So, this means I can be as horrible and, well, honest as I like, right?
Well, here fucking goes...
The man who ran over my nephew has now handed himself in, been charged and released on bail. Which, thank goodness, means it was an accident, rather than on purpose.
I have been tracking all this info on the bbc website and gleaned it from my brother.
My sister and my mother have made it quite clear that neither of them wishes to speak to me.
I am not invited to the funeral.
Bastards. Is all I can say. Bastards.
At the risk of this becoming 'all about me.' Which, of course, it certainly is not. I have sent a card and some flowers. Just so they know that we are grieving Carl as well.
They can tear them up, throw them against the wall, send them back, bin them.
Whatever.
Thursday, 27 September 2007
Monday, 24 September 2007
And, following on
Yes, following on from the last post.
The last post. That cannot be played just yet.
We got news last night of my nephew, Carl, who was killed by a hit-and-run driver early on Sunday morning.
Though his body was found at about 5.30 am, he wasn't identified until 4 pm, as he had no id on him.
He will have to have a post mortem then, when the perpetrator is found, they may want their own done.
So his body may not be released for some time.
This is devastating for his parents, my sister and her husband. And their family. My thoughts are with them, as are my family's thoughts. We cannot contact them as we have been estranged for some years. And, she doesn't want me to ring.
I remember when Carl was born. His mother and father had come to visit while mum was accompanying dad on his lorry rounds. She had some stange pains, she told me. We sent her home and he was born during that balmy August night, some 28 years ago.
Rip Carl 1979 -2007.
The last post. That cannot be played just yet.
We got news last night of my nephew, Carl, who was killed by a hit-and-run driver early on Sunday morning.
Though his body was found at about 5.30 am, he wasn't identified until 4 pm, as he had no id on him.
He will have to have a post mortem then, when the perpetrator is found, they may want their own done.
So his body may not be released for some time.
This is devastating for his parents, my sister and her husband. And their family. My thoughts are with them, as are my family's thoughts. We cannot contact them as we have been estranged for some years. And, she doesn't want me to ring.
I remember when Carl was born. His mother and father had come to visit while mum was accompanying dad on his lorry rounds. She had some stange pains, she told me. We sent her home and he was born during that balmy August night, some 28 years ago.
Rip Carl 1979 -2007.
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Just a moment...
It's rare. That time, that moment when you know you are happy, your family and friends are happy and all is right with the world.
Like the rainbow we saw yesterday. It started on our left and we saw the complete half circle, to where it ended on our right. As the sun glimmered through the clouds onto the mountain, it reflected off the white house nestled on it. It encompassed the house I call home and the whole afternoon was sparkly bright.
It moved me to comment that we will remember this moment in the years to come.
As we turned a corner we disturbed a baby roe dear, and the white powder puff on its bum waved up and down as it silently took itself out of our sight, and off to find its mother.
Today, I was smacked in the face by two horrible bits of news - the (expected, unfortunately) death of a neighbour, a man who, a year ago, had been vital, fully active and had the physical strength of an ox. Fergus died today of motor neurone disease. And then I heard about a serious marriage problem of a family member that, though not life threatening, is devastating. And, it will be ongoing for some time to come.
I've had two very close friends staying this week, and they go home tomorrow, and I shall miss them so much.
But, we will remember yesterday, as being perfect. If only for just a moment.
Like the rainbow we saw yesterday. It started on our left and we saw the complete half circle, to where it ended on our right. As the sun glimmered through the clouds onto the mountain, it reflected off the white house nestled on it. It encompassed the house I call home and the whole afternoon was sparkly bright.
It moved me to comment that we will remember this moment in the years to come.
As we turned a corner we disturbed a baby roe dear, and the white powder puff on its bum waved up and down as it silently took itself out of our sight, and off to find its mother.
Today, I was smacked in the face by two horrible bits of news - the (expected, unfortunately) death of a neighbour, a man who, a year ago, had been vital, fully active and had the physical strength of an ox. Fergus died today of motor neurone disease. And then I heard about a serious marriage problem of a family member that, though not life threatening, is devastating. And, it will be ongoing for some time to come.
I've had two very close friends staying this week, and they go home tomorrow, and I shall miss them so much.
But, we will remember yesterday, as being perfect. If only for just a moment.
Thursday, 13 September 2007
Ker-rikey, and puffed cheeks
I cannot believe that I haven't posted here for so long! Ker-ikey is soo right. It's not as though nothing has happened in the last, well, few weeks. Loads has, but I can't think of anything to write about it. Boring or what?
