And I shouldn't be. Thinking always gets me into trouble or confused, I need to think about which.
I really need to spend less time thinking of the what might ofs and the what ifs, it's a path that really shouldn't be taken. I will sit there watching TV, miss half of what I'm watching because I'm thinking to much, then I'll sit there and watch the replay thinking about how I should of been watching this instead of thinking. What the hell was I thinking about again? Oh yeh, then I start thinking about just what I was thinking about while watching the show and miss the replay.
It's a vicious circle.
Having a brain that is active enough to think is a good thing, not being able to turn it off is not. Lying in bed, drifting off, then the brain switches on, thinking thinking thinking. Even reading is not an escape from the thought process. I'm starting to rewrite books in my head, and that cannot be a good thing, at least unless I write my own and I earn some money for it. There's a thought a famous author, raking in the millions, my books made into movies that win Oscars, oh I could have a hand in picking the actors, wow the possibilities are endless. Of course I'd remain a normal person, well I think I would anyway. Maybe I should think about what life would be like, but no that's turning it all on again, and as long as I'm typing I'm reasonably safe, unless of course, my brain starts to turn and I actually stop typing while I'm thinking. I need to type faster so that my brain can't start thinking of anything else but what I'm typing.
And there it goes, interrupting me. And what is it I'm thinking of you might ask, well that's a big problem, cause it's basically nothing as far as I can tell. Occasionally I'll start thinking about one thing that maybe happened during the day, or I'll see a photo and think about getting a new frame or I'll remember when and where it was taken, before I know it, my brain has gone off on some wild tangent and I'm no longer thinking about anything simple. Whether it's some wild plot to take over the world or just something like, how much salt is a pinch of salt, I mean really who the hell knows that one. What if my pinch is bigger than the authors pinch, will that make all the difference in the cooking or the tasting? And who determined that we could use such inane measurements anyway. I can imagine somebody in medieval times stirring their pot of rabbit stew over a fire, picking up the salt and adding it bit by bit till they got the right taste, and declaring 'It was only a pinch of salt I needed everyone.' or maybe they'd say it like 'tis only a pinch of salt to be added to the pot milady'. How the hell anyone ever understood anyone else in those days is another thought spinning round and around.
The sad thing is, while I may be thinking constantly I'm not actually thinking about any one thing enough to invent it, or I'm not pondering some new law or the problems in another country that I might solve if I could only get my thinking in order. I could be a peacemaker, or I could have a nobel prize in my head, but no one will ever know.
And there you have it, a day in my life, thinking about a photo frame and I'm suddenly stirring a pot of rabbit stew and adding salt to it, while not being able to speak the language. The 2 things have nothing to do with the each other, and yet they are both in my head rattling around. Anyone who ever tells me I'm empty headed needs to get in there and have a look. Pretty sure I've got thoughts in there from before I existed, maybe I should stop typing and go and have a look..............................................
Catch yas
Cathy
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
I'll help you pack
There comes a time in every mothers life when finally all the kids are moved out of home and getting on with their own lives (well we can hope they all move out). It doesn't mean that they stop being our kids or that they are grown up, cause as any mother knows your kids are never grown up. They will always and forever be those rosy cheeked rascals running around in the park, those cuddly babies that could wrap you around their little finger, and even those obnoxious teens who seemed to know it all.
Even when they have their own children, they are still our babies. As a mother we know our children aren't perfect (that's reserved for our perfect grandchildren), but we love them unconditionally and would throw ourselves under a bus to save them from harm. We let them learn life's lessons whether they are heartbreaking or not, and are there to support them when they fall. We laugh with them, we yell at them, we cry with them and for them, we hug them and we love them. They are a part of us and they will be for the rest of our lives and beyond.
But what happens when they leave the nest, what do we do then? Well in my case I'll probably move the treadmill and the spare TV into his room after sterilisation. Then I'll put a bed in the snakes bedroom (yep the snake will be going right along with him). And I'll sleep in, get up for work, vacuum and clean whenever I want, not when he's awake. Go to sleep without the sounds of the TV or stereo, and not get woken when he comes home at 3 am. I'll only cook if and when I want to, I will probably only do laundry once a week, and if I want to have a shower in the middle of the night I damn well will.
Then I'll sit there and listen to how quiet the house is, and wonder what my kids are doing. Are they okay without me? Do they need any help with anything? And I'll wonder when I get to see them next.
