Life in Middle Girth

Mood: Blah
Listening to: Fire ticking

Here am I or haere mai or just gidday....

Mood: Mellow

Well here I am after what seems like an eternity. Its bizarre, but I've had more time to myself in the past few months to do what I want than ever before, and yet I've neglected to do those things that I've been looking forward to: sorting the photos, blogging, journaling and catching up with people. The only real ME thing I've done is visit the library! Lots of conflicting feelings, I think that the latent guilt of unemployment and not contributing financially anyway, prevents me from doing those treat things. Silly, eh.

The wonderful fabulous gloroius great news is that the husband had a clear CT scan last week, and the hospital doesn't want to see him for 6 whole months. No chemo, no bloods, no ECGs, no xrays - nothing. While this is cause for yippee and hooray, it is also slightly unnerving to think that nobody's monitoring him either, but I'm sure we'll get used to it. At the last visit to the oncologist I mentioned how surreal this whole thing feels - it's like we've cruised through the whole nightmare slightly anaesthetised or something. By the time we knew it was cancer, it had been removed with half of the bowel, then by the time we knew it had gone into the lymph nodes chemo was just about started, then when chemo started getting really awful it was time to move on to the less awful phase, and so on and so forth. And throughout all of this process the husband still worked 2 weeks out of 3 - half the imported workers there don't turn up that often and they're perfectly healthy! And he wonders why he gets tired????

Quick update:

House finally sold after 12 months on the market. The way our life was though, it would have been disastrous had it sold any earlier. We now live in a little 3 bedroom rental with little being the operative word. Thankfully it has a double garage which is jammed with boxes and furniture which will stay there till we are in the new place. Shifting involved 3 skip bins and 3 bonfires ugggh.

I left one full time job for a part time job then left that for glorious unemployment when the house sold. Haven't found a new one yet (haven't really looked), but have the odd temp pop up now and then.

Eldest son now in the Navy, loving it. We went up to the Passing Out Parade a couple of weeks ago, and a family church service a month or so before that; a lovely blend of traditional military stuff and modern, human everyday things. Wish he would write more often, I miss him and found the first few weeks dreadful - no contact, it was as though he'd died.

On the verge of beginning to build our new house. Exciting!! Have had seemingly endless nitpicking from the Council to get the plans to "go" stage but hopefully the foundations begin this weekend. Hubby and his mate are doing a large part of it (except mate ended up on crutches this week and is now waiting for knee surgery).

Rain! Endless bloody rain, nuff said.

So, there you have it for now. See, once I start I can't shut up. There's a whole lot of stuff that I should offload for my own good but that might have to be channelled into other places.

The date on this entry says 16 May 2007 at 12 17 o'clock. It is in light grey and I can't change it so it will be interesting to see what comes up when I publish because it is actually 22 May at 10.56pm. Use current time is checked.

Okayyyyy well, I have resigned my new job shock horror. Spent a thoroughly miserable weekend and after a group discussion with hubby and friends we went to dinner with, they all persuaded me that there was no point continuing in a position that I clearly loathed and the worries of being on the job hunting scene would be less than the worries of remaining where I was. I was a bit astounded because I rather thought that having made my bed I'd have to lie in it but there you go! Yesterday I composed my letter and handed it over after lunch with fear and trepidation - once again, I needn't have worried it seems. The sky didn't fall on me, nor did my boss rage or weep - can't believe it was that easy.

What now? Well, I could go knocking on doors with my CV or I could set up my own wee temp enterprise, the trouble is I need difficult hours, say 9 - 2.30 max. Picky eh - but that's why I left my original job so there is no point in backsliding on that. So, two weeks and counting!

Will now attempt to publish that, I just cannot get the hang of how to drive this blog any more with regards to viewing recent entries. Here goes.

Can anybody shed light on why I can't get my recent blogs onto the page when I go to "View weblog"? I discovered both the previous two entries were actually there but they took a long time for me to find, yet they must pop up somewhere because I've got comments posted on them.

Any help would be appreciated.

Now I must go to work - another day in paradise. Yeah right. (Yeah right is the p.s. to many many statements, meaning we mean the complete opposite. It comes from a Tui beer ad, and is world famous - in NZ anyway.)

Just wrote a lovely blog, happiness filled following a pleasant stress-free day celebrating the B.Ed (Tchg) bestowed on daughter who even let us give her a hug -and went to publish and I think lost the lot. I only say "think" because it's taken all day to find the blog I did last night so it could be lost in cyberspace somewhere.

Won't gnash my teeth just yet, but also don't have the energy or heart to try recreating it, suffice it to say it was calm and relaxed for once. We've had a lovely day.

And reflective too, on the big gap I feel at times like this when I miss my parents - you know, when you just want to tell them things. Perhaps they know anyway.

And a random thought too - hubby thought he might just shave his head of what little hair he has (family failing, not chemo) but I hate shaved heads so I rashly said that if he did, I would too. Sure hope he doesn't!! At least it would make a change from my entire family moaning about my greying hair (it doesn't actually worry me!).

