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.

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.

... 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.

Close up kitties

Bokkie grooming 

FeedMe disturbed

Bokkie-cat puzzled why I am bothering with that other cat 

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.

Awww ...

... they look so cuute, but where will I sleep?

I think ...

... George voted Yes :)