I'll still be a mother, but I won't be the same mother that I am now. I know I'll feel unneeded, unnecessary even and as I'm a widow I'll be alone. So I'll call up the kids, or grab a random grandchild to spend the night with Nana. But whatever I do, I won't be sitting quietly, I won't suddenly conform to the ideal of the Nana, and I won't suddenly become old. I simply refuse!!!!!!!!!!
I think I've been a fun mother, I know I've done something right as my kids are naturally perfect. We don't take ourselves or anyone else seriously and sometimes people have been shocked by us, but we don't care. We've always known that introducing anyone new to the family to our dead husband and father was weird, but if they can't handle it, they don't make the grade. Life is meant to be lived as best you can with whatever you have, even if it is only a little.
It will be strange when it finally happens, I have never lived alone. From the moment my eldest was conceived I was a mother and that has defined me for all these years. So when the time comes I'll adjust as I've always adjusted and move on to the next phase.
Catch yas
Cathy
Even when they have their own children, they are still our babies. As a mother we know our children aren't perfect (that's reserved for our perfect grandchildren), but we love them unconditionally and would throw ourselves under a bus to save them from harm. We let them learn life's lessons whether they are heartbreaking or not, and are there to support them when they fall. We laugh with them, we yell at them, we cry with them and for them, we hug them and we love them. They are a part of us and they will be for the rest of our lives and beyond.
But what happens when they leave the nest, what do we do then? Well in my case I'll probably move the treadmill and the spare TV into his room after sterilisation. Then I'll put a bed in the snakes bedroom (yep the snake will be going right along with him). And I'll sleep in, get up for work, vacuum and clean whenever I want, not when he's awake. Go to sleep without the sounds of the TV or stereo, and not get woken when he comes home at 3 am. I'll only cook if and when I want to, I will probably only do laundry once a week, and if I want to have a shower in the middle of the night I damn well will.
Then I'll sit there and listen to how quiet the house is, and wonder what my kids are doing. Are they okay without me? Do they need any help with anything? And I'll wonder when I get to see them next.
I'll still be a mother, but I won't be the same mother that I am now. I know I'll feel unneeded, unnecessary even and as I'm a widow I'll be alone. So I'll call up the kids, or grab a random grandchild to spend the night with Nana. But whatever I do, I won't be sitting quietly, I won't suddenly conform to the ideal of the Nana, and I won't suddenly become old. I simply refuse!!!!!!!!!!
I think I've been a fun mother, I know I've done something right as my kids are naturally perfect. We don't take ourselves or anyone else seriously and sometimes people have been shocked by us, but we don't care. We've always known that introducing anyone new to the family to our dead husband and father was weird, but if they can't handle it, they don't make the grade. Life is meant to be lived as best you can with whatever you have, even if it is only a little.
It will be strange when it finally happens, I have never lived alone. From the moment my eldest was conceived I was a mother and that has defined me for all these years. So when the time comes I'll adjust as I've always adjusted and move on to the next phase.
Catch yas
Cathy
Saturday, January 5, 2013
When did that happen....
When did I stop loving the heat? I grew up with a swimming pool in the backyard, yet we spent most of time hanging around at the creek or the local swimming pool. We'd take train trips down to the beach with friends, and not come home till it got dark. I'd walk for miles to go for a swim in the creek then back home again in the heat without thinking about it. Sure we'd say it was hot, but we didn't care. Now I toss and turn all night while the fan does its feeble best to cool me down long enough for me to get some sleep. Oh did I mention I don't have air conditioning. Rental house here not going to pay to put it in so someone else can benefit. I do however, have a portable AC that hangs around in the lounge room. I'm thinking of moving it into my room.
It's not the sort that will cool the whole house, it does have one of those thermostat things that is supposed to shut it down when it reaches the temp selected, hasn't shut down once. It's not powerful enough to cool the whole house, but it is good enough to cool the house to a bearable temp and that's good enough. Every time I rolled over last night, I missed the cooling breeze from the fan on my face, so I've woken up this morning with a crick in my neck from sleeping on one side all night. I lay there before being forced to get up to pee, enjoying the breeze and contemplated staying there forever. I'm thinking of picking up another fan for the other side of the bed, so I can be blasted with the breeze from all angles. Probably something I'm not supposed to do, but if it means I can sleep I'll do it. I'm lucky that there is only my body in my bed, don't think I could handle the heat radiating from another.
