FIRST DAY GRIPES

I was soooooo bored today, doing the first ten-hour shift, my first day of real work. It's not as sociable as I thought it would be; I was a little lonely. Though mostly, I was on the phone, slaving my brains out trying to solve problems without asking for tooooo much help. So really, there was only a few minutes now and again when the phone didn't ring and I could swing around in my chair, looking out of the window. And poor old Billy-bob wanted a window but he's stuck way inside the room, in a different team on his lonesome. I never got to speak to him because he's on an earlier shift. A very flat day all round.

I kept picturing myself leaving and not coming back, but I can't afford to walk out on a well-paid job before I have another one in place; and I can't just leave just because I'm bored. So, I'll be there tomorrow, for another ten-hour shift, counting the pounds in the pay-packet - admiring the lovely figures on my payslip.

Must speak to someone tomorrow about going part-time before I do something stupid.

TIME, BEER & ROSES

I'm feeling a whole lot better about the job now; I had the fantastic idea to ask if I could go part-time, so it doesn't look so daunting. If I'm knackered just working 4 weeks 9-5, what would I be like ploughing through ten hour shifts? When I first looked at the rota these huge shifts seemed to be across five days but it's only 9-5 Saturday and 10-2 on Sunday. Hopefully I'll only have to do this one week; am sending up little prayers for part-time status. I won't have a life otherwise; won't have time to write, to finish the novels, play with my arty-farty stuff. I look at the pile of scrapbooking goodies I haven't had time to even open and wish I was ten years older and retired!

We all went for a drink in town last night; first time I've been in a pub for a couple of years, I think. Back to lovely pints of beer; went down a treat but I was kind of nervous of getting seriously pissed and being sick - never a good idea when you have lockjaw. I hadn't been in the Horseshoe Bar in an age, but I'd never been upstairs in the karioke lounge. It was amazing. Our two young men got up to sing and were fabulous; Billy-bob was brilliant at 'Bed of Roses' and got a standing ovation, which we started. A great night out to seal our new friendships.

I haven't had the energy to do anything here all week, even to put down the stuff that happened with Amazon on Thursday...I'll get to it later tonight, maybe.

DUMB, DUMB & DUMBER

Today was hard; I felt out of control and lost most of the time. This is the last few days of training then we will be let loose on the unsuspecting world; there will be help and supervision but I just pray that I don't feel like this, then. I have never felt so useless and stupid - I keep making the same mistakes over and over again; not immediately following each other, no: I get it right sometimes then go all to hell...it's a bit like pulling the petals off flowers, now you see it now you don't. Yesterday I was depressed and planning on looking for a job in a sandwich shop. Today I wanted to be a cleaner - I know how to do that, and I'm good.

I almost burst into tears this afternoon. I can't bear not being in control of my mind; it just won't do what I want it to do. By the end of the day I felt a little better but then I took a call that was someone accepting a quote he'd got earlier; I missed out a whole page of script!

It's so annoying to discover that you're much more stupid than you thought you were!

DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES

Not laughing open-mouthed yet; this is the fifth day lock-jawed and nothing has changed, not even after two whole days of antibiotics, and a bit of Friday. I'm beginning to hallucinate and dream of huge sandwiches in soft white bread or crisp baguette heaving with hams, pepperoni and jalopino peppers in fabulous sauces. I might be facing some kind of bombardment from gamma rays or lazers to demolish the stone, which is probably tiny. Or maybe I could just get someone to give me a good thump on the jaw. That's what Morag and Hamish said tonight, at the hospital.

She is looking great; even walking better/straighter than she was before. She said that's because the bag's not there; she was always aware of it and the fear of it coming off somehow. She's a new woman, and Hamish is elated at how good she is, compared to all the other times she's been in hospital. I know that the real difference is that this time the operation was elective and she was much stronger - not ill in fact, either before or after. They're so wary of feeling good, of calling down bad luck on themselves; they're not going to think too far forward - their minds are still full of all the other times when she was banging on death's door. Let's hope he's off on tour somewhere.

EARLY MUSINGS

I've just noticed the advert above here for a 'swollen gland' problem, and the trojian virus too. It's scary how some computer programme scans everything I'm writing so it can assign the adverts. This is more than big brother; Dad, Grandad and all the Uncles have poked their oars right in.

I'm still locked up tight but full of medication. Off to see the Loch Lomond mob today; it's Tough Guy's birthday and I forgot to post anything for him, so I must present myself. He's five already; I am constantly amazed at how people grow when I'm not looking. I'll phone TocToc to find out if there's anything in particular I should buy. I'm thinking I might have a little wander in Dumbarton; I've only ever been there once, for a few minutes...and if I'm planning on moving out that way I should have a look at my new territory. So I suppose I should get up and get dressed then.

LOCKED UP TIGHT

I went straight from work to casualty tonight; that's three days with lockjaw and cuppa soup, I thought it was time to do something. Three hours later I'm told, by the face specialist, that there is a stone in the saliva duct and that the gland is infected - which is why my jaw has siezed up. They x-rayed my head in a strange machine where I stood up, fitted my chin into a little shelf and the thing spun around my head. No, it was definitely the machine and not my head that was spinning, though I wouldn't have been surprised if it'd been the other way round. What a day I had at work; I'm sure I actually felt my mind drain out of my right ear as I answered the phone to my trainer who was in the process of assessing my calls. I bumbled through the fake call, trying to remember everything I was supposed to do; it's all these things at the same time that's getting me - not that I can't multi-task. I know that by this time next week it will all be fine but it just feels so awful right now. I've never felt so dumb!