Damn I'm annoyed at losing that episode.

Mood: Tired and happy

After all my rants and moans yesterday, I've had a lovely day today.

We now have a B.Ed (Tchg) in the family - it's official! Capped and gowned and scroll presented. I guess every other mum in the Regent was busting with pride too but I reckon I was the only one who mattered. I didn't disgrace myself by blubbering although I did shed a tear or two quite by accident at the beginning as the begowned tutors filed in, pomp and ceremony often does that to me and I'm getting worse as I get older. But really, tears of pride and joy, however irrational, are excusable surely!

Nah, it was a lovely day, looooong ceremony for Small to sit through although with the aid of a pen and pad to draw on, he coped very well. Following the ceremony the two big boys wandered off round town while we adults (had Pip's late best mate's parents with us, they are her "other" parents, and Grandad) ambled down to the huge marquees in the square and eventually located Pip. She was actually quite happy to see us and suffered maternal and paternal hugs (but only one each) and we did the photo thing both there and at T.Coll and Massey - then off to lunch at The Bath House. Very nice. Then to a pub to meet with somebody and somebody's parents, (Duncs and I went to Pak'n'Save and stocked up on chips and fizz and nibbles for the expected influx at the flat tonight), took the cap and gown back to the hire place and ended up at Pip's flat - nobody else home. After a welcome cuppa and shoe removal, and quick gidday to flatties and one set of flatties grandparents who came and went, we tootled home again - so it was a long day, 8.15am to 6pm, but one that we wouldn't have missed for the world. Even managed to get a photo of all four kids looking reasonably happy together, and a few others. Wish she'd booked an official studio photo but I think some of her flatmates have one of her on her own.

I'm raving on, sorry. Brevity is not in my vocab. But isn't it all nice and positive tonight!!

Poor old husband has just had a call out - one of the only advantages of him being ill was not being on that roster but he's back on it now. Has had a couple of middle of the nights this week and they're knocking the stuffing out of him. Hopefully this early evening one will let him off a later call.

And now for tonight's random thought....

My greying hair is a bone of contention with the family - they all hate it with a vengeance but honestly it doesn't bother me, at least not as much as regrowth does, so I don't dye it anymore, not even streaks or foils which I will admit I liked (except for the price). The husband reckoned he was going to shave his off - not that he has much anyway, baldness is a family failing I'm afraid and he hasn't escaped - but I hate shaved heads so I threatened that if he did, I would too. God, I hope he doesn't!!!!

I wish my parents could have been there today, especially my Dad. I still have his degree rolled up in a tube upstairs..... It's times like this that I really, really hate being an orphan - I just want to tell them things sometimes!

Mood: Uncertain

Huge gaps are not a good idea. I have them at the moment in my blog, my journal, my very life it feels.

A quick catch up, excuse disjointedness.

Chemo: First lot finished thank God, two doses of the next lot down (6 to go) and it doesn't seem to be affecting him so far. It got very difficult towards the end of the other lot with each dose having worse and worse effects. But the good news, GREAT news is that a CAT scan about a month ago came up clear, with no mets anywhere. Oddly enough that was about when this whole thing began to hit me, maybe because I relaxed my guard?

Job: I've chucked my lovely job in. I needed to cut my hours back so I could be an after school mum to my 7 year old, and the boss wouldn't play the game so when I saw another one advertised as part time with flexible hours I went for it. Trouble is, I hate it. Sigh. But it is lovely finishing at 2.30! Homework gets done before the journey to school, tea is no longer a whirlwind affair with prep beginning as I walk in the door at a quarter to six. Washing can be put out in the morning and brought in dry after work. The money is at a slightly higher rate but only working 4.5 hours a day cuts it back again. And rostered Saturdays are about to begin - working 2 out of 3. My eyes are open for something better.

Daughter: Graduates tomorrow with  a B.Ed (Tchg) - how about that! And even better, we are all allowed to go to the ceremony. (I think that's so as we can pay for the obligatory celebratory lunch afterwards. She's already told us it won't be any use our trying to mingle with everybody else's parents as we aren't in their class.) Kirsty's parents are coming too so at least she won't be too foul in front of them. I'm terribly proud of her but am not allowed to give her even a hug, that hurts.

House: Still on the market, no nibbles, only one person through since we changed agents at the beginning of March. New plans almost complete, right down to the specs. Anticipation building (no pun intended).

Youth Hostels: we went down to Wellington a couple of weeks ago so Husband and the big kids could go to the rugby at the cake tin - a first for the males, Pip's been before. (Small and I got the better deal, we went to Mr Bean Goes On Holiday then had tea at a pancake place.) Trying to get accomodation for 6 that doesn't involve a third mortgage was tricky until we happened on the YHA site on the net. The kids were aghast - because the parents are so OLD!!! But we explained that youth hostels weren't just for youths lol. We (parents anyway) were super-impressed at the Wellington YHA - just like a hotel really, except for sharing the bathroom. Spotlessly clean, fantastic central city location, parking not a problem - and it cost $155 for all of us. Recommended to all. Also did Te Papa and many varied takeaways. Maybe next time I'll get to visit....

