Slap Me I'm Full of Self Pity

I am sitting surrounded by piles of fabric and scraps of offcuts which I cannot be bothered to sort and pack away. It is Antarctic weather here atm and the gas heater is now misbehaving (although I must say it has the most complete and comprehensible set of instructions inside the metal cover, of any gas heater I have ever encountered! well done Vulcan. Gas heater now operating again although, what is a safety valve and why did it cut in?????)....

So, The Musical is over; my house looks like I'm about to move or I've been burgled; I am full of cold; the BA broke our microwave; my salvageable tooth now has another crack and someone stole my phone. Add to that the upcoming kitchen reno and and you will see why I just want to curl up in a ball.

It is maddening how reliant we are on technology really. So many things which make our lives roll on smoothly and add to our serenity, streak out the window like a newly released budgie when the technology goes missing. So many passwords to remember and account names........what is my apple ID, google ID, INME number on my phone (for return purposes, if it's ever handed in).....? Send me your contact numbers folks so I can build up my bank of phone numbers again! I didn't even know my own daughter's mobile number as I rely on it being in my phone. Then of course you are stuck with a new, low grade non-Apple phone which is almost like having to learn a new language. In fact, it actually gives some insight into Autism. Nothing is intuitive; nothing is where it should be; it asks me questions I do not understand.
"Why is my phone looking at me like that?"

There has been no progress on the house front and will not be until after some minor kitchen renovations and a big garden tidy up. I have let the pool go green, much to Himself's disgust when he comes past, which is not often. Interestingly, the water level went down to below the skimmer box and stopped, which means, as I initially suspected, that the leak is in the filter system rather than structural (whew). It does however mean that I have to get the poolman back and that will mean more expense. Honestly it never ends!!!!

 Right now I can feel the germs making their way down towards my chest so I shall dose up on Vit C and retire to the sofa where I can take solace in knitting. Two pairs of boot cuffs so far and I've started on a cowl.

Speak to you again when I am in a better state.

Travellin' Twice The Speed of Sound

 I help her with her suitcase

 She stands before my eyes

 Driving her to the airport

And to the friendly skies

Going through security

I held her for so long

She finally looked at me and loved

And she was gone

Crosby Stills and Nash

Taken by The Baby Angel from the tarmac, looking back at us. This was just before we all simultaneously, without a word, raised our hands and waved. I wish she had caught that picture. 

That was a sight to remember.

(Me and Himself third from left)

Looking For The Laughing Place

I know I have been threatening to tell you about the 'big falling out' with Small Boy but there is so much to say on that subject and I choke on the thought of much of it. So here's another thing:

Tonight the Baby Angel bussed back into Adelaide after 10 days with Soldier Boy's family in the country town of Tocumwal. She was tired but happy and as we drove home she started to tell me all about it.
"Mum, they are such a great family. They're like the Brady Bunch. They never fight or anything!"
Suddenly she fell silent and I glanced over at her to see eyes choked with huge, fat tears.
"Don't worry mum," her voice wavered,"It's just end of holiday blues."
But I knew that wasn't really it.
They are the Brady Bunch and we are the Munsters. Actually, the Munsters are probably better adjusted than our family. It's like a knife through my heart.

Part of me feels a terrible guilt for not being able to provide her with a 'normal' family situation. It was never my intention to be a single mother for 10 years or to only have an only child, or to be a step mother to three deeply troubled young men. The other part of me shares her grief. I too miss the easy familiarity of close family and the shared life of close friends. We have never quite nailed that here.

The most ironic and gut wrenching aspect of this is that Small Boy's mother has the social life I crave. She has a group of close friends who all congregate at her house on a Friday night where all kinds of hilarity and 'goodtimes' ensue. I know this because Himself goes there. After the 'big falling out', Small Boy did not come to stay with us for a long time and as a result Himself was forced to make the effort to go over to SBM's place to connect with SB on a weekly basis.

Initially I was delighted that Himself was making the effort and, presumably, connecting with Small Boy in a possibly more meaningful way than he did here at our place. After all, he couldn't simply sit at a computer and work.....Initially it was quite nice having an evening to myself as well, I mean, I am quite capable of entertaining myself. But then the BA started to drive. And took my car to work on a Friday night. And suddenly the evil beast 'Resentment' reared its head.

After all, Himself is a self confessed hermit who operates happily in a bubble as long as he knows his 'other half' is somewhere around. He doesn't necessarily need to interact with said 'other half'. So how is it fair that Bubble Man is going regularly on a Friday night to enjoy the company of others whilst Social Girl is sitting at home watching DVDs, drinking copious quantities of 'soothe yourself' vintage and wondering where the f*** she went wrong with this picture!!!!!!

So, when the BA breaks down and expresses a longing for an integrated family and friends group (something like the mother of Small Boy has) my heart breaks too.

And deep down  know I have the capacity to develop these networks and establish this social network.

I need to do it. For the BA and I.

The rest of them can muddle on regardless.