The doctor gave me two courses of antibiotic to take together (well I assume I take both together) and paracetamol - free drugs are always welcome. Actually I was quite impressed because I was examined by two doctors, x-rayed and examined some more. The bad news is that I was supposed to be having a lovely drink with my friend Herman tomorrow night and will have to postpone because of the antibiotic, mainly, but also because I wouldn't be able to wolf down crisps and dip as well as I might. So, it's probably a good time to unpack some stuff properly and do a bit of housework in this flat.

I spoke to Carrie on the phone and she's a lot better, but need to stop her from drifting into the bitter ex camp...and there is a bit of flirting going on when HE pops in for a coffee. So, she's not out of the woods yet. He seems to be skipping gaily along, forgetting that he's broken her heart, and taking the friends tag a little too far - he just doesn't know when to stop.

I was right next door to Morag in the hospital tonight but missed the visiting time; but desperate to get home anyway - starving mostly. As soon as I arrived I got Musician to order a pizza - it took over an hour to get here but it was worth it. Eating was excruciating but I had to get some solid food down me. And now it's bedtime already. Nighty-night.

CUSTOMERS, HERE I AM!

Well, tomorrow is the last day of study in our training period; we take to the phones in the model office on Monday!!! My head is full of criteria, excesses and vehicle details, which will all drain right out when I answer my first call. We spent a day on the phones last week, doing sales, and that was a complete nightmare. The talking to customers was fine; it was just the idea of keeping them on hold while we bumbled around trying not to make serious mistakes. It’s amazing how the mind copes with the strain of all this – it just pops off on holiday, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops.

Customer Support is a little different; we’ve spent a few hours listening-in to seasoned agents, some of them pretty fresh meat themselves. I’m sure I’m going to like the job; I mean what’s not to like? There are quiet times when you can chat to colleagues, read your email, scribble some poetry or have a quick manicure…and, you get your own desk where all kinds of paraphernalia can adorn the divider in front of you. I’ve never had a job with a desk; I’m 53 and have my own desk - isn’t that cute? They operate a tidy desk policy, so I don’t think plants are allowed, but I can have a photo of one, I suppose.

I do like the idea of just sitting there, queen of my little castle, solving myriad problems with a click of my wand/mouse…oh my god, I’m the Fairy Godmother!

HOW ILL DO YOU HAVE TO BE?

I know I've always wanted to be different, create my own particular space in the world, but it's just getting ridiculous now - I've got some kind of lockjaw! Other people get colds and flu, broken wrists or tonsilitus. I've been on cuppa soup all day and now am pretty hungry. Of course I've shoved chocolate in there, but because I can't open my mouth I want all the things I can't fit in. I stood at the hot plate in the cafe at work this lunchtime and eyed up what looked like lovely mince with carrot and stuff; I was trying to make my jaw do the popping thing it was doing earlier but it wouldn't move, and pain was rearing its ugly head. I realised that I wouldn't be able to eat anything except soup and left the queue.

I had this about twenty years ago and it lasted for three days I think, but of course, I didn't go to the doctor, it went away and I never discovered what had happened. A few years later I had the most excruciating pain in my jaw every time I ate something really tasty and the more I tried the more it swelled. That lasted a day or so and went away, but when it happened again I did go see my doctor and she said I had a stone in my syliva duct. She sent me to hospital for tests and I felt so stupid by then because it had long gone. They had me lying on this mad machine with my head on a separate section; it was all very odd. I don't know whatever happened after that, about the results I mean.

I had the pain with tasty food earlier this year, for a couple of days; and now it's back with a vengeance; all symptoms together in the one place at the same time. The popping jaw is horrible, the click sounds loud as anything inside my head; every time I open and close my mouth the hinge of my jaw kind of bangs in and out of place - maybe I've dislocated my jaw! Maybe it would be a good idea to find out about this. I did call the doctor's office to ask if they could squeeze me in after work but they don't see patients after 5pm. They're not open at the weekend, so when can I get to see a doctor for a minor complaint? NEVER! it seems. I'm not taking a day off work for a minor thing and I wouldn't go to casualty, so I suppose I'll have to make an appointment for my day off and try to describe the symptoms. Wouldn't it be better all round if the doctor could see us when we were actually ill, and displaying said symptoms?

BEAUTIFUL GRANDCHILDREN

Number one grandson is, Bouncer
Number two, Shouts at the Sea
Number three, Comedian
Number four, Tough-guy
Number five, Power Ranger
Grandaughter is, Grubby Angel

The best thing about them, by far, is the fact that I am not responsible; I can leave when it all gets too noisy, or if they're at mine I can call their parents to come get them. I don't see them often enough for them to get too familiar and rude; so I usually get them at their best, which is NICE. I'm planning to go visit them sometime after work this week. This is a big year for a few of them: Power Ranger and Tough-guy started school; Bouncer started secondary school; and Grubby Angel started nursery. I haven't been up there since I've been back; they turned up here in my first week and terrified Musician's little cat, who I'm now going to rename Topcat.

SETTLING IN - OLD HABITS

As far as food goes, today is Hedgehog Bloomer Day; I have to eat it while it's fresh, soft and crisp, so that means lunch, dinner and supper - even though lunch was around 5pm. I've been to visit Morag in hospital and she looks great. Things are moving along nicely and she might be out in four or five weeks, hopefully; if she doesn't get any infections that is.