Son: Eldest, who was on a year's cadet scheme at the local Council has finished his time there and the promised position that would be available at the end of his contract, wasn't. He's spent quite a lot of time haymaking and carting straw, as well as being a scarer at the Maze - however, the Maze has closed now and its getting past hay and straw time. He has always spoken of joining the Navy, but has done nothing about it yet. Having a mostly unemployed 19 year old around, who isn't keen on domestic chores or board paying is fast losing it's appeal. We've tried and tried to get him motivated, but I'm wary of pushing him into something he no longer wants to try. I've sort of laid the law down - if he doesn't want to go to the Navy any more that's fine but in that case he needs to get a job. Sigh.

Enough for now? I have missed being here, have missed journalling too. It's like everything gets too hard sometimes and I go into a black hole. Actually I have been feeling a bit ? bleh ? lately, think it's a combination of mental and hormonal. Not that any bastard here gives a toss. Oh, harsh, sorry. Second son just went past and said "don't know why you bother Mum, nobody will ever read it". That's not the point though is it? That's just bloody spoilt my first entry back. Bugger.

I think I like my jewellery because choosing what to wear is a choice that I can make solely for the pleasure that it gives me. Now that's a random wee thought, just thought I'd chuck that one in.

For other times: Drifton, Goon show, shaved heads...

Have really missed blogging - has been for a number of reasons, beginning with getting a bollocking from the daughter about references to her. Seems I offended her sensibilities with a mention of some kind that was less than kind and she was highly miffed. While I'm sorry she didn't like or approve, it really is not her business - or is it? Anyway, it cramped my style, left me feeling that once again my own space was not my own and that, combined with lots of other things, has kept me away. Howerver, I read an article on blogs in a magazine today and it got me back on track....

The husband continues with his chemo. It's been a long haul thus far but he's on the homeward stretch (we hope). So far he's had 6 out of 8 three week courses, although a couple of them have stretched an extra week to allow him to recover between doses.For each cycle he spends most of one day over at the hospital receiving a cocktail of infusions - drugs thru IV - then for a fortnight swallows a heap of pills twice a day, then has a week's recovery. For the first week he has a very painful arm where the chemo went in, then nasty reactions in the form of numbness and severe sensitivity to cold in his hands and feet. Finally, the soles of his feet and palms of his hands become incredibly sore and tender and he loses a layer of skin. The last couple of cycles have really upset his previously cast-iron gut too, and he's had nausea and diarhoea (sp?) to cope with too, although he has more pills to counteract that as required. In spite of all this, he is managing to work 2 out of 3 weeks, and potters at home for the rest of the time.

The house remains unsold as yet, but the open homes are coming thicker and faster. We're about to come to the  end of a sole agency so will probably change agents then. Sod's law has decreed that in our small street there are now 4 houses on the market within spitting distance of each other, all for perfectly legit reasons but it's not a good look for purchasers!

And the plans for the new house are progressing, although we can't act on them till this place sells. We've nearly got the floorplan to where we want it, and the process of choosing bricks, windows, doors and kitchen layouts is about to begin. Nightmare material for me, I can't even pick a lightshade without dithering! Our mates' house on the section next door is at the really exciting stage - their framework went up this week so it's actually looking like a house now. Hubby has spent many, many hours over there pottering and helping and storing "how to" skills for our place. In many ways it's been his sanity saver.

We survived the daughters 21st - both the birthday at the beginning of January, and the party a couple of weeks ago. These events were not without stress but worked out well in the end. In fact, I had a great time! I made a photo book for her and finally got to dabble with scrapbooking stuff that I've been storing up for ages. My usual disorganised self had me working into the wee small hours every night for about a week on the project, but I thoroughly enjoyed it and was pleased with the outcome. Brownie points to me.

The weight issue is still there but I'm still thinking energetically! Over the school holidays I was able to walk to and from work as I didn't have to take small to school, and after 3 weeks I reckon I was beginning to see results - only tiny ones but enough to be encouraging. But then school went back and the walking stopped and eating began and...... It also doesn't help to have a boss who has gone from about a size 20 down to 66kg and is preening at every opportunity.

Gotta go,

Later...

Mood: Cross and tired
Listening to: Night-time creaks

Friday, Sept 22 2006, 12.50am (so its really Thursday night)

I am feeling really angry about something but it makes me feel petty and childish to grizzle about it - but dammit I'm going to anyway.

Here's my husband, 43, Type 1 diabetes so he has to inject four times daily which isn't fun but never mind, he does it. Late last year he was suffering a lot of back and hip pain and we discovered he has a deformed hip socket, and osteo arthritis is taking hold there. Bugger. Oh well, take the painkillers and carry on as best you can and realise a new hip joint is somewhere down the track. Now he's got bowel cancer, had that operated on and is about to undergo chemotherapy for up to a year. For goodness sake, enough! 