Today, after being in quite a stressful meeting all morning, I turn on my mobile to fnd two messages. One, from my bezzy mate and her daughter to say they are on the train! So, they'll be here in.... very soon, hurrah!
The other is from someone who deffo has a problem with me. Her behaviour indicates that she feels threatened by me. I have had this in various situations before and usually ignore it.
However, this one lives locally and is involved in several of the groups and stuff that I am involved with. One of which includes a craft group. Her craft group. And, I made the mistake of winning a third prize, over her in a comp. Oops. I can't help being brilliant, can I? Ha, ha. I actually don't go around blowing my own trumpet, swag or boast about stuff I do. This is because I don't usually get the practice of winning stuff.
But, I also won a couple of thirds in the Domestic (Goddess) section of local show. And, even though postie had warned me to swap sugar for salt in the recipe the first time of entering. I didn't and she was a tad miffed.
Today's puffed cheeks were due to this person, whom I shall call Angel, booking a lunch in a place that I simply did not want to go. Reasons include that a better place is more central for eveyone, there is a garden we can sit in if it suddenly deigns to become sunny, or one of the two babies can be taken to if they hate it indoors and, I won't have to play taxi to all and sundry. I felt put upon.
I couldn't think of any way to put up and shut up with grace. What I did want to do was stamp my feet and scream that I wouldn't go, and if I did I wouldn't eat anything, and I would take just myself.
What I did in the end was to sensibly state my case, missing out the bits about feeling that I would be taken advantage of re; lifts etc.
The venue was quickly changed, with no tears, tantrums or tearing of hair.
O, so i can be a growed up then.
Today, after being in quite a stressful meeting all morning, I turn on my mobile to fnd two messages. One, from my bezzy mate and her daughter to say they are on the train! So, they'll be here in.... very soon, hurrah!
The other is from someone who deffo has a problem with me. Her behaviour indicates that she feels threatened by me. I have had this in various situations before and usually ignore it.
However, this one lives locally and is involved in several of the groups and stuff that I am involved with. One of which includes a craft group. Her craft group. And, I made the mistake of winning a third prize, over her in a comp. Oops. I can't help being brilliant, can I? Ha, ha. I actually don't go around blowing my own trumpet, swag or boast about stuff I do. This is because I don't usually get the practice of winning stuff.
But, I also won a couple of thirds in the Domestic (Goddess) section of local show. And, even though postie had warned me to swap sugar for salt in the recipe the first time of entering. I didn't and she was a tad miffed.
Today's puffed cheeks were due to this person, whom I shall call Angel, booking a lunch in a place that I simply did not want to go. Reasons include that a better place is more central for eveyone, there is a garden we can sit in if it suddenly deigns to become sunny, or one of the two babies can be taken to if they hate it indoors and, I won't have to play taxi to all and sundry. I felt put upon.
I couldn't think of any way to put up and shut up with grace. What I did want to do was stamp my feet and scream that I wouldn't go, and if I did I wouldn't eat anything, and I would take just myself.
What I did in the end was to sensibly state my case, missing out the bits about feeling that I would be taken advantage of re; lifts etc.
The venue was quickly changed, with no tears, tantrums or tearing of hair.
O, so i can be a growed up then.
Thursday, 2 August 2007
My first meme!
Well, Breezy Break decided to bring me out of my potting shed and tagged me for my first meme. Why, thank you ma'am, and here goes:
7 Things about me and gardening
1 The senior school I went to had a farm on it, and one of our lessons was Rural Science, called Double Digging, for obvious reasons. I didn’t think I listened to any of it but, surprisingly, I remember quite a lot.
2 My mother was helping me dig my patch once, when I was wearing a fairly miniscule, low cut vest (due to the heat.) She remarked that she’d looked at my melons, and weren’t ‘they doing well, dear.’ (the melons were growing in the greenhouse!)
3 Weirdly, my favourite flower to grow is a Dahlia – don’t know why, and I don’t ‘lift’ them for the winter. It’s the only flower I would grow that doesn’t have a nice smell.
4 I love to grow lavender, and obv. love the smell
5 My favourite place to garden is with me sitting in the sun, while Mr T does all the hard work. I once persuaded Mr T to move some plants a couple of inches to the left, as it was more aesthetic – yep, and got away with it!