I spent most of yesterday working my way through a website-builder wizard and I am happy to say that it's all looking rather bloody good. It'll be a writing website mainly but it will include the arty farty, and stuff for sale. I haven't attempted to upload photos yet, I think I'm going to leave that for tomorrow night. At this rate It'll be a couple of weeks before it's finished and published. The whole arty stuff for sale bit has given me an idea; I thought I might make up a little book of my published poems and scrapbook them - something simple, cheap but that will effectively make them different and attractive.

The rain has stayed away today, though the sky was purple in the distance as I taxied it back from Asda with the lovely bread. I'm finding it difficult to believe that I'm in the same universe these days; four years in Devon has wiped all memory of Glasgow summers. I look at the sky most days and am astounded that it is still only August; it feels like February.

DINNER

And another lovely weekend hovers; I've never looked forward to weekends for years - never worked 9-5 or these regular hours for decades.

Musician brought me a box (a little one) of chocolate macaroons, so I'll be having them for dinner. See what I mean about me not eating proper food when I'm let loose in the world; I need old people around me to cook for. I don't think I've had a vegetable for four weeks!

So, I'm popping off now to eat my macaroons with a mug of Earl Grey.

THER'S A VIRUS LOOSE ABOOT THIS HOOSE

This boy, Musician, was let loose on my laptop on the net for one day and caught himself/me a Trojan! He says he turned off my AVG and turned down my security so everything would go faster. When I accused him of damaging my lovely machine he denied it and said that the flashing pop-up was from my system. I couldn’t believe that I actually knew more than him about it; I think it was just that I know my own machine and that it was completely obvious it wasn’t a real message from my system. Apparently it’s a new piece of spyware from a Trojan called Zlob, called Virusprotect Pro…so watch out for it. It sits on your task bar and flashes up a warning every five minutes, taking the curser so you can’t continue typing! It tells you that you need to update your spyware protection and when you click into it, it demands that you buy their product; we’ve tried everything to get rid of it and can’t. I googled it and found a few references and descriptions and an offer of a free download called Spyhunter that would get it out of my system. I got it and ran a scan which told me that it had found a lot of spyware but when I clicked on the FIX button it demanded that I buy their product in order to do this.

So the next thing is for Musician to disappear the task bar and see if that helps. If not, I’ll need to ask a computer technician for advice…even to buying Norton or something; I won’t be blackmailed into buying programmes I don't choose. This is all so annoying and I don't want to go into my bank or buy anything if there's this spyware watching everything I'm doing - especially when I don't know exactly what kind it is. I don't want to fork out for a big programme if it can't fix this; if it's as new as it might be then Norton probably won't do it. Just had a thought to contact Microsoft...yes, that's what I'm going to do first, and ask their advice.

THE BAG IS GONE

I got to speak to Morag on the phone tonight; the staff nurse took the mobile unit to her - handy that. I called the High Dependency Unit this afternoon and they said that she'd been sent to a ward, and gave me the number. I couldn't get through to them because they were busy every time I tried. When I called tonight the ward said that she wasn't there, that she was in the HDU. My God - who the hell is in charge of this place?

She sounded good, just as if she was sitting at home on her sofa. She's been cut and trimmed and sewn up completely; no bag, no leaking holes - let's hope she stays that way. The main worry now is infection; that could kill her. After the operation they sent her from HDU to the ward far too early and she had to be taken back. Apparently the surgeon was mad as hell; he worked on her for nine hours. Hopefully I'll get up to see her by the weekend. She and her husband are ecstatic that the bag is gone - what a blight on a life is a stinky bag, outside the body, with the ever-present threat of bursting.

I'M BACK IN THE SADDLE, AT LAST

I am sooo knackered. Just got in from another gruelling day sitting down, listening and practising telesales; we have to do two days on the phone in sales…TOMORROW, as part of our training before we move on to the last two weeks. It’s scary stuff. I’m not scared of the talking on the phone but I hate the thought of ending up in a clunky babble and keeping the customers on the line for ages waiting for their quote. I know I’ll be alright eventually; it’s just trying to remember all the information that’s clogging up inside my head, and to get the right bits out at the right time.

I haven’t had time to go to Amazon’s and get online but we’ve got the landline here at Musician’s now, so everything is just hunky-dory. I've got him cooking lovely food at the moment so I will be quick here, for now. We're having bacon, sausage and scrambled egg; scrambled eggs with cheese is his speciality.

FEELIN' GOOD

I've just spent ages setting up an account with 1 & 1; it wouldn't accept my address properly, kept adding bits that had no business being there. Eventually I got through it and now have to wait for the free software to arrive so I can build my new writer's website. I'll have a blog with it which I will keep strictly for writing stuff; I shouldn't need to update it every day. I'll play with links; still don't know how to add links here.

Went to see Harry Potter at the IMAX cinema yesterday; the last twenty minutes were in 3D - absolutely fantastic. I took Bouncer, number-one grandson. He loved it, and kept muttering what was happening all the way through, just because he's read the book. I had to tell him to shut up several times. If you're anywhere near Glasgow, this is definitely the place to see this film, and it's only about a pound more expensive than the ordinary cinema. I just couldn't believe the effects; found myself saying, 'My goodness, oh my, wow!' I even reached my hand out a few times because it seemed like the characters were right beside me. Absolutely stunning.

I actually did some writing last night, so am very pleased with myself, and deserve a gold star for writing a poem too; a whole poem! It seems I'm back in writing mode - I can't settle in to reading. Ususally if I'm reading I'm not writing and vice-versa. So, maybe I can get on with things now. Don't know how it's all going to go with the new job and all that entails, but I feel very optimistic.