Yes, he's lucky - these days injecting insulin is a doddle compared with how it used to be. Easy for me to say from this side of the needle. And isn't it fortunate that medicine has come far enough for hip replacements to be relatively common and uncomplicated? And gosh, we were so lucky that his cancer was picked up quite by chance at such an early stage and he was able to have the operation laproscopically and hasn't ended up with a colostomy bag, and not all chemotherapy is as debilitating as we imagine, and aren't we lucky we had medical insurance (which pays 80% up to a certain limit) ......

Yeah, right. It's all very well looking at the bright side and picking bits of that old silver lining out of the clouds, but every now and then it doesn't hurt to have a little wallow. I just wish there was an evening out process somewhere along the way and that the good guys didn't have to keep taking the knocks while the bad buggers keep getting away unscathed (spose the Mob will get me for that).

But what has got me stewing at the moment is this. Through the last couple of months, Brent has been using up his sick leave with specialist appointments, the operation and recovery time, the scan, more appointments - and so have I because I want to be there  with him - and when the sick leave runs out then you use up annual leave or take leave without pay meaning either loss of family time later on or loss of funds now.  We have been backwards and forwards to Palmerston North that many times I can't remember - there's a certain dollar cost involved there too. Ok, that's just how things work and it's bad luck but it's the same for everyone.

HOLD IT!! Hold it right there. It is NOT the same for everyone. Consider this. A certain other employee at my husband's work recently went hunting down south with his mate. They had a great time out in the wop wops and when they got back to civilisation they got totally boozed, and  this bloke jumped off a balcony and shattered both feet. While I have sympathy for his pain, remember this: it was self inflicted through booze and stupidity and need never have happened.  This bloke got flown to hospital, flown back to his home town, and has been off work for something like twenty weeks ON FULL PAY thanks to our wonderful ACC (Accident Compensation) system. That's not the worst bit.  What has really raised my blood pressure through the sodding roof is that he's going skydiving this weekend - his wife bought him this as a birthday treat - and he's still not back at work because he's on ACC. And we're using up annual leave and going without because we're having to pay for what the insurance doesn't cover (our share of about $16,000 so far, never mind travel and petrol) all because Brent got sick. If he'd got pissed and impaled himself on a fence post or something, we'd be better off, but hey! That's the way it is.

Forgive my bitterness but it just isn't fair.

And shall I carry on whinging? We have to pay for needles, insulin, tablets, test strips - it doesn't stop there. Healthy food is much more expensive than crappy junk. Trim milk costs more than ordinary blue top. Low fat stuff is dearer than regular stuff. Low sugar products are more expensive than normal ones. See? If you get sick, life becomes very expensive. If you get hurt, you get compensated.

Where's the justice? And that's only the financial side. I won't even try to find justice on the "Why us" front.

I feel a bit better having off loaded that. Sorry for those that have had their ears bent.

Jaybee

Mood: Slightly grumpy
Listening to: Some crap on tv in background

Hi,

Surely it's not too much to ask for my kids to do the goddamned dishes? But no, they won't do them.

It was Brent's first day back at work today, and I was at my work too....got home at 5.30 to find Brent and his sister having a cuppa so instead of getting tea on the go I joined them, which meant tea got later....I'd planned on doing a fish pie but everyone pulled faces at that so I crumbed and fried most of it and experimented with a little of it, chopping up a bit of snapper, some marlin, onions, parsley, egg, flour and turning it into fritter things. They ate it. I loaded the dishwasher and set it going, made a cup of tea and did my newspaper typing, it's now ten o'clock and in spite of me asking and asking and asking the bloody dishes are still sitting where I left them after cooking tea. Jeez it annoys me and ps the husband off. Lazy little shits.

Well now, an update on the husband. Yesterday we visited the oncologist who gave us the glad tidings that there didn't appear to be any secondaries, certainly none showed on the scan. Hooray!! some good news at last. I was almost too scared to contemplate good news because we've had a few kicks lately.  That's the good bit, the not so good bit is that Brent now has to undergo 30 weeks of chemo, being weekly injections administered at the cancer clinic in PN. Hopefully he will get onto a trial programme which involves a mixture of drugs and gives a slightly better prognosis than the ordinary chemo, but if not it is the other programme, 5Fu I think it's called. Apparently it's not the the absolutely horrendous stuff that lays you out for a week a month and makes all your hair fall out (thank goodness, he may not have much on top but there's heaps on his body!); he should be able to continue working throughout and even play sport but will feel more tired than usual. All this will begin sometime in mid-October, after he's recovered more from his operation. And that recovery has been truly marvellous - as yesterday's man said, why bother with a knife when you can use a telescope?  So we're feeling quite a lot happier this week. Unfortunately the hubby has hatched another cold and is cough-cough-coughing, not too good for his tummy.

Today was a funeral day. Peter Brock, the King of Tonga, and Dave D..... here in our town. He - Dave - had a very noteable funereal procession of Harley Davidsons preceeded by him in a gleaming black coffin on the back of an impeccable shiny old Holden Kingswood ute - Gemma, his daughter, rode on the back of the first Harley and looked so little and alone. Her older sister committed suicide ten years ago under the Bulls Bridge on her 15th birthday, then her mum and dad split up and her mum moved down south; recently Gemma has had a little boy of her own. She's 21, four days older than our daughter. It was in the maternity home that we met and the girls went through kindy, primary school and intermediate together. Dave dropped dead from a heart attack. He was only 47.

