... is my favourite ABC short teaser eva.
During this transistion (where has my spellcheck gone X 2) I contemplate making a mixed tape for my sister. Songs that cheer you up, ay?
I bullied her into downloading an Augie March album for me one time. Really, they would have thanked (non-existant) God never to here me utter their name again. (Really I'm not joking, where has my spellcheck gone!!!!!!)
But she did it anyway.
She was going through a bad patch at work.
Possibly the first time ever to be in an unfair situation because her employer was delusional/nuts.
Pennywhistle made her feel happy, even when she was contemplating taking prescription drugs to cope with depression.
So it totally has to be on it.
Besides, I love it and it makes me feel happy too.
Also, i was thinking, Walking on Sunshine.
And who can go past 'I hate Mondays' and the great song of indifference, but what else? Even though they ain't really particularly cheerful. (But I think topucal,considerating the situation)
Butterfly ball?
The Entertainer?
I'm a bit stuck.
I don't know many happy songs, off the top of my head.
You can't half tell I'm watching the Countdown spectacular as I write this.
No, love is in the air is nice and lovely, but hardly appropriate.
Zan looks so lovely.
Go....osh, I wish I had something more to drink.
This is the first time I've been up this late in years.
Blue skies? Willy Nelson
Bah ...
I can hear the fireworks, but can't see them.
Happy New Year
Sunday, December 31, 2017
This morning ...
... I went to Bunnings and spent my birthday voucher on some plants and then took some photos at my sisters house of some chickens and a peacock and then put a hat on one of her cats.
 |
| This chicken has a nasty look |
 |
| So handsome and shiny |
 |
| This chicken pecks my toes |
 |
| Close up peacock grooming |
 |
| Unimpressed |
I sound like ...
... a nagging fishwife, as I scold Bokkie.
What kind of time do you call this? I say at 5.30 pm.
I came home early especially to spend some quality time with you and you weren't here.
I called and I called and I called.
Where were you! You have another family, don't you! I accuse.
You've found someone with airconditioning, I suppose.
I feed him a snack.
It is too early for dinner.
He gives my hand a nice little face rub and eats, as I stand with crossed arms and scowlling. Occasionally muttering discontentedly.
He finishes his snack and does his little musical thrill for attention.
I ask if he wants to come down?
(His feeding bowl is atop the old fridge I have yet to organise to be taken away).
He indicates he maybe wants to go out.
No way!
You just got here!
I haven't seen you all day!
I stand in front of the screen door with arms and legs spread to block it.
Nonononono.
No.
You can come to the bed and thats it.
What kind of time do you call this? I say at 5.30 pm.
I came home early especially to spend some quality time with you and you weren't here.
I called and I called and I called.
Where were you! You have another family, don't you! I accuse.
You've found someone with airconditioning, I suppose.
I feed him a snack.
It is too early for dinner.
He gives my hand a nice little face rub and eats, as I stand with crossed arms and scowlling. Occasionally muttering discontentedly.
He finishes his snack and does his little musical thrill for attention.
I ask if he wants to come down?
(His feeding bowl is atop the old fridge I have yet to organise to be taken away).
He indicates he maybe wants to go out.
No way!
You just got here!
I haven't seen you all day!
I stand in front of the screen door with arms and legs spread to block it.
Nonononono.
No.
You can come to the bed and thats it.
Friday, December 29, 2017
The cracks are starting to show ...
... first time of mothers visit i called on a sober driver for the evening. I am not coping with the continued explosure to parental presence.
Mother was in the kitchen sobbing over imagined slights by my eldest sister. Mother has been here since 6 January, but eldest is apparently still supposed to make a fuss of greeting her each time they meet even though they don't get on.
Maybe because they don't get on.
Sigh.
Plus we then played a game she was not participating in and she can't stand not being the centre of attention.
She seemed pretty cranky about watching a video featuring her grand-daughter, probably because she wasn't in it. We were boring her apparently. She is such an unnatural grandmother.
Some minor sledging earlier in the evening that I was cruel like my (eldest) sister because I crowed a little over being able to open the jar of garlic with my arthrtic joints when healthy people couldn't.
My (diseased) sister thinks things are going okay this visit, but thats cause mum is savaging people when she ain't around.
Tipsy mother is now advising me I am the go to person after my (diseased) sister is gone. (She really does not want to be at my mercy. I have none left for her.)
She was weird last night too, like she was tipping me off that others would be elsewhere this morning if I wanted to spend some alone time with my (diseased) sister. I think shes forgotten I live here?
I can see her Chop anytime I want.
