Monday musings

On the step, my step, again before I drag myself into work. There's that cat squealing like a human. And a bee making honey with my phone. It must be Monday. Where the week begins its torment, and strange things might happen. 

It's been a weekend of muchness. Threw my brother into a pond. Or a lake...j think it's too big to be classed as a pond and too small to be a lake so maybe a Lond or a pake? Anyway, he went into a body of water. I didn't throw him...I gently shook some into the water. I have never done anything like it...none of us had, which made it all sorts of things. But it wasn't serious. And that was good. Because Peter was NEVER serious. Not the Peter I knew. How do I feel? Two years after his death, we have finally laid him to rest. It's no secret that he had his demons, that he struggled with life in his later years and we weren't as close as we had been. 

I feel sad that we can't go back to help him more. I feel bereft that my brother is dead and I feel anger that my dad has lost a child. I feel all these things. But I also feel happy that I have some hysterical memories of him, that I had a big brother who hoisted me up on his shoulders, took the Mickey constantly and wasn't shy about giving me a hug. 

Cheers Pete, for making my wishes come true - age 8...I was sick of being an only child and him and Siàn came to live with us. Thank you for being just what I ordered in what I believed a big brother should be. Rest easy. 

If I was....

If I was a spider. I'd do things quite differently to the way the current season of beasties are playing it. 

I wouldn't terrorist my host family. Nope, no way. After all, they are the ones giving me sanctuary from the rain and the wind. I wouldn't wait until bedtime to say hello. I understand they are busy folk and need their rest. I wouldn't even say hello. 

What I would do to say thank you for their hospitality, is eat all the flies they leave for me. I'd find a hidey hole for when the lights are on....keep my distance. Once it's all dark, I'd go about my business. 

I appreciate my hosts aren't keen on cuddles, so I wouldn't snuggle up to them while they were tucked up. 

If I were a spider, I'd live a long life in this house. But I'm not. And the ones in the house, are not so considerate...they delight in terror and scare tactics. They won't last long under my roof. Eviction shall be served. 

September Summer

It's a fact that my step is my place. I've blogged before about it's qualities. 

Tonight, the hottest one of the year and I'm on it. 

There's a breeze blowing warm air. I'm sitting in semi darkness, trying not to think of the wildlife doing its nocturnal things around me. 

It may be September but it sounds a lot like summer. Music in the background, motorbikes humming, people talking in their gardens, the street. These are the nights I adore. 

The stars/planes are twinkling, the silhouettes of trees protecting me. 

I'm wishing this "summer" would stay 

Jumpers

Yesterday was a tough day. I won't lie. It affected me in the week before and in ways I didn't think it would. Played on my mind, screwed with me just a little bit. But I worked it out before it did damage and I set myself a few goals after Monday's hurdle. Just get through that 1 pm appointment and then start. 

And I did. Small steps to a bigger goal. That seems to be the best way. 

I can't express how euphoric I was after 1.45pm. And hurdle 1 had been cleared, smashed. Only a few (hopefully) to go. But while I'm jumping them, I'm putting other plans into motion. And the start of them looks great. 

We need hurdles, to appreciate the goals and the end result. 

Let's jump, you and I. Let's jump and show the hoopleheads what success really looks like. 

The Village

I had this dream about my Papa the other night. That he was alive and well and smoking cigars. I could smell them. And that I wanted him to meet the people he hadn't yet met. He demanded I fetched Nana and an espresso for him.

As whacked out as it sounds, I think he might have come to visit. To impart some of  his 'coolness'. That man was chilled out - in my viewpoint - he died when I was 17 so I only had that view of being his VERY indulged grand daughter. And in a family of pretty damn feisty women (Granny aside), him and my dad were the complete opposite. Mind you, they had the women running around enough so maybe they had the right approach. ;)

But again, back to my dream. I would like to think, and if that's what makes me happy, then that's my belief and what I will think. I would like to think... that the message was that, him and Nana's essence is with me all the time. I can draw on who they were, who they were to me and be calm in the face of whatever is thrown my way. Yes, this week I've been tired, so tired, I've been contemplating what I should do and what Monday is going to bring. So emotions have been high on the agenda. What if's have been travelling through my mind at warp speed.

