leave me wishing he'd feel the force of poverty or better still, a run in with a decent bout of depression.

Cheerio.

Dairy of a Carer
Day 985...



Last night. Late.
Sandwiched between settee and coffee table.
The little lady lay.
Skeletal.
But arms of son-in-law and hands of child
soon have mama propped.

A decent little poetical effort and so soon after chat about night-time spectres...

My cough, by the way, kept everyone awake:)

After making myself some water based porridge I gave mum a big bowl of fat milked cornflakes, which, I have to say, aren't a patch on any other cereal. Lack guts, muscle I think. Ok for snacking on, maybe while watching an afternoon movie or playing footsie with a man. At any rate cornflakes suck.

I will, as the day 'progresses', feel more human and humane, she can't help feeling the way she does nor can she do much about it so I and maybe others will prop and medicate till her legs have bones again.


Now I must fly:)