After about two years of not keeping up the family communications with the various cousins round the country, not even doing Christmas cards, I've started writing letters again. With pen and ink not on the computer so while they may be pleased to hear from me (or not!) they may have trouble reading my scrawl. It did feel good to be getting in touch again though. And I got a phone call from one cuz at the weekend though I haven't heard from the other one yet. Mind you she might still be investing her millions - it was the Lotto one! It is nice receiving mail that ain't bills.

Tired, grumpier because its now even later and no kids doing dishes. To bed, to bed.

Jaybee

Mood: Tired
Listening to: Dawn chorus

The expanded version will have to wait, but here is the condensed news on the hubby.

He had his op - laproscopically assisted right hemicolectomy for you medicoholics - on Thursday last week. Came back with drips aplenty, in, out and all about, and made good progress day by day with the gradual removal of plumbing. Big milestones: Friday night, he "passed wind" - got a text while at Folk Dance night for small, it read "don't be down hearted because I have farted". Because this meant the bowel was waking up, he was then allowed food, eg soup, scrambled egg, moving gently on to more substantial stuff. Then it was removal of final drip, and walk to the door and back, with an almost vertical posture. Monday morning, the bowels (not the earth) moved!  These small things are huge achievements, its funny how perspective changes depending on circumstances. Final frontier - home on Monday afternoon. He's very weak and tired but looks a lot better than he did, everybody thinks.

Yesterday we had to go back to see the surgeon who had been too busy to see Brent before discharge, and get the histology reports from the surgery. A mere formality we thought but, no. Another bombshell for us. The lymph nodes that were removed showed cancer in them. This means the possibility that it has spread further, so the next step is a CT scan to look for more, then six months chemotherapy (which changes the chances of the cancer returning from 50/50 to maybe 60/40 or even 70/30 against). Can you believe it? We are having trouble with this one, had so pinned our hopes on the surgery being the end of it all. Not going to do the why thing cos all that does is your head in. Just taking a day at a time.

Sore eyes today, and must get more tissues.

More later.

Jaybee

Mood: Disorganised
Listening to: Dunc watching TV in my bed

Mood: Slightly surreal
Listening to: Silent house

Tuesday, 10.34pm

Tried to write a minute ago but foolishly went to look at 'previous entries' and lost it. So here goes again.

The surreal mood is probably a result of a combination of  things: the large amount of chocolate I've just eaten, being tired, pills I'm taking for a crook back, anticipation of Thursday...

Thursday is our biggie, the day husband goes into hospital for the removal of half of his bowel. Nobody had actually said "He's got cancer", we've had phrases like "nasty cells", "pre-cancerous conditions", 'abnormalities" - but we'll know for sure once they remove it and examine the lymph nodes attached to the arteries that feed that portion of intestine. Today he had day one of a special diet - it's not too bad really, just limited to chicken, fish, eggs, dairy products, white rice, bread and pasta. Easy. It's called a low residue diet, and he has to be on it for the two days prior to his operation. No fasting this time, much kinder to diabetics. The down side is that he'll have an enema on admission. The surgeon expects to do most of the procedure laproscopically which will reduce his stay in hospital to 5-7 days - still that's a fair while. Then two weeks recovery at home following that, and see how you go. It's a biggie isn't it, and it's just starting to hit me. I know I'm only an observer, it isn't me that's it's happening to, but in a way that's even worse because I feel so useless and helpless - when the kids are sick or hurt I can fix them up or at least comfort them but this one is outside my powers, there's nothing I can do. Shut the lid on that box.

Open the next box - the house. Ok, we did eventually get to see the offer made a couple of weeks ago (took the land agent a couple of days to get to us). It wasn't a bad offer, but I didn't feel that we could accept the first offer we got, within 2 weeks of it being on the market. I think Brent would have done without too much persuasion, but his wife is stubborn....so we counter-offered, and the prospective purchaser got her nose in a knot and pulled the plug. She didn't want to negotiate. Her choice, I shrugged my shoulders. But wait.....later in the week the agent came back with a request to view the house and who should it be? The same woman. The plot is definitely thickening, she has connections with our house - is looking to buy it for her daughter, who used to be married to the brother of the guy who built the house and owned it before us. Even more complicating factors - the daughter's daughter works after school with me. Now, how much do they all know, what do I say, how do I act - of course the girls at work want to know how did the viewing go, have we had another offer......I feel like the 3 monkeys, saying nothing. The land agent works in tandem with another one, number one works with the sellers (us) and number two with the purchasers. So, agent number 2 took them through on Saturday, and we haven't heard a damned thing since. Don't you think that's a bit rude? I really feel like contacting number one and telling her - she's very professional and we feel comfortable with her, but the other one does not inspire confidence. She was going to take her clients through the place without even having seen it herself! Hmm. I don't want to be a moaner but any feedback would be better than none.