Its not like she is dying in the next three days.
She isn't dying at all.
Barring unforseen complications.
Things are just going to be rather unpleasant for the next six/twelve months or so, with the possibility of recurrents down the track.
My spellcheck has disappeared.
I may have just indicated a repeat attack of dehydrated grapes.
I'm pretty sure I can take out a few wisened grapes if they get stropy.
I've already killed a grapevine without even trying.
I sup the juice of the grape like it be water.
I have got the grapes totally covered, be they wrathful or not.
Just not up to coping with my mother.
Don't know when she is going home.
She may be waiting for Choppys next set of tests.
PETscan and CT scan of brain, just to make sure is primary and not secondary.
Hopefully they happen next week.
Please let her go home soon.
Please!
Edit: funnily she never counts her boy children. If I had to chose someone other then Choppy, I'd chose my not so little, little brother. He is handsome, sucessful, thoughtful, organised and considerate. Mum only obsesses about the girls. Maybe, in her mind, the boys don't belong to her. Maybe she thinks of them as belonging to dad? But really, she has always been very dismissive of males in general.
Her loss, ay?
Mother was in the kitchen sobbing over imagined slights by my eldest sister. Mother has been here since 6 January, but eldest is apparently still supposed to make a fuss of greeting her each time they meet even though they don't get on.
Maybe because they don't get on.
Sigh.
Plus we then played a game she was not participating in and she can't stand not being the centre of attention.
She seemed pretty cranky about watching a video featuring her grand-daughter, probably because she wasn't in it. We were boring her apparently. She is such an unnatural grandmother.
Some minor sledging earlier in the evening that I was cruel like my (eldest) sister because I crowed a little over being able to open the jar of garlic with my arthrtic joints when healthy people couldn't.
My (diseased) sister thinks things are going okay this visit, but thats cause mum is savaging people when she ain't around.
Tipsy mother is now advising me I am the go to person after my (diseased) sister is gone. (She really does not want to be at my mercy. I have none left for her.)
She was weird last night too, like she was tipping me off that others would be elsewhere this morning if I wanted to spend some alone time with my (diseased) sister. I think shes forgotten I live here?
I can see her Chop anytime I want.
Its not like she is dying in the next three days.
She isn't dying at all.
Barring unforseen complications.
Things are just going to be rather unpleasant for the next six/twelve months or so, with the possibility of recurrents down the track.
My spellcheck has disappeared.
I may have just indicated a repeat attack of dehydrated grapes.
I'm pretty sure I can take out a few wisened grapes if they get stropy.
I've already killed a grapevine without even trying.
I sup the juice of the grape like it be water.
I have got the grapes totally covered, be they wrathful or not.
Just not up to coping with my mother.
Don't know when she is going home.
She may be waiting for Choppys next set of tests.
PETscan and CT scan of brain, just to make sure is primary and not secondary.
Hopefully they happen next week.
Please let her go home soon.
Please!
Edit: funnily she never counts her boy children. If I had to chose someone other then Choppy, I'd chose my not so little, little brother. He is handsome, sucessful, thoughtful, organised and considerate. Mum only obsesses about the girls. Maybe, in her mind, the boys don't belong to her. Maybe she thinks of them as belonging to dad? But really, she has always been very dismissive of males in general.
Her loss, ay?
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Monday, December 25, 2017
My non-diseased sister's ...
... earring.
My not so-little little brother who flew up to surprise my diseased sister.
My nephew who is looking a bit elvish.
My not so-little little brother who flew up to surprise my diseased sister.
My nephew who is looking a bit elvish.
Xmas lunch ...
The cook trying to appear discrete.
My other nieces new choker.
Xmas lunch (well, half of xmas lunch, anyway).
Xmas
Sister has retreated as mother is off and going on a racist rant about Muslims sparked by step-nieces careless comment about not sure what, it was only very loosely connected to religion.
Natasha thinks it was a throw away comment about someone being persian.
Natasha thinks it was a throw away comment about someone being persian.
Stuff ...
My sisters bandages.
The irony of just having spent foolish amounts of money on a new hairdo prior to finding out it will all fall out, ha ha.
Champagne with fruit, w00t!
The irony of just having spent foolish amounts of money on a new hairdo prior to finding out it will all fall out, ha ha.
Champagne with fruit, w00t!
Photos ..
Peacock wot hangs out at my sisters house.
He is losing his old tail and growing another.
We search the yard for feathers/treasure whene'er we come over.
And pictures of gum leaves I took yesterday, after noticing the catapillars.
He is losing his old tail and growing another.