6 Mr T loves bright colours and I prefer more, pinks, lilacs, blues etc – so we divided one of our gardens and I had all mine in pots = no arguments
7 My best job of the year is to plant my hanging baskets – so much reward for relatively little effort.
Now, I have to tag 7 other gardeners, so here goes again:
Dusty Spider is my bessy mate and loves her garden
Ducking for Apples I don't know where Ally would stop, to be frank
Kitchen Witch though, she is into knitting lately
Apprentice takes good pictures of gardens and stuff, and writes a cracking short story
Johny B's Private Secret Diary on his hols at the mo, but lives somewhere green
Stately Moans is often up to her armpits in sh**, so might plant something as well
My so-called blog now she's left work, tho' has a sparkly new sewing machine, has time for gardening, no?
And then, I need to let each of these good people know that I have given them some homework to do, sit back, feet up to read and learn more about them.
Do please join in, though if you would like.
Add some gossip, as well, if you please.
7 Things about me and gardening
1 The senior school I went to had a farm on it, and one of our lessons was Rural Science, called Double Digging, for obvious reasons. I didn’t think I listened to any of it but, surprisingly, I remember quite a lot.
2 My mother was helping me dig my patch once, when I was wearing a fairly miniscule, low cut vest (due to the heat.) She remarked that she’d looked at my melons, and weren’t ‘they doing well, dear.’ (the melons were growing in the greenhouse!)
3 Weirdly, my favourite flower to grow is a Dahlia – don’t know why, and I don’t ‘lift’ them for the winter. It’s the only flower I would grow that doesn’t have a nice smell.
4 I love to grow lavender, and obv. love the smell
5 My favourite place to garden is with me sitting in the sun, while Mr T does all the hard work. I once persuaded Mr T to move some plants a couple of inches to the left, as it was more aesthetic – yep, and got away with it!
6 Mr T loves bright colours and I prefer more, pinks, lilacs, blues etc – so we divided one of our gardens and I had all mine in pots = no arguments
7 My best job of the year is to plant my hanging baskets – so much reward for relatively little effort.
Now, I have to tag 7 other gardeners, so here goes again:
Dusty Spider is my bessy mate and loves her garden
Ducking for Apples I don't know where Ally would stop, to be frank
Kitchen Witch though, she is into knitting lately
Apprentice takes good pictures of gardens and stuff, and writes a cracking short story
Johny B's Private Secret Diary on his hols at the mo, but lives somewhere green
Stately Moans is often up to her armpits in sh**, so might plant something as well
My so-called blog now she's left work, tho' has a sparkly new sewing machine, has time for gardening, no?
And then, I need to let each of these good people know that I have given them some homework to do, sit back, feet up to read and learn more about them.
Do please join in, though if you would like.
Add some gossip, as well, if you please.
Tuesday, 31 July 2007
I am being haunted ...
.... by the main characters in my novel, and what has happened to them, why and what they do about it.
Yet, I haven't written a word of it down. I keep making the excuse that I don't know where it should start - the options are Now and Then. I see the two main characters, I know which one is which, what they wear, what they smell like, etc, etc.
It's late now. But, I will definately write 1,000 words tomorrow.
I promise to myself.
And, you are my witness.
(Unless, of course, I do the meme that Breezy Break has set me (7 things about gardening & me; and tagging 7 other gardening (or not) blogs) - as a slight distraction excercise) tum, te, tum, te, tum.
Yet, I haven't written a word of it down. I keep making the excuse that I don't know where it should start - the options are Now and Then. I see the two main characters, I know which one is which, what they wear, what they smell like, etc, etc.
It's late now. But, I will definately write 1,000 words tomorrow.
I promise to myself.
And, you are my witness.
(Unless, of course, I do the meme that Breezy Break has set me (7 things about gardening & me; and tagging 7 other gardening (or not) blogs) - as a slight distraction excercise) tum, te, tum, te, tum.
Thursday, 26 July 2007
Up shit creek
In the words of some bloke off the telly 'I don't belieeeeeve it!'
Last Tuesday I reached the golden age of the half century.
By Saturday's post (some 4 days later, er, for those who can't count, or who've lost count) I recieved, from our local hospital, a kit for collecting poo, so that I can send it back to them and they can test it for bowel cancer!
In other areas you need to be 60 to do this.
I suppose if they look after us right, and detect it early - we may live until at least 60, eh?
Last Tuesday I reached the golden age of the half century.
By Saturday's post (some 4 days later, er, for those who can't count, or who've lost count) I recieved, from our local hospital, a kit for collecting poo, so that I can send it back to them and they can test it for bowel cancer!
In other areas you need to be 60 to do this.
I suppose if they look after us right, and detect it early - we may live until at least 60, eh?
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