A BUSY LITTLE DAY

Well I got the lovely job; at least I hope it'll be lovely. I was out and about all day yesterday; all the things I had planned went off like a dream - timed to perfection.

I did my surfing at Amazon's new flat, had a bath and washed my hair there - because I'd given her my hairdrier and haven't found the other one yet. Then it was off to Morag's for lunch; she's kind of saying goodbye to her close friends and family because she goes in for a huge operation next Thursday and might not come out of it. She has Crohn's disease and had an operation that left her with a fistula (a hole in the wound that leaks into a bag) nearly two years ago. She could carry on living like that but she's had enough and wants to take the chance that they can successfully fix it. So I'm sending up prayers for her and if anyone wants to join in please do. It's an eight hour operation; a long time to be under the knife. My daughter was under for over five hours and that wait was a nightmare - especially after the surgeon had impressed upon us the fifty-fifty chance of death.

6pm found me and Musician buying tickets (buy one get one free with orange wednesday) to see TRANSFORMERS; it was a great movie - amazing how they make those intricate movements. Musician is always listening for interesting sounds; he'll get me to buy him DVDs so he can copy little snippets of sound, like explosions, and all kinds of whizz-bangs to use in his compositions.

Then it was straight back in a taxi for the third episode of HEROES on telly. It's so long since I saw the first two that I've forgotten a lot of it, but a little came back as I watched. I'll be working three twelve-hour shifts in the weeks to come and won't be able to follow all of it; working three days on and three off, but I haven't been able to follow serials for years - I'll buy it on DVD then I can have whole days to catch up.

PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE

The hallway, looking towards the living room where everything was piled on top of each other; a little mountain of our possessions.

This is my daughter's bedroom; her head would've been just there on the left. The picture that you are trying to identify, is a window, and a hole in the floor beneath it.

Our very own mountain. My photo enlarger is amongst this and mould is growing on everything.

What's left of the mattress on the three-week-old bed.

The white horse was one of the first presents I bought my grandson.

HOW DO WE ADVANCE?

I had an epiphany last year; I was watching someone interview Goldie Hawn and she was talking about her religion which is a mixture between jewish and budism - the programme had been talking about ghosts earlier (it was the heaven and earth show) asking people on the street whether they believed in them or not. Well, I was suddenly hit with this realisation: what if we are still evolving and some are more evolved than others! So that some of us can heal, see ghosts, get telepathic messages etc. It makes complete sense; when you count the years or eons that it took us to walk on two feet, to talk, to live past thirty, to grow taller, to create, to communicate, write etc; to make use of everything around us, to bake clay, weave baskets and finally to build machines that can fly through the air or send signals across the planet.

So maybe we are God; apparently we only use a small fraction of our brains. All this slagging-off mystics and healers is the same treatment people portraying the world as round got - maybe in a couple of hundred years healing and praying will be looked on as normal procedure....oh by the way, praying was the other thing; they were asking people if they believed in the power of prayer. I think that's when it happened; I think that's when it dawned on me that prayer and healing are the same thing - tapping into energy that comes through us when we ask for it. Again, it's only some of us who can tap into this; I think that that's pretty obvious when you realise that some prayers are not answered, apparently. When Amazon was having the operation on her brain to fix the aneurysm I was calling everyone I knew to pray for her, and she came through it fine. So did the prayers work for me because I am evolved more than others? This would include some of my friends; there would've been more than one advanced being! And would this mean that I could heal if I trained and practised?

I caught a programme tonight, just for ten minutes while the film broke for the news, one of those hypnotists, forget his name, but the thing was he got this man to think about a couple of numbers and to try to pass them on to a woman who had to write them down. I got the numbers immediately, so did she. It's been a strange day.

TAKING WHAT WE GET

My god, Carrie is broken-hearted indeed; she called me last night in a real state. I keep telling her that it's okay to grieve, because it is like a death. Now all the unanswered questions are surfacing - bitterness and anger taking over in short bursts. I stand outside this evidence of love and thank my stars that I am completely closed for this kind of business. It's just excruciating to watch, knowing that there's nothing you can do except stand by as support and wait, till she moves on, till she gets over him - till hell's fires blink out.

I am lounging in Amazon's new flat, using her phone line; I have arranged for BT engineers to come put in a line at Musician's but it'll be two weeks. Soon, the smoky air will assault my lungs as we clear out more of our ruined possessions, then it's off back to prepare Musician's flat for decoration; I'll probably be there a few months.

The interviews went well and I should hear by tomorrow if I've got the job the agency has put me forward for; if so, I'll begin on Monday. If not, they'll set me on to something else. It's all call centre, customer services stuff; I'm trying to avoid the sales work first; I'll take them if I can't get in anywhere else - I haven't really got experience in this field so will have to take what I get in the long run.

ABERDEEN IN A HEARBEAT

I brought the rain to Aberdeen, again. As my train arrived in the station spits of rain were dotting the pavements. I am the harbinger of the deluge – but not flooding, I hope.

Well, the Cointreau slipped down our throats with the greatest of ease; I poured the first one, and we sat slugging, because, as I said, ‘This is going down a treat, just like lemonade.’ And, that’s because it was lemonade; I forgot to stir it, so the Cointreau was sitting on the bottom of the glass…and when I got there, boy it was strong!

