Mummy at the School Gate

Now...I like writing in my office. I like to sit down with my cuppa and ponder my world for a few minutes (possibly for a few hours after I play a few games of Candy crush...eek!). I could sit in there all day if my life didn't drag me away...but I just don't get the chance! No sooner am I lost in something  really, really, really important or am in the middle of the masterpiece, I'm thwarted! Yes, you've heard it. Thwarted!  Not by the kids (and don't they know better than to interrupt mummy's  'mummy time'? Yes they do!) , not by BH, who knows that something very important is going on behind that door, and not by the phone ( just ignore it) but by the large brown bear called Peewee! He stands at the door screeching! Yes...Peewee displays vocal abilities in all manners! Peewee is a talker. More than that he's a crier. A wailer and a moaner! Baby Bear (yes, I was forced into getting another brother for the brother of another mother) on the othe

My Dad is strong, fearless and brave. Those were the opening words of my eulogy for my Dad and those were the words I'd written in my exercise book when I was 8 years old. It was accompanied by a picture of Batman...another hero. There are not enough words to describe him. I said that too. How can you condense a persons life into  a few paragraphs? When I sat down to write his eulogy I found I couldn't stop. I had my memories and I wanted everyone to know what a great man he was. It was easy, because I knew and loved him. Losing a parent when you're an adult is strange feeling. As you get older you know the inevitable is going to happen but you consign it to the back of your mind in the hope you'll deal with it. Fleeting ideas pass through your mind. How would one parent cope without the other, or how would you cope without one of them? The little things they do as they get older is a reminder of their mortality. The general loss of confidence as they get o

Well..I thought the last post was the break in my 'block'...but it appears it wasn't!  Not that it matters. Shit comes in all sizes and I've had a colon full this year.   I couldn't remember my password as it's been so long, neither could I remember the email address I used. Useless, that's me.  Anyhow, I've found my way back, so for me at least, that's a good thing. I'd hate for it to be lost in cyber world and I'd hate for all the words to mean nothing. I've been away so long that I've forgotten how it all works. I've forgotten about Twitter and I've forgotten about Facebook. It became so complicated, especially when Google decided to change its method of feeding the feeds and all of that complicated stuff so I decided I'd really had enough.  Following someone because they followed me, just to get a few more views. Working out the best ways to get read and to promote the blog. For what?  It really became pointless aft

I know you're not really that interested but I've been busy dismantling my life.   A bit dramatic, you think? Hmmm..maybe that's not quite accurate. OK, in that case I've been painting.  I've been painting everything!  I've painted the kitchen, I've painted the bathroom, I've painted some picture frames and I've painted some jolly nice hearts!  You see, I've had bloggers block for a while.  I'd sit at the blank screen of the computer...and sit...and sit...smoke a fag...sit...make a coffee...sit.  It's made me feel practically useless so instead of just staring at the blank screen I thought maybe I should get creative.  I'm pretty good at painting. Not so good at sewing. Baking makes me fat...and exercising? Well, that just makes me tired. So yes...I've had bloggers block ( I admit it!) and I felt (and still feel) that I didn't/don't have one original thought in my head!  Not one single one! Nothing I have to say is ve

Okay, so we all like a little rant now and again. I'm good with that. It's fine.  It's normal. Isn't it what Facebook is for after all? Something annoys you so you have a little rant and release all that pent up angst and fury.   Keyboard warrior comes rushing to the fore.   Let it all out. It’s good for you.      But is it?  I’m a member of a forum of which I’m quite active.   A few of the people on the forum are personal friends...well..as much as the internet allows relationships with people you don’t actually know in real life.   A few are also Facebook friends.   I’d posted something on Facebook which I thought was ironic, witty and sardonic.   However, someone to exception to the status and proceeded to lambast all similar posts on social networks on our little home (the forum).   Now, I’ve taken this a wee bit personally as my status was clearly supposed to be humorous . This particular person waxes lyrical about being pious and saintly ye

Yep, it's still there...marginally better but it wasn't that painful in the beginning so I can honestly say that it's been a bit of a breeze...until yesterday that is. Yesterday, I thought I'd take a spin around town and do a little bit of well earned retail therapy. I thought I'd take a look at shoes as I haven't even been able to contemplate pretty shoes for a very long time.  Just practical ones...ones that didn't hurt. I'd forgo the mobility scooter and take my chances on the crutches  I haven't been out since the operation -and I don't count the visit to the hospital to get the dressing changed and the visit to the petrol station, afterwards! So I was kind of looking forward to leaving the kids at home, especially as BH had volunteered to come home early to take me out for a coffee! How could I resist such a gallant offer? But I wish I hadn't. It was...scary.  It was very scary.  I was invisible even with the crutches.  I was jostle

We all know that personal space is that precious zone that others shouldn't encroach on. Sometimes we allow others in that zone.  Sometimes we allow others in to save offending them. Someone that gets up close and personal feels like either we're being threatened or comforted. The other night I was at a party.  There's someone I've met on several occasions, and we've exchanged the usual chit chat, but I don't know her well. Each time, she gets up soooo close that her breast is rubbing against my arm.  She talks from the side of her mouth almost like she's whispering secrets.  I found myself leaning in closer. She's right in that comfort zone, but it's OK because it makes me like I'm a really good friend each time we meet. There's another person at the party who also invades my space, but on this occasion I find it really off putting.  I move back each time they lean in. I know them well, but they just get too close for comfort and I find