Sunday was gorgeously sunny, so much so that it inspired me to plant out some plants that I'd bought about a fortnight ago (typical of me) - and it was just prior to doing that, that I bent down to pick a weed up and pinged my back. Oh the pain, the agony. Spent quite a lot of time on hands and knees wondering how I was going to get fully vertical again because each time I tried I got a burst of such pain that I sank down to all fours again. Eventually made it, and spent the rest of the day moving slowly and carefully. Bed that night was not a relaxing place, and I felt like absolute shite in the morning, so took myself off to the doctor who diagnosed "mechanical strain" whatever that means. Pulled muscle? that's what I'd diagnosed. He's given me some anti-inflammatories, and I must admit they've done wonders already. What an old crock! Work is ok so long as I'm careful. Actually, lifting doesn't hurt. Bending down to pick things up does. And I can drive now but it was difficult yesterday.

Husband played number one son at squash on Saturday - first time I've seen them up against each other for real. Age and experience won out over youth and energy but it was a close thing. Brent doesn't think he'll be beating Mike much longer but I reckon once he's fit and well again it will give him a boost. We'll see. It may be a long time before he's bashing balls again.

Found out that my soldier (the letters one) died from Tuberculosis - got his records last week. Coincidentally, there has been a kid at PNBHS go down with TB, and something like 30 out of 50 kids in his classes have tested positive too. That's disgusting in this day and age!! There's talk that the whole school might be tested, no mean feat with a roll of 1500 or so. The infected boy is in the third form, far away from Greg.

Got rid of my heap of shit cellphone that had been playing up for the last couple of months. Bought one from one of my workmates who changes hers regularly, for $100. A bargain I reckon, it even has a camera!

ZZZ time. I'm knackered. But I needed to update.

Cheers,

Jaybee

Mood: Cruisy
Listening to: Silence

It seems that if I have a wine or two or three early in the evening, I wake up in the middle of the night bright and refreshed, ready to go.... trouble is, by the time it is time to be bright and refreshed and ready to go for real, I'm snoring in the depths again!

It's all happening in this joint - the house has been "on the market" for what? two weeks? and we've just heard from the real estate agent that she's received an offer for it and will bring a contract round for us to look at tomorrow. Er, hang on a minute, nobody's been through! Seems the prosepective buyer likes the street and saw the house on the website (there is only one photo there, an outside shot). How bizarre is that?

I'm really not into sell mode - the place, to outside eyes, is a bit of a bomb site, although I look at it as well-lived in. I am gradually beginning to get myself into tidy mode but have the huge obstacle of sentimentality to get over.   If left alone I think I could conquer this but not quickly - but to do it in a short time frame worries me to say the least.

If we did negotiate a sale from this offer, there would have to be certain stipulations: for a start, there's no way we could move within two months. Problem A being hubby is due in hospital in a fortnight and will take at least a month before he's up to anything physical (and moving must be counted as physical!) and Problem B is a lack of anywhere to move to. Minor details lol. Minor like Mt Everest probably.

I have a theory. We're in a seven year cycle. 1999 saw us coping with not one, not two but five major - and I do mean major - events, and went down in history as our annus horribulus (excuse me, your majesty). Now we are doing multiple major life events again! Please, please let it stop at two.

Number two son cracked me up the other night. He was complaining of sore feet, red bumps on his toes that really hurt. This is the kid that has worn Roman sandals right through winter rather than shoes and socks so what's your diagnosis? Yep, same as mine, chilblains. What made me laugh was that he thought he'd got blisters and had tried to pop them (no wonder his feet are sore), and that he's never heard of chilblains. You should have seen his face when I told him the folklore cure! No, he didn't try it. Didn't believe me either and it didn't help when I said "Try Google, it'll back me up" and it didn't! He's going tramping tomorrow, up to Rangi Hut where there will probably be snow. Rest assured he won't be in Roman sandals.

Have to work tomorrow. It's not often I work on a Saturday so I don't really mind but on the other hand it would be a good to have time at home tidying, sorting and chucking out. Never mind, there's always Sunday.

Cheers,

Jaybee

Mood: Confused
Listening to: Birds twittering

Holy guacamole what's been going on here? Suddenly my nice safe comfortable blog has gone all sterile and odd.  I'm not a great one for change, but will try to keep an open mind.

I'm lost for words actually! Feel most disorientated.

Logic tells me to catch up on the biggie of the household, the husband's health, so that's where I'll start. Mind you he's about to get up and I don't like blogging about people who are around me.... We saw the surgeon last week and have booked in for a "laproscopically assisted right hemicolectomy" on August 31. That will involve 5-7 days in hospital, then at least two weeks recovering at home. Part of what they will remove is some lymph nodes or glands, and its not until that bit gets analysed that we will know one way or another, cancer or merely pre cancer. Waiting is not a pleasant thing, causes lots of tiredness, tension,  niggles - but we have lots of distractions too.

