Dear Mum

Early part of the day...Blissful.
Latter, not so.

Umpteen tasks to be done meticulously or not at all and all at break-neck speed. Reason being I was stressed beyond belief by Mum's needs. And therefore needed perfection in all I did. Wholewheat rolls turned out well. She had one with slivers of cold bacon. I had one with blackcurrant jam leaning against the sink watching pigeons. I like pressing my hips against the sink, it's the coldness. When out-of-my-tree with fed-upness I feel everything a millionfold. And so it was that when I leant, pressing my hips and tum into the spotless silver sink I wanted sex. Not of the avarian kind you'll be glad to hear. But with a man without face. Just a body would suffice.
Such is the power of the mind that even one as screwed as mine still has the capacity for filth on a major scale. I think death is to blame.

Mother.
Love you darling but your bathroom mishap (non-radiator related) coming just as I settled down to watch Maguire v. Carter was plain shitty. And so badly timed. My heart's jumping dear, can't you see it banging against my chest. I want to do what I did last year namely to eat digestives unencumbered by rubber gloves and lavender floor wash.
I bit my threadbare tongue because she's not to blame. For anything. But being on my feet constantly is taking its toll, matey.
Tea. Orange juice. Usually spilled. Lost tablets. Mad with pain. Annoyed with doctors/David Cameron/God.
"I could kill God for what he's done".

What could I say to that?

£10 on magazines won't bring daddy back.

Mr H was late home tonight on account of going to mum's flat to collect her post.

Now she's cursing the tv licensing people and B.T.

In her failing yet still beautiful blue eyes I see very little except a lostness.
The lostness of wife-hood.
She looked small in the bed and as Maguire and Carter slugged it out (good match) I said to her without trumpets or sarcasm "Give it all to me"
I wasn't referring to the letters.




Night Night:)

Bag O' Bits

After doing the doc/shop/chemist run I took myself OUT of the task related arena and sped along to the charity shop, where a Glenda Jackson lookey-likey manned the till.

Wasn't in there long.
But long enough m'dears to find'n buy

1 squashy cream coloured cushion with apple green foliage detail. Perfect for resting my head as I sunbathe on the new bench. Will seat two though. Mustn't hog it. 50p

1 pair of unused Pretty Polly Hold-Ups in Black. 50p. Packet creased, contents flat as a pancake. Can't wait to wear.

1 pair of beige evening gloves. Long with ruffles. Decadence for 50p.

1 pair of Calvin Klein Boxer Shorts. For me to wear when feeling sporty. Could prove interesting given time and opportunity. 50p.

1 small box of Lavender Bath Salts. 20p.


And as Glenda Jackson packed the gloves into the pants she secreted away an info leaflet about Hawkwell Baptist Church.

"£2:20 for your bag of bits" said smiling Christian Glenda

"Many thanks" said bad bitch I leaving the shop feeling well satisfied.


Cooking today:

Odds and ends.

Fluffy Haired Afternoon.
New Garden Bench With Bird Detail.
Boiled Bacon.


My Life.
Today.

But Who Knows About Tomorrow...

Coiffured Barnet A.M.
Used Troughs.
Lentils.

Ain't Life Wonderful?

Fusilli a la Desperate

Mum fancies some pasta but not a bolog.
So I made some cheese sauce then mixed in corn, petit pois and cooked pasta shapes (wholewheat fusilli).
And to add dazzle I've topped it with grated cheddar and smashed cheese and onion crisps.


Will serve as soon as Mr H. returns with Garden Bench...

Saw Roy Hodgson's press conference.
Looks avuncular. Sounds a bit Dutch.
Good luck mate!

Wednesday 2nd May 2012

Some days are so-so
others downright awful
a few not too bad
but
rarely do I have days like today

Blissful.
Enchanted.
Happy.

Big Smile...

Oh the Joy!

Of seeing mum sitting at the kitchen table enjoying leek soup.
First time for months.

Of watching snooker whilst baking an apple and almond cake.

Of checking the News 24 whilst making a beef cobbler. Wot no snooker?

Of watching snooker while concocting a Mandarin Rice Supreme!

Of planting up some violas in a big container on the kitchen table whilst...John Virgo commentates on...the snooker!
Kitchen table a veritable dust dump.

Re-organizing spice and herb jars whilst.....Ronnie O'Sullivan and Neil Robertson size each other up. Very tentative playing from both boys. One slip....

Ironing still creased.
Dust still lying untouched.
Cat not beat up.

But feeling totally relaxed in the bosom of the bungalow.

Now I must fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Slowly
:)

As I went about doing odds and ends I spotted a Robin.

Each time he gathered..... twigs, blades of wet grass and other natural homemaking bits of kit from the surface of my soaked sodden lawn and cracked uneven patio. Even diving under an old chair to claim more wood.

When he had enough he'd dart quickly back to the space he called Home. Namely a deep dark crack in one of the newly pruned Conifers.
It was sweet and humbling watching the industrious little fellow, no crying over cost or colours just a feisty wee thing making a nest for his family.

I need to make a grocery list now, then make a Cobbler, then 'do' mum, then re-arrange the bed, c then empty the trough under the leaking radiator, then iron clothes, then organise my recipe books...

I wonder how the Robin and I fare against each other in the race to make a decent home.

Weathers being beastly again.