And you know, I can hear his voice and Nana's voice saying my name and it makes me smile. Little memories like her making me Taystee Wheat even when I was far too old to have it made for me, to sit in her bed, with Horlicks while she read Alice in Wonderland. She wasn't cuddly - but I was loved. And Papa gave the cuddles. She gave me the food I wanted... ALL of it. She told me that I would grow into myself, be beautiful - I really wasn't a pretty pre-teen - teeth that grew awfully, freckles that made boys laugh and hair that behaved like a toddler. She always told me I looked like her grandmother, the spitting image she said. Yet, CG mistook her for me in a photo of years ago so I wonder if she ever saw me in her? I miss her so much.

Wow! I've just seen the date and that's it's Granny's birthday. I was just about to put in this blog about how food dominates our family, I was going to go on about how I don't think Granny's roast will ever be beaten. I can't even work out how old she would have been... but she's been gone for 18 years now. My lovely squishy granny. *sitting her with a huge grin on my face*

My family... I am so lucky to have had amazing people to bring me up. Takes a village, it really did, from Sea Point to Harfield Village. They did well.

Drama and Breathe

I don't like a lot of drama.... I like busy. Busy is good. But drama is not my scene. I used to make it a New Year's Resolutions (or as I like to call it: A When I can Remember).

The thing is this year has had a lot of drama in it.... and on reflection, I've coped admirably well with it. Events tend to upset/excite you when they happen for the first time or when they aren't a common occurrence.

And this is where I sound up my own bum. But I've been fortunate enough to not have had many instances where people are truly mean to me. This changed this year.

I can say it's been such a year already. 9 months in and it's been pretty buzzy all year around. How many cites? I want to say 8 but I'm not sure all of them are cities. Either way, a lot has been achieved this year and so much great stuff. I feel right. But it's niggling me. That there has also been downright nastiness towards me. *oh this doesn't sound childish at all* But more than that, people MUST know they are being horrid so how come I've only had a very short amount of apologies? As childlike as this blog may sound, we are all adults and therefore, if you've done wrong, and you know when you have, you should make amends, you should say sorry.

So the fact, that grown-big-ass women have treated me badly - makes me somewhat sad or a victim. I'm neither... that's my choice.  However, it does make me as angry as a bee without a stinger. As I've typed above, I know when I've done wrong, when I've hurt another and I'll say sorry. I'm needy like that... or an empath... I'm undecided. I do know this is half the reason, my mouth stays shut a lot - for fear of hurting people.

See, now I only strike when I'm hit first... and I'm still smarting from being struck. And I'm the elephant. And deep down, I know it's only bitter stupid women at the end of it...  people who think they can arse around with my life. And it's too much like school.

As I've typed this and read it back... I've realised, I've proved my own theory on woman who don't work. Today, I've not been busy, I have literally done nothing today in comparison to normal. So I've had time to think and analyse out over stupid things that I'm normally not remotely bothered by. People want to talk behind a person's back... that's fine, they're behind me then. People want to be nasty - what exactly can I do about it?

Blogging - it's like therapy-lite.

And this cat is calm again... and actually, that's probably the issue here. Idiot Folk don't really like it when people are happy or smiley or things are going their way. I wouldn't say it's jealously...but Idiot Folk are happiest when there's a drama they can OOOH and AAAH and "Thank God it's not me" over. I don't like drama.

Monday suckiness

My immediate thoughts. 

This will be fine.

This is nothing. 

What an inconvenience. 

My secondary thoughts. 

I like my hair. 

What if. 

My tertiary thoughts. 

It hurts so much.