We got through over half the bottle, but had bought two; it was reduced to £14.99 in Morrison’s and I made Carrie put them in our basket. I told her that we might need more than one over the three nights, and we wouldn’t want to run out of the lovely stuff.

She is doing okay; it really is like a wake – we laughed our heads off at old tales and jokes, she cried a couple of tears but waved them away. The whole thing is very civilized; he’s here now packing up more of his stuff and we’ve been laughing and reminiscing for an hour – he is a lovely person, but dripping with baggage, which he has to go sort out. It’s a sad situation, but I know that Carrie will be alright.

We’re going to the cinema this afternoon to see John Travolta in a dress; Hairspray! Meeting up with Carrie’s daughter first, then we’ll have something to eat after the movie. The last time the three of us saw a movie together was when I treated us to Ghost in Newcastle; I surprised Carrie by producing a bottle of Bailey’s and two plastic cups – her daughter was only a teenager then. We left the cinema giggling like girls.

I went to bed last night with my toy-boy, Harry Potter. I bought it in WH Smith in the train station for £9.99 but had to spend another £15 to get it at that price, so I treated myself to Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion, and Carrie to a David Baldacci novel. I am enjoying HP even though I’ve forgotten a lot that happened in the last book, but it’s gradually becoming apparent. My sister-in-law, Sid, called me the other day to tell me that she’d been breaking her heart over it and had finished. 'Don’t tell me anything,’ I yelled. All the family have bought it from Asda for a fiver but I couldn’t be bothered going, and I’d have got a taxi home so would’ve paid about eight or nine quid for it in the long run…and I might have a new job next week anyway, so I’ll be alright for money – I hope.

BAD FOOD GOOD FOOD

I popped over to visit my sister-in-law Sid last week and to pick up holiday clothes for Amazon; Sid had just arrived back from a fortnight in Tenerife. So, I bought a nice packet of biscuits, chocolate caramel digestives, but she had loads of lovely stuff in her cupboard and I left mine in the bag - which was not good for me.

When I got back to Musician's I mixed a huge glass of chocolate Slimfast and settled down with it, in front of the telly, and washed down about eight of the lovely biscuits with the thick choclate-y shake. SOMEBODY SLAP ME!

All this week I've been in Amazon's new flat with no cooking facilities, just a kettle, so I haven't enjoyed the best diet. I had fish'n chips once; instant mash, corned beef with instant gravy; a range of general rubbish; and tonight returned home from my interview with a foot-long sub, full of salami, ham and sausage with jalopino peppers and chili sauce; and a bar of chocolate that another sister-in-law brought along with the new microwave - which is too late for me 'cause I'm off to Aberdeen tomorrow!

But, Carrie will feed me well; she is very healthy, though we are planning totilla chips and dips to go with all the alcohol.

Next week will be better.

SEARCHING THROUGH THE RUBBLE

The burnt-out flat is just horrendous; sewage pipes have melted and it's all been pushing up out of Amazon's toilet! So, beside the floors being squishy with water, there's also sewage soaked into the hall carpet; though the only smell is the smoke, but it is all disgusting. I spent an hour clearing one sofa on Friday afternoon; filled five huge, extra-strong, black bags with what can only be termed as rubbish now. MY BOOKS! I photographed a selection of burnt and soaked books for insurance; in one there's probably over £100 worth. I'll post some photos as soon as I can get them re-sized, maybe tomorrow after the interview.

I took a few CDs back with me and they've stunk out my bedroom in Musician's flat! I'll wipe them with strong-smelling lemon cleaner and hopefully the stink will fade.

I spoke to one old lady who lives above Amazon; what a crabbit old bitch! She moaned and complained about how the housing association has taken so long to do this and that, even though she had demanded that they complete the work and make her place the way it was before; I reminded her that my daughter had lost everything and she acted as if I was invisible and was just a wall for her words to bounce off! The burglars had stolen a few electrical goods from her but she still had her home - stupid old biddy. I was so mad I froze and refused to speak or look at her. I just waited for my taxi and leapt as it turned the corner. Some people are thick as yoghurt.

I was supposed to return today and clear out some more, but I just couldn't make myself do it - I'll go tomorrow morning then can have a lovely bath when I finish. I wanted to do a lot for Amazon because she has had the horror of the initial loss, but now she's had a riotus party holiday in Ibiza, she can do some of the work when she gets back.

I noticed that quite a lot of my stuff had been piled on Power Ranger's bed; I won't go through that till maybe next week - it's not in the way of the workmen at the moment, it can wait. I rescued quite a few packets of photos from the 'mire' of the living room, and know that there is more somewhere in there. I can't bear the thought of my beautiful scrapbooks in there; I don't know where they are!

BACK IN THE LAND OF THE ETHER

Well, the culprit was number two son; Musician had disabled the modem to make the laptop go faster while he was playing with the lovely thing. I had to trudge back to his flat this afternoon to get him to fix it; couldn't phone him because his phone is still in the pawn! I was not best pleased when I discovered what he'd done.

I've got an interview tomorrow afternoon for a job in a call centre; got to dress formally and not got a lot to choose from, so it'll have to be the navy crepe dress. I did think of popping into town to buy a new white shirt because I've got a couple of pairs of new black trousers but when I knew that the laptop was alright I couldn't wait to get back to Amazon's flat and play online. Right now the lovely navy dress is swinging on a carrier-bag-rope I've strung across the veranda...and we have SUNSHINE in Glasgow today; it's very hot, quite tropical actually, for here.