Next biggie - the house. New or old? Well as for the old, we put it on the market the week before last with the thinking that by selling up we'd at least know what we had to work on with the new house. The up side will be no bridging finance except what we've got for the section, but the downside is the likelihood of having to move out and rent somewhere before the new place gets built. If we could have our druthers, it would be to find a buyer who will pay the asking price and be happy either for settlement to be way down the track when we're ready, or have us rent until we can move into the new house. We'll just have to take what comes, but then we're getting good at that, comes with practice.

Selling is all a bit of a worry for a person who has been an inefficient housewife for the last twenty something years. Not to mention a hoarder of all things. When the real estate agent first came through I had two hours notice - amazing how much you can pick up and stuff in cardboard boxes in two hours! The trouble is, now I have to go through the boxes to sort the crap from the uncrap. And I can't find lots of things, whereas when they were randomly strewn over the place, I could. The dreadful part is that although we know how great the improvement has been already, an outsider would still cast their eye over the place and think "what a mess"! Even I am beginning to look through a stranger's eye at the house. Sigh. Put it on the list. The To Do list.

The week of the "listing", I was off work with small who had chicken pox. I'd thought he was going to be the only kid in class who missed it, but he was just a late starter.  Lots happened that week, or maybe I was just aware of it because I was home. There was the argument with the rubbish men, they'd missed our wheelie bin the week before and wouldn't take my excess because it wasn't in official bags - after twenty minutes of being staunch and strong I resorted to feeble female weapons, snivelling and mentioning my sick child etc etc. Despicable I know but it worked, then I blasted the office lady because she'd given me special dispensation but hadn't told the guys on the truck. Then there was the visit from the MIL who has been telling all in sundry about the hubby's health and making it sound as though we need to get the shovel out....and the daughter from hell who is still not speaking much to us, although she came home briefly this weekend and spoke but we wish she hadn't because none of it was  pleasant and positive, its all negative and critical which gets a bit hard to bear sometimes.

On a lighter note.....Harold the Tranny.  Not his, er, her real name, but let it suffice.  This six foot vision with pink and purple braided hair, long fingernails, boobs and a two day growth appeared at work and asked me, "Where's the toilet?". At least that's what my ears heard....He had a child with him, about seven I guess, so, assuming it was for the child, I said, "follow me", and half way out to the back I took the drink the child was holding and gave it to "Harold", and we carried on, out the back and up the stairs. "Why are you bringing us here?" asked Harold. "There's the toilet", I replied helpfully. "But I don't want to go", said Harold. "Yes you do," I answered, confused, "you asked where it was!" "I asked where's the Twink!" Oh-My-God.........I have never been so embarrassed in my life. Apologies were profuse, I would willingly have flushed myself away if I could have. The walk back downstairs, out to the shop, to the Twink, to the counter was excruciating. Of course, all the other girls were watching this because of the very interesting nature of the customer, and when they twigged what I'd done, it was almost too much for them. There was a fifteen second pause as "Harold" left the store, then total, utter collapse all round. Strangely enough, the following week our Twink sales were phenomenal, and not at all connected with the Harold incident. But it only takes a customer to ask for Twink and we're off again........

Had cousin from Australia visit this weekend. He arrived in NZ on Wednesday but his bag didn't, so that was a bit of a drama. He got it back eventually on Friday, but not before we'd been shopping for clothes.... I thought he'd do a freeze (we were) but he didn't seem bothered, even went up to Ruapehu on Saturday but without joy as the weather packed in and just got wetter and bleaker. He'd come over to visit his mum who is in a rest home here, but I don't think she knew him, and didn't want to go for a drive with him mainly I suspect for that reason. He soldiered on through three visits though, good on him. He's gone back to Aus now.

Right, I should go for a walk. Have been doing zero exercise and binge eating (comfort eating?) and the result is that I am now the heaviest I have ever been in my life, including when I was pregnant. Yes I feel guilty, but that only makes me reach for another slice of cheese or bag of chips....

Hope this all works, I'll be devastated if it doesn't.

Jaybee

Mood: Blah
Listening to: TV burble

Mood: Bloody tired
Listening to: Fire ticking

Sunday, 10.23pm

Mood: Almost suicidal
Listening to: "Rome" on TV

Sunday, 10.16pm

You have no idea how much I want to scream. I have just written a very long, soulful outpouring and the sodding bitching bloody awful god of computing has wiped the whole lot. It's not fair, I just want to howl. I didn't need that to happen now.

Originally this was titled "Daughters, Dusting and Drivel" Daughters referred to my one who left with a hiss and a roar this afternoon after being home for two centuries whoope weeks. Her horrible demeanour put a cloud over the place, she's rude, lazy, swears and is obnoxiouis to her parents. All this in front of her six year old brother. But its MY bad.