We search the yard for feathers/treasure whene'er we come over.
And pictures of gum leaves I took yesterday, after noticing the catapillars.
Saturday, December 23, 2017
Ha! Details at last!
My beautiful sister has thoughtfully posted details, which is handy cause I keep forgetting them.
"high grade, triple-negative neuroendocrine carcinoma. A fine needle biopsy of a suspicious lymph node came back negative and I have had a CT Scan (chest, intestinal and pelvis) as well as a bone scan that have also come back clear. Oncologist is still suspicious (or getting kickbacks from the nuclear imaging unit) as I am booked for a PET scan and a brain CT after new year. Apparently it’s rather unusual for a neuroendocrine tumour to be primary breast cancer. Read a few medical case studies and the ones I’ve seen usually aren’t triple-negative. So special!
Started chemo on Thursday and for the next 12 weeks, Wednesday will be chemo day on the Carboplatin/paclitaxel protocal. If all things stay to plan after that I move to fortnightly doxorubicin/cyclophosphamide for 8 weeks. Apparently I’ll probably loose my hair with the first lot and ..."
Far out brussel sprout, ay?
She is going to nail them chemo beanies though.
She is heaps more systematic than me.
Probably even hydromatic.
Have a kitty by my side and chucked FeedMe outside for the short-term cause he sprayed my leg and I can't be having with that.
Have been super hungry since sister's news which is odd cause i am not a comfort eater.
More of a comfort drinker.
It was 31 degrees inside at my bed under the ceiling fan when I came home, and has dipped to about 29, but that could be because it is next to the wine bottle.
I have tomorrow and xmas off work and will be bright eyed and bushie tailed for boxing day.
Merry Christmas peoples 🎅
"high grade, triple-negative neuroendocrine carcinoma. A fine needle biopsy of a suspicious lymph node came back negative and I have had a CT Scan (chest, intestinal and pelvis) as well as a bone scan that have also come back clear. Oncologist is still suspicious (or getting kickbacks from the nuclear imaging unit) as I am booked for a PET scan and a brain CT after new year. Apparently it’s rather unusual for a neuroendocrine tumour to be primary breast cancer. Read a few medical case studies and the ones I’ve seen usually aren’t triple-negative. So special!
Started chemo on Thursday and for the next 12 weeks, Wednesday will be chemo day on the Carboplatin/paclitaxel protocal. If all things stay to plan after that I move to fortnightly doxorubicin/cyclophosphamide for 8 weeks. Apparently I’ll probably loose my hair with the first lot and ..."
Far out brussel sprout, ay?
She is going to nail them chemo beanies though.
She is heaps more systematic than me.
Probably even hydromatic.
Have a kitty by my side and chucked FeedMe outside for the short-term cause he sprayed my leg and I can't be having with that.
Have been super hungry since sister's news which is odd cause i am not a comfort eater.
More of a comfort drinker.
It was 31 degrees inside at my bed under the ceiling fan when I came home, and has dipped to about 29, but that could be because it is next to the wine bottle.
I have tomorrow and xmas off work and will be bright eyed and bushie tailed for boxing day.
Merry Christmas peoples 🎅
Friday, December 22, 2017
FeedMe...
... is a very handsome kitty.
My sister had her Porta catheter installed today, so next weeks chemo should be a little more convenient for her. She'll be able to get on with her crochet.
She has a couple of string bags to go before she starts on some of her chemo beanies. Mind you, I reckon its far too hot for beanies in this weather and she may be better off investing in a kool (and cool) hat.
One of the ladies on palliative care wot comes to my workplace has evolved into a rather fetching hat somewhat reminiscent of a bowler.
My sister had her Porta catheter installed today, so next weeks chemo should be a little more convenient for her. She'll be able to get on with her crochet.
She has a couple of string bags to go before she starts on some of her chemo beanies. Mind you, I reckon its far too hot for beanies in this weather and she may be better off investing in a kool (and cool) hat.
One of the ladies on palliative care wot comes to my workplace has evolved into a rather fetching hat somewhat reminiscent of a bowler.
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
Blinks
Well ... my sister had her appointment with the oncologist today.
He's decided to start her on chemo tomorrow, rather than the originally planned 27th or so.
She has downloaded a bunch of Star Trek episodes to watch whilst she is on the drip.
Eldest sister has ordered photos for the yearly family photo album for next year.
We are such a geekie family.
He's decided to start her on chemo tomorrow, rather than the originally planned 27th or so.
She has downloaded a bunch of Star Trek episodes to watch whilst she is on the drip.