I'm going to Aberdeen on Wednesday for a few days, so will not be writing writing writing as planned; I've only got about 500 words done of the sex scene I'm writing for the novel. I wanted to post it for my online writing group. So, the new plan is to get a least a thousand words tonight and see what they think of it. I want it done before I go.

As for the rejections; I can only find one, which was a short story for a lit. mag. called Planet, but they said that they liked it but couldn't offer publication, that they had so much stuff. So, I'm happy enough. I don't know if there are others that Amazon has misplaced; it took me ages to find my mail - and she couldn't find it after a good search.

I have to go now and use up the old milk on my Slimfast shakes.

JUST A LITTLE CATCH-UP

My god, this is taking ages; I'm on Amazon's poor old smoke-damaged laptop and it is slower than a tortoise on valium - it's going to the shop tomorrow. My modem has kind of disappeared; suddenly it's invisible...so it might be going to the shop too! But first I'll get Musician to take a look at it; something else uninstalled itself last week and he fixed it, so this might be related; maybe I've been swiped by an electrical storm, or just a virus - soon find out. Hope it's the cheaper option...meaning Musician.

The plans I had to decorate for Amazon while I was here in her new flat have flown; I'll be popping up to Aberdeen to join in the wake for Carrie's relationship, which is ending. So we'll spend a couple of days in comfortable clothes with a few bottles of Cointreau and a lot of ice.

Will be back very soon under the steam of my own modem.

UNEMPLOYED, HOMELESS AND HAPPY

I'm in a cyber cafe in Glasgow. It's real Glasgow weather outside; dull dull dull, but not cold - this is our kind of summer, so we're used to it.

Well, I've been to the doctor's at last about my itchy ears, and I've got eczema inside my ears! Never heard of that one. He said my blood pressure was borderline so I'll have to have it tested again in a few months. I bought myself two tins of Slimfast to try and curb/help my diet; when I'm not working with my oldies I eat any old stuff at any old times - which is not good. So, we'll see how I get on.

I haven't seen the burnt-out flat yet, hope to do that today. As I left Musician's this morning I checked the camera and it's not working! I charged the battery last night, so can't think what's wrong with it. So I won't be able to take photos for the insurance. I'll have to buy another little camera. I'll get one for Amazon and she can take it on holiday. It doesn't have to be great, I'm sure I'll get one for about 20 quid; they're quite cheap nowadays, as long as you keep it simple.

Her new flat is lovely; she's got trees outside her window! It's in a nice little square, and I love the veranda. I'll be spending a week there while she's on holiday, so am looking forward to that - all that time to write. But I'll probably do some decorating for her too. Might paint her son's bedroom - I now name him, POWER RANGER. He loves the new place and can't wait till his room is done.

Musician served me breakfast in bed yesterday; scrambled egg and sausage, and it was beautiful - actually it was my second breakfast because I was up earlier and had cheerios. So all is well at the moment. I'll buy a yellow AD paper today and look for a job.

SAYING GOODBYE TO TORQUAY

This is Torquay, pretty at a distance.

Torquay Harbour, winter sunset.

My 'Pink Rock Bum' I found this on Babbacombe Beach a couple of years ago. Don't ya just luv it?

I took my last walk downtown today, didn't have long so I stayed in town, mostly in Waterstones with a latte; see, I live at the seaside, and what do I do? Spend my time off, even in July, sitting in a bookshop! I don't deserve lovely locations - I should live in a block of flats in a manky city, which is just where I will be for the next few months, living with Musician. I can't even talk to him on the phone 'cause he's pawned it! He's probably spent all his cash on getting whatever he's pawned of mine out before I get back!

I'm all packed, and poor old Clara Bow has been weeping half the day. But she was better than I expected, and though she is upset, she understands why I have to go. She really is a sweetie.

TO DRINK OR NOT TO DRINK

This is a copy of the email I sent to Herman after a night on the lovely red stuff, last time I was in Glasgow. I'm just reminding myself not to do it again.

had a great night last week. i was pretty pissed; not sure if i remember
actually leaving! but i woke up in my own bed, with most things intact...except
for most of the wine i put away the night before!!! i was sick in a kind of
projectile-way over the side of the bed!! when i woke up i was totally
disgusted. don't think i should drink that much anymore, now that i hardly drink
at all. i thought i'd lost my white shirt, but i'd hung it up in the wardrobe!
God, what a state.

how were you? i'm piling through that airline 
novel; it's pretty much an info-dump but interesting. i remembered all that we
discussed on the writing front on formats, and have written it down. weather
here lovely. must remember to water the plants on the verranda.

Over the last five years I've spent so much time working away or driving, that I never get to have a drink; and I often forget, don't even think of having one; and now I can't drink properly - maybe I'll have to go into training.

Well, I'll have to find something else to drink; no more red wine for me; maybe I'll change to white.

CONVERSATION

I was speaking to TocToc last night; Clara Bow insisted on watching that 'One Show' so I spent the half hour in the kitchen on the phone. I just happened to mention the weather and he was off on one; everything you need to know about the melting polar ice caps, warm air, cold air and..... This son of mine should've been some kind of scientist - he reminds me of an old guy from the tv... a Magnuson, but not Magnus, I don't think - not the one who did Mastermind. TocToc spends all his time with his children so that his brain explodes when he catches the attention of another adult. Bingo just tells him to shut up; no wonder he is starved of good conversation, but you daren't open your mouth in case he starts, and you can't get him to stop. I remember, barely, when I was that passionate about the world; I was about his age, thirty, and would quite literally fly, when someone pressed my buttons. I wasn't a dancer at parties: I was a talker - always in the kitchen or wherever the debate was going on. Now I'm so laid-back I'm almost horizontal.