Dusting refers to the domesticity that fell upon the household this weekend. I've been plodding on and wading through trying to clear surfaces - desk top, china cabinet, divider - of the accumulated junk, ornaments, household debris and useful stuff that  has built up over the last days/months/years with half a mind on future moving and house selling, and half a mind that there are six ladies coming round tomorrow night to do a card making course that some lady from PN is coming over to tutor us in. No, I don't know them all, I'm just a sucker who put her hand up and said "you can use my place"... Husband on the other hand did a white tornado round the skirting boards, light switches and grubby marks on doors and walls - much more impressive really. And the really depressing part is that anyone not seeing "before" could not possibly appreciate the "after". The wheelie bin is full to overflowing, that should tell you something.

Have begun typing the Colin letters again after almost a year off. It's weird "listening" to him and imagining my Dad's reactions and replies...ghosts to ghosts. I'm up to January 1942, and what he's not saying is louder than what he is. I'm mentally planning the design and layouts to use in the book, and will start on the rellie search soon.

Amazed at how the floods threatened to repeat 2004 last week as it didn't seem to have rained that much. I'm glad we live right where we are.

Enough, can't recapture what was lost and if this lot goes too I don't know what I'll do.

Jaybee

Mood: Cheerful
Listening to: Dance with the Stars

Sunday, 9.55 pm

I have had a busy (for me) fortnight - one school meeting, two squash games, two scrapbooking classes, one art class, a Prenzel party and the Home Show.

An artist with brushes and canvas, I am not. I knew it; the class confirmed it. Three and three quarters of an hour for one canvas, awful. Five minutes, two canvasses, left over paint on the palatte - wonderful. Tsk tsk. I now have a greater affinity with abstracts.

On the other hand, the scrapbooking classes have got me all enthused, now I just need some unfilled hours to get stuck in! I really, really want to do our last year's Fiji trip, but not until I have time and space to dedicate to it. A weekend retreat would be marvellous. Yeah, as if.

The Home Show gave us lots of ideas to mull over, and we've got a sort of plan draughted up with the help of no. 2 son on the computer - he's really clever at this! Who knows what it could lead to! We both know we want a couple of things - wood fire, solar water heating, island in the kitchen - but there are so many things to consider that its really daunting.

I  have changed the wheelie bin from fortnightly collection to weekly, and am really trying hard to shed possessions. Got snapped by the kids last weekend as I tried to biff some pig ornaments - years ago I mothered some piglets after their mama died in pigbirth, and have collected piggy ornaments off and on ever since, but everybody in the whole world thinks anything porcine is a good gift for me come birthdays and Christmas, and the ranks have swelled ridiculously when there are really only a few self chosen ones that I actually want. Sigh, I tried.

I have got two areas upstairs upstairs designated for ordering chaos - one for keepers and movers and the other for garage sale stuff. Be impressed - I have chucked out our 1985 Christmas cards and Brent's 21st cards. Progress for a magpie. (Well ok I didn't throw them out, I sent them to school in response to a request from the Junior School Art Dept, along with a couple of bags of knitting wool that I know I will regret parting with some day.)

OMG Lorraine has four 10s.

On the positive side, Brent has finished the back staircase so now we can move the piano out as soon as the new piano caregiver can gather enough manpower to move it! He also has fixed the fire damper so that we can turn the fire down overnight and just kick it into life in the morning. Lovely. Even if it hasn't been going long enough to warm the air, the sight of it warms the soul.

And my goodness it has been cold this week. Yes, I know its nothing like what the southerners have had, and we haven't been without power for even five minutes let alone fifteen days - but cold it has been. Number one son has spent the weekend at Ohakune at a squash tournament and it wasn't until after lunch Friday that they knew whether or not they'd be able to get there. As it happened, the road north of Taihape opened around 2pm so they managed.

Oh I do want Beatrice to win. Lorraine is a poser.

Too cold at this end of the house, back to my fire.

Warm wishes,

Jaybee.

Mood: Chuckling
Listening to: More silence

Thursday, 11.11pm

OMG (oh my god) how could I have forgotten to mention the news of the century?

Thinks, now how shall I slip this in casually? Impossible. Just out with it.

Those readers who are Kiwi will probably have heard about the record breaking Lotto win a couple of weeks back. The biggest prize ever won in NZ it was, eighteen million dollars. Well........guess what? It wasn't me. But it was my cousin!!!!! Tickle me arse wiv a fevva I'm still getting over that one. Her mum and my mum were sisters. We had no idea until watching the news one night and heard the interview that Paul Holmes did with the winner - it sounded like cousin Helen. Then bugger me the name came across and it WAS cousin Helen! My dinner nearly fell to the floor, I was speechless, making wild arm movements to Brent who was a bit slow on the uptake. How exciting is that??  And, apart from the normal things (house, car, boat) that any big winner would buy, the biggest excitement for her is that her daughters-in-law and daughter will never ever have to put their kids in daycare and go out and work as she did (she was a single mum with 6 kids at one stage).

And her Prada shoes gave her blisters.

Wow. Amazing. Yep I know money isn't everything, but it is pretty impressive. She deserves to enjoy it - what goes round seems to have come round after all (lots of history which I ain't going to share) which is nice to know, and I know that she'll do lots and lots of good with it.

So there - I bask in reflected dazzle. Mind blowing stuff.

Jaybee