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The end is nigh. The point of no return. The grand finale.
This is where you, the reader can feel free to insert whatever dramatic quote you like. I was thinking of a bit of Dylan Thomas myself. Or even a bit of Shakespeare, the bard is always handy for a descriptive word or two.
Not into poetic quotes? What about a Doors song then? ‘ The End’ seems remarkably apt.
Scratching your head yet? Wondering what on earth I am blathering on about this time?
Sorry.
Fear makes me a little more scatterbrained than usual.
Today, in approximately three hours I am having all my teeth taken out. The whole twelve of them that I have left that is. All my teeth will be unceremoniously yanked out. One by painful one. Then I will be sent home with a brand new set of shiny plastic choppers.
So what are you doing today my lovelies?
Tell me a story to cheer me up. Come out of lurkerdom and say “Hello Kimmy”
It would be very nice to come home from the dentist and be totally distracted from the pain and the dreadful lisp by your fantastic comments. It would be especially nice to see where some of my lurkers come from.
If you need me in the next two hours or so, I will be hiding under the bed.Shhhh.
Generally the title of a post will pop into my head and the words will just flow. Some days the words take on a life all of their own and seem to spill onto the paper of their own volition. Other days are like this one where the words don’t want to come out to play at all. I am trying to coax them out letter by letter but the bloody things are being coy this week and in their shyness they become all jumbled.
I have been flatstick busy and I am missing my blog but by the same token I haven’t really had anything to say.
As we head closer to winter I can feel a darkness of spirit settling about myself. I wouldn’t describe myself as being depressed, not by a long shot but my mood of late has been bleak.
I am worried that Veronica will end up in a wheelchair by the time that she is thirty. The birth of Isaac has seemed to really accellerate her Ehlers Danlos syndrome. She is dislocating left, right and centre. It is like her EDS has decided to leap out of hiding and announce to the world, “Hi I am here and I am going to really fuck you over.”
My son David has started to smoke the occassional cigarette because he is stressed. David is a well educated boy who knows the dangers assosciated with smoking and he has decided to smoke anyway. I am heartsick.
# David has now decided to stop smoking. Hmmm, amazing what getting sprung will do.
Mum isn’t allowed to drive anymore so I am officially Mum’s chauffeur. I wish that I had a chauffeurie type hat though.
The accelerated destruction of the magnificent old growth forests in the Upper Florentine breaks my heart. Despite a global fall in demand for woodchips these forests are being destroyed and chipped. Total Fucking insanity.
And just in case Tasmanians were in any doubt about the direction our government is taking us the Premier has just recently announced that State Cabinet voted to abolish the Department of Environment, Parks, Heritage and the Arts as part of a cost-cutting drive. More Fucking insanity.
In other equally depressing news I received a reply from Woolworths assuring me that things on that horrific factory farm are being fixed as we speak. Right and all the pigs are growing wings as well are they?
So these are a few of the things that are whizzling around in my head at the moment. But it is not all bad.
Mum is booked in for a quick zap of radiation treatment next week. Well five quick zaps to be precise. The radiation will shrink some tricky little bone mets in the back of Mum’s skull as well as one in her jaw. Unfortunately this means that Mum is going to lose her hair. So we went up to a zombie free section of the hospital and had fun trying on the wigs.
I have managed to squeeze some work in, I packed and fired the small kiln on Thursday. I am really excited to see how this lot of work turns out. Jientje’s tumblers are in this firing, as well as some side plates that I have been mucking about with.
Lets get the sour grapes out of the way first. Shall we?
The winners of The Bloggies were announced last week and the winner of the Best Australian Weblog was, Girl With a Satchel. Congratulations to the writers of GWAS but if this webmag is representative of an Australian blog then Australian blogging is in very bad shape. We may as well all give up now and go home and read out of date ‘New Ideas’ and drool over the celebrities of the moment.*sigh*
Girl With a Satchel is very slick and professionally put together but that is nothing less, than what I would expect from an ezine with this as its blurb.
A daily magblog (a daily blog with magazine-style content), written by a Sydney-based glossy magazine editor, providing industry insights, magazine reviews, internet shopping updates, beauty product reviews, thoughts on Christianity, pop-culture musings and girlie finds.
If you want information on celebrities, or need help finding just the right shade of pretty pink lipstick, then Girl With a Satchel is the place to be.
But if you want to read stories written by real Australians. Stories that will make you cry, nod your head in recognition or laugh so much that you snort coffee out your nose. Then go and read these ladies, the other finalists in the best Australian categories..
Kelley from Magneto Bold Too
Tiff from My Three Ring Circus
Veronica from Sleepless Nights.
Tokyo Girl Down Under was a finalist as well..
Ok now for the Chemotherapy. Mum had her second infusion of chemotherapy drugs yesterday. Mum’s cancer has decided that it doesnt want to be confined to her lungs. Oh no. This cancer has decided to go out and colonise the world and fuck things up, much like the British did in centuries past.
I just keep on getting images of a teenage skinhead in ‘bovva boots’ stomping about the place. *sigh* Except that it is a toxic cocktail of chemicals that is doing all the stomping. Laying waste to my Mother’s immune system, in the hope of shrinking the tumours so that we can have just a little bit more time.
Oh and the bad back, well that would be me. I have spent the past week or so hobbling and shuffling around like an old woman. But I am much better now and if anything it has made me empathise a bit more with how Mum must be feeling. Because there is nothing quite like a touch of serious pain now and then to make you apreciate the joys of walking about pain free..
Flat flat flat.. Some days I wonder if it is the affects of this planet’s gravity that is doing my head in, or if I am just having an ‘old’ day..
I don’t know if I am sulking or not but I am certainly stewing on something. Or is that stewing over something? Anyway I have got a serious case of the hmmmphs and my stormy teacup needs to be put away.
Last week I commented somewhere and my comment was deleted, the post was then subsequently edited to bring attention to my deleted comment. I was treated like a troll when in fact I had used my name and url. Hmmmph!!!
So I have been thinking about my own comment policy, which before last week was non-existant. Policy? What policy? Gah! I sound like a politician. I like Mrs C’s comment policy, so I have decided to steal it adopt it. (just like a politician)
You can say anything you want if you’re respectful about it and don’t cuss. :]
I think that is fair enough too..
So now because it is my birthday and I need to stop thinking about the troll thing. I am going to giveaway two ceramic drinking vessels. I haven’t made them yet so if you are prepared to wait, (Petra waited 11 months and 29 days for her platter) all you have to do is comment and I will use a random number generator thingy to choose the winner on Valentines day..
I took a lot of photos this week. Lots and lots and lots and lots.