REJECTION

Some of the things waiting for me at home are rejections; I don't know how many and what they are - so I'm looking forward to finding that out! But rejection doesn't faze me; been there done that - it's all part and parcel of a creative life and if you can't deal with it you're in for a rough time. An old friend of mine from Northumberland used to growl at the postman...

'Oh I know what you've got in there mister,' she'd mutter, while watching him stroll around the cul de sac; and there were several post boxes she refused to use because she always got rejections from them!

I just need to catch up with my mail and get the work back out there again.

I'm counting the days now; three to go, then I'll be out of here in a taxi by eleven on Tuesday morning to catch my train to Bristol. I've got an afternoon flight this time; I can't usually catch this but I think they must've changed it. So, I'll be in Glasgow by about 5pm. Really looking forward to this move; it's cost me a fortune to post my stuff - three parcels so far is approx. £35 and that's not counting the twenty quid I paid to send Amazon's goodies special delivery! I could have bought a car down here and drove it all up; but that would've taken all day and a lot of the night...and in this heat, with the traffic. Glad I've done it this way.

Clara Bow asked me how long I would be in Glasgow and I almost freaked; I don't want to actually lie to her but I don't want to tell her yet - she'd drive me insane. When my back to back said she was taking seven weeks off in the summer, Clara begged me to cover it; she said she didn't want a stranger. When I balked at seven and said I could do five, she wept. I told her I'd think about it, and after a couple of hours I said I'd do it. I've done seven weeks before, but that was with lovely Joan and Pete. I fobbed Clara off by telling her I was staying with Musician for a while then popping over to Loch Lomond to spend time with TocToc and the kids, then I changed the subject. It's been a long shift.

I had to tell her that I was leaving for good; couldn't justify lying. She was actually fine about it, and understood that my daughter needed me after the fire - and she knew that I was anxious to find out what was lost of my stuff that had been stored in Amazon's flat. Poor old Clara Bow; she weeps a little every now and then about who she's going to get now and will they leave her alone - because I've spent my time off (when there's no visitors) sitting at the dining table with the laptop so she won't be alone: there's not many carers will do that! I do feel sorry that I'm leaving her to begin again with strangers but am also quietly excited about a new life unfolding - I've been running around the world for four years, and it's time to go home. I've given her seven months of good care; it's not been as wonderful as the time I spent with Joan and Pete - they spoiled me for other jobs. I know that I'm not going to continue doing care-work; time to move on.

THE BACHELOR

His gum-coated tongue laps up flies
in a slow rolling motion. He goose-steps
with long black legs through trampled night sand
flicking up a fine dust.

She nestles into tall gutterings, curls
up to high-flown paper and leaves, and sleeps till
the sun sinks. Rain runs off her brown back,
only snow disturbs her.

At first light, sated, he walks the shoreline
ducking his head, sucking up water – a rasping
whistle through his teeth – the spray loosens rough
gum from his tongue.

They live separate lives. She attracts him
with a low murmering, excitement pitches
vibrations as far as half a mile, in waves
five minutes apart.

He picks up the signal, flies back and forth
across the river in a bid to escape but comes
closer to her position on every return journey
until he lands at her feet.

Mating over, he dances in rage – now leaving
now charging, though he is weak already.
He leaves her to bury the eggs, and screams
at the opposite bank.

She fucks him twice a year. The eggs hatch out
when the ground is soft, April, October….frost
would suffocate the young, they must fight
their way out with still-soft claws.

The moment their eyes open, necks stretch and
feet hook into a rival’s head, red is the first
colour they know. She clambers over his strong thighs
eyes on the road ahead.

Published in STAND Magazine 1993

NEW WALLS

I will always consider this, My Beach...

All this moving in and out of flats – where do I really belong? Sometimes I think I’ll never be able to answer that. When I left Glasgow I let Musician live in my flat till he got his own place, but then I had to officially give it up and make serious decisions about my stuff; I had the great idea of using Amazon’s flat – she decided not to leave her relationship, to keep trying. So that’s how I ended up there, in a spare flat, on my visits, and how all my precious bits were squashed into that huge cupboard while I swanned around Spain and worked in Devon.

It was a lovely space, in and around local shops, near the subway. When she and Whatsiname actually made the split, he moved in and we shared for more than six months; I wasn’t there much, thank God – he was a serious pain in the arse. But he eventually turned and demanded his flat back, kicking Amazon and PowerRanger out to live in what was really her flat; when I visited Amazon gave up her bed for me. It wasn’t ideal so I spent odd weeks with Carrie in Aberdeen and Bree in Newcastle. 

My beach at sunset helped me to dream of new walls, and I will miss it.

PARTS OF ME EVERYWHERE

This is the riotus but fabulous blanket I crocheted for Amazon's new flat; so she can snuggle down on her enormous sofa and watch Big Brother on the borrowed TV.

It's very important to me that my family have creations of mine in their cupboards; blankets for snoozes on sofas; bowls for soup; mugs for cocoa; beautiful photographs of their children...etc. I think I want to be imortal.