Eldest sister has ordered photos for the yearly family photo album for next year.
We are such a geekie family.
Saturday, December 16, 2017
The bits ....
... i am fond of from my beloved band's first single are 'the tree of love is sappy' and 'i fornicate with the moon'.
I had a bedroom in a highset house wot looked out onto the sunrise which I would wake briefly to, before going back to sleep during my teenage years.
Sometimes I would wake earlier to only the moon and stars and fornicating with the moon is the unromantic version of where my thoughts drifted.
I blame it on the greek myths I used to read . I think many go through that phase.
Only bestie Michelle ever tried to draft a family tree of the greek gods.
It got very complicated.
After she'd had to tape together four sheets of foolscap paper because Zeus kept raping/fornicating with sisters/daughters/grand children, not to mention Venus and her children and other varous gods leaking semen about the place she gave up and moved on to designing Flash Gordon style outfits onto outlines of Betty and Veronica from Archie comics.
I can't see myself making it to any shows in the near future.
I am going to hang around home like a bad smell and attempt to be useful.
I had a bedroom in a highset house wot looked out onto the sunrise which I would wake briefly to, before going back to sleep during my teenage years.
Sometimes I would wake earlier to only the moon and stars and fornicating with the moon is the unromantic version of where my thoughts drifted.
I blame it on the greek myths I used to read . I think many go through that phase.
Only bestie Michelle ever tried to draft a family tree of the greek gods.
It got very complicated.
After she'd had to tape together four sheets of foolscap paper because Zeus kept raping/fornicating with sisters/daughters/grand children, not to mention Venus and her children and other varous gods leaking semen about the place she gave up and moved on to designing Flash Gordon style outfits onto outlines of Betty and Veronica from Archie comics.
I can't see myself making it to any shows in the near future.
I am going to hang around home like a bad smell and attempt to be useful.
My silly sister ...
... has been diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of breast cancer.
Really, i should have been worried when nothing went wrong with my scooter. Something bad always happens in December. I hate xmas.
Luckily, the found bits are primary rather than secondary (which was first thought), and it hasn't attached to the bone , so really best xmas present ever!
Suxs to be my sister though. Chemo, mastectomy and radiation therapy for the near future.
I was kean to attempt the plaster cast of her soon to be removed bits but she ain't interested, and her husbands suggestion of a photo shoot met similar distain, lol.
However, maybe I should go look for something extra to the socks I have bought everybody for xmas.
She is the linchpin of the siblings and we might all dissolve into our component parts without her.
She is a treasure.
Really, i should have been worried when nothing went wrong with my scooter. Something bad always happens in December. I hate xmas.
Luckily, the found bits are primary rather than secondary (which was first thought), and it hasn't attached to the bone , so really best xmas present ever!
Suxs to be my sister though. Chemo, mastectomy and radiation therapy for the near future.
I was kean to attempt the plaster cast of her soon to be removed bits but she ain't interested, and her husbands suggestion of a photo shoot met similar distain, lol.
However, maybe I should go look for something extra to the socks I have bought everybody for xmas.
She is the linchpin of the siblings and we might all dissolve into our component parts without her.
She is a treasure.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
What am I doing wrong?
Whenever i sing Adele songs my cats become very concerned and leap on the bed vocalising alot.
I didn't think I did so bad?
It's like they stop by concerned I am crying for help or something and then stop to admonish me afterwards for worrying them.
Really!!! Don't think I am that bad.
I didn't think I did so bad?
It's like they stop by concerned I am crying for help or something and then stop to admonish me afterwards for worrying them.
Really!!! Don't think I am that bad.
Saturday, December 9, 2017
... and also,
... mother has only been here for a day and a half, and its all been fine, but for some reason my eye tick wot i used to get in Sydney when I was working long hours has started all ready.
I am spending all Monday (my birthday) with her to expatriate (sp?) my guilt for forgetting to call on her birthday. So far the plan is to spend all day driving around all the new suburbs I've yet to see.
What if I die before I hear the new album?
I may die of boredom.
Or kill my self.
Or kill my mother.
What was I thinking?
I was thinking i am a bad daughter who is counting down the years left based on when my grandmother's died.
Considering the effusive language being used by my parent in recent phone calls, so is she.
I am going to be very nice to my mother this year.
I am going to be very nice to my mother this year.
I am going etc.
I am chanting to myself
A positive affirmation.
I can totaly do this.
Only it is so much easier to do drunk than sober.
I can be quite chaty when tipsy.
My eye is still twitching.