I long for the cooler months, while others whine about how it's so cold, I'm revelling in getting outside and mowing the lawn or doing some gardening. Right now my grass and weeds are just getting taller and taking hold. I looked at the grass this morning, and thought right get it done, before I'd even gotten my joggers on I was sweating so it can wait. I don't care that all my neighbours lawns are nicely mowed and whipper snipped. My yard can be a mess for the Summer, I swear I'll get to it when Autumn hits. I did water the flowers and refill the birdbath yesterday, so it's not completely neglected. Maybe I should think about paying someone to do it for me, maybe I should wait till I'm caught up on the Christmas bills, and by that time it will be cooler and I'll just do it myself.
We lived in a house with a pool after my husband died. I'd be mowing the lawn and just pause while I dived in to cool down, the lawn wasn't anywhere near as big as this one. My backyard is so big you could fit another house in. It's all terraced and covered with absolute rubbish plants. Takes all day to get it done, but if it was all level it would be done in an hour. The front isn't as big but there is this slope at the side, I get the mower down and then it's a war to get it back to the top. I know I shouldn't whine about the size of the yard, how lucky I am to even have one, blah blah, but when I think of summer and having to mow it, I break out in hives. I have nightmares about sweating so much while mowing I collapse and no one knows I'm out there somewhere lying in the middle of an uncut lawn. the grass would just grow up higher and no one would see me. My body would mummify and I'd become an urban legend, The Mummy in the Backyard. Ooooo spooky.
So today, Sunday, a good day for mowing, I'll instead sit in my hot house trying to get cool as the AC does it's best. Then tonight I'll lie in bed tossing and turning trying to sleep, and waiting for Autumn when I can emerge like a butterfly and do some gardening and mowing.
Catch yas
Cathy
It's not the sort that will cool the whole house, it does have one of those thermostat things that is supposed to shut it down when it reaches the temp selected, hasn't shut down once. It's not powerful enough to cool the whole house, but it is good enough to cool the house to a bearable temp and that's good enough. Every time I rolled over last night, I missed the cooling breeze from the fan on my face, so I've woken up this morning with a crick in my neck from sleeping on one side all night. I lay there before being forced to get up to pee, enjoying the breeze and contemplated staying there forever. I'm thinking of picking up another fan for the other side of the bed, so I can be blasted with the breeze from all angles. Probably something I'm not supposed to do, but if it means I can sleep I'll do it. I'm lucky that there is only my body in my bed, don't think I could handle the heat radiating from another.
I long for the cooler months, while others whine about how it's so cold, I'm revelling in getting outside and mowing the lawn or doing some gardening. Right now my grass and weeds are just getting taller and taking hold. I looked at the grass this morning, and thought right get it done, before I'd even gotten my joggers on I was sweating so it can wait. I don't care that all my neighbours lawns are nicely mowed and whipper snipped. My yard can be a mess for the Summer, I swear I'll get to it when Autumn hits. I did water the flowers and refill the birdbath yesterday, so it's not completely neglected. Maybe I should think about paying someone to do it for me, maybe I should wait till I'm caught up on the Christmas bills, and by that time it will be cooler and I'll just do it myself.
We lived in a house with a pool after my husband died. I'd be mowing the lawn and just pause while I dived in to cool down, the lawn wasn't anywhere near as big as this one. My backyard is so big you could fit another house in. It's all terraced and covered with absolute rubbish plants. Takes all day to get it done, but if it was all level it would be done in an hour. The front isn't as big but there is this slope at the side, I get the mower down and then it's a war to get it back to the top. I know I shouldn't whine about the size of the yard, how lucky I am to even have one, blah blah, but when I think of summer and having to mow it, I break out in hives. I have nightmares about sweating so much while mowing I collapse and no one knows I'm out there somewhere lying in the middle of an uncut lawn. the grass would just grow up higher and no one would see me. My body would mummify and I'd become an urban legend, The Mummy in the Backyard. Ooooo spooky.
So today, Sunday, a good day for mowing, I'll instead sit in my hot house trying to get cool as the AC does it's best. Then tonight I'll lie in bed tossing and turning trying to sleep, and waiting for Autumn when I can emerge like a butterfly and do some gardening and mowing.
Catch yas
Cathy
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