I am spending all Monday (my birthday) with her to expatriate (sp?) my guilt for forgetting to call on her birthday. So far the plan is to spend all day driving around all the new suburbs I've yet to see.
What if I die before I hear the new album?
I may die of boredom.
Or kill my self.
Or kill my mother.
What was I thinking?
I was thinking i am a bad daughter who is counting down the years left based on when my grandmother's died.
Considering the effusive language being used by my parent in recent phone calls, so is she.
I am going to be very nice to my mother this year.
I am going to be very nice to my mother this year.
I am going etc.
I am chanting to myself
A positive affirmation.
I can totaly do this.
Only it is so much easier to do drunk than sober.
I can be quite chaty when tipsy.
My eye is still twitching.
Close up kitties
 |
| Bokkie grooming |
 |
| FeedMe disturbed |
 |
| Bokkie-cat puzzled why I am bothering with that other cat |
Wednesday, December 6, 2017
Good Morning!
Harkening back to olden days when I could scarf bacon and/or eggs benedict with impunity, I set myself down with the tasty salty snack and absentmindedly burnt toast, fried in a pan because I threw out the toaster in a fit of disgust in a culling cleaning rage months back and not replaced it, to listen to my beloved band Augie March's first released single of new album.
Eggs Benedict no long agrees with me and I can only eat if I am heading straight home from the cafe after to baptise the bowl in enthusiastic effluence (on my more affluent days when I go out for breakfast wot with coffee or tea costs $25 or more *shakes fist at the often too tempting suggestion of a hash brown*).
I've not felt the same about bacon since the bout of food poisoning, which it well and truly won, leaving me passed out and waking all warm and relaxed in a pool of my own vomit (it took ages to wash it all the little bacon bits out of my hair).
Augie however are still a blessing to my ears and brain. I find myself murmurring little inanities as I listen like they are my favourite cat who has just been particularly pleasing and winsome and cute ... aren't you a gorgegous little boy ... whose a clever boy ... aren't ya just a cute squiggy little pooky ... i love you, yes I do, yes I do ... etc, and swing my feet and hum happily like I do when I am eating something particularly nice.
My toes tingle in anticipation for February when the album is released and the back of my neck tightens as I contemplate how there is no way in heck I can get to the first performance, whilst I still speculate on maybe possibly if I eat peanut butter and vegamite for the next two months ... maybe? .... but toast gives me indigestion nowadays and I am already regretting breakfast, though I made cats very happy with tidbits of bacon and they are grooming themseves in a pleased fashion and looking approvingly at me from their lofty perches atop bookshelves which is currently a much favored and competed position since a little rain and the heat have produced a small flea situation until Friday payday when I can purchase the solution to my itchy ankles, since the bookcase won't hold me.
Expressing my delight would be a great deal easier if I didn't have to chicken peck this out one fingered on my tablet. An exercise in exquisite frustration for a typist. It interferes with my flow.
I go now to listen to the song again.
Eggs Benedict no long agrees with me and I can only eat if I am heading straight home from the cafe after to baptise the bowl in enthusiastic effluence (on my more affluent days when I go out for breakfast wot with coffee or tea costs $25 or more *shakes fist at the often too tempting suggestion of a hash brown*).
I've not felt the same about bacon since the bout of food poisoning, which it well and truly won, leaving me passed out and waking all warm and relaxed in a pool of my own vomit (it took ages to wash it all the little bacon bits out of my hair).
Augie however are still a blessing to my ears and brain. I find myself murmurring little inanities as I listen like they are my favourite cat who has just been particularly pleasing and winsome and cute ... aren't you a gorgegous little boy ... whose a clever boy ... aren't ya just a cute squiggy little pooky ... i love you, yes I do, yes I do ... etc, and swing my feet and hum happily like I do when I am eating something particularly nice.
My toes tingle in anticipation for February when the album is released and the back of my neck tightens as I contemplate how there is no way in heck I can get to the first performance, whilst I still speculate on maybe possibly if I eat peanut butter and vegamite for the next two months ... maybe? .... but toast gives me indigestion nowadays and I am already regretting breakfast, though I made cats very happy with tidbits of bacon and they are grooming themseves in a pleased fashion and looking approvingly at me from their lofty perches atop bookshelves which is currently a much favored and competed position since a little rain and the heat have produced a small flea situation until Friday payday when I can purchase the solution to my itchy ankles, since the bookcase won't hold me.
Expressing my delight would be a great deal easier if I didn't have to chicken peck this out one fingered on my tablet. An exercise in exquisite frustration for a typist. It interferes with my flow.
I go now to listen to the song again.
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