PREPARING TO LEAVE

The woman I'm looking after at the moment, let's call her Clara Bow, is 92 yrs old and mostly pleasant. She still puts on her powder and lipstick every morning, even though she's had a stroke and only has one good hand. My god, I can't be bothered and I'm only 53! Right now, she's watching Neighbours and I'm sitting at the dining table behind her. The worst thing about living with Clara is watching TV; she has sky but I'm sure she has shares in the BBC - she will not watch any channel that has adverts, except the sport channels. We are complete opposites but she loves me because I am a fantastic carer. The carer I work back2back with used to run a nursing home and is a bit headmistress-y, apparently. I am not looking forward to telling Clara that I'm leaving for good, and thought I'd wait till Monday, but it might happen earlier because I don't want to actually lie to her; if she asks me when I'm back or how long I'll be away I'll have to tell her if I can't divert her attention. And then I'll have to live with the result for longer than I planned.

Her memory is really taking a trip these days; she constantly asks me the same question or reminds me to do something that is part of regular routine. She will panic and worry about who she's going to have instead of me, and will focus on the bad carers she had in the past. I know that she won't for one minute think of me and my family; it will be all ME ME ME. Her son and daughter-in-law nearly flipped when i told them - this means a hard time for them because she'll be on the phone complaining or the carers will be complaining to the office. This job has suited me because I could do lots of writing and stuff, but most other carers want to go out on their time off.

But I'm not going to worry about all that; I'm going to concentrate on finishing the patchwork blankets and post them home before I leave. My god, the junk I've collected while I've been here has cost me a fortune to post. I always planned to get another car and drive back, but I'm flying because it's quicker and cheaper - though not if you add the postage!

WORK REVIEW

What I’ve done in the last six months:

Resumed writing THE NOVEL
Joined an online writing group
Began actually writing every day!!!
Also dragged out all kinds of old pieces of writing and cannibalised them
Re-wrote old poetry, even published stuff
Almost finished several short stories that were years old
Wrote a lot of flash fiction
Won a small, group competition
Sent 11 poems to comps
And some to magazines
One poem accepted and published online Poetry Scotland
Sent out my first short story to Woman’s Weekly
The bullies in my writing group made me start a new novel
Two more short stories, to literary mags
Now got about 50,000 wds in old novel
And 20,000 wds in new novel

Next 6 months:

Finish one novel and start sending it out
Finish first draft of second novel and have a drink
Collect the lovely money from comps I’ve won
Completely clear out all old work by mashing it all together
Write lots of new stories
Write some new poems

SAYING GOODBYE TO JOAN & PETE

I've just written the account of Joy/Joan's death; had myself in tears remembering it all - can't believe that it'll be a year ago in a matter of weeks! I'm glad I got to share that time with the family, with the members of it I knew best. What a send-off they gave me when I came down for the funeral. I drove down because I had tons of stuff to collect; I'd been there for 18 months, working back to back with Fi for most of it, 3 weeks on and 3 weeks off. They helped me pack up the car, after trying to ply me with whisky, and the whole pile of them waved me off; about fifteen of them, they blew kisses and waved till I turned the corner of the lane.

The funeral was beautiful; the same vicar did the service, but the family had managed to make it very different from Pete's. It was videoed for those in Australia who hadn't been able to make both funerals. The oldest son, from Oz, stood and spoke about his mother and had us all tripping over with tears, himself too. But lots of laughter, and I know Joan would've loved it all. They were a very special couple, and I will never forget them.

AMAZON IS HOMELESS

I was talking to Amazon on the phone this morning and noticed a little twang in her speech; she's got a boyfriend who comes from Motherwell or Hamilton; somewhere outside Glasgow anyway - well, and there she was, tacking 'ay' on the end of her sentence. I didn't say anything but it made me smile. She's had a bad year; her ex-partner (who shall not be given a name) stole her son away from her at Easter and now she has to go through the court system to get him back, completely. He got a temporary order by telling huge lies; I am amazed it was that easy for a man to take a child away from its mother. So, it's still going on and they have my grandson between them half the week each. In my opinion, he is just doing this to control her.

Almost two weeks ago the shop beneath Amazon went on fire. She only escaped with her life because a young man on his way home saw it and raised the alarm; he ran up the stairs knocking all the doors. He knew Amazon and called her name through the letter box. When she woke the flat was filled with smoke (broken smoke alarm!) and all she got out was her phone and her life; in the clothes she stood up in. Her flat got the worst of it; fire, smoke and water damage. All my stuff is stored in her big cupboard! I'm hoping that because they were mostly packed in tightly that they'll be okay. Mostly worried about albums and photos. Thank the stars that her son was with his father that night.

I had a great time the other day, shopping in Primark for Amazon; looking for basics-with-a-sale-tag. I got: a set of towels for £7; slipper socks at £1; jazzy belts £1; fitted pinstripe jacket £6; thick, ribbed, stripped jumpers with big polo-neck £1; pretty bra £1; flip-flops £3; T-shirts, tops and what-have-you.

Everyone has rallied round; aunties turning up with toasters and kettles, and bags of cupboard food, for the new flat. One of her friends had found a sofa for her and organised the removal so that Amazon only had to pay the driver diesel money; it all happened so fast that she was a bit overwhelmed but paid out £30, but then they discovered that the sofa wouldn't fit into the flat! So I get the manic phone call; she's still in shock, to some extent (I just can't wait till I finish this job and get up there). She was hanging about in this empty flat with nowhere to sit or sleep and the sofa she'd just forked out the last of her money on was standing up in the outside landing. In the end up, someone from the housing association turned up to sort the hot water and said he'd see if he could get some help with the sofa. He returned with his boss and they took the door and frames off to get it inside then put it all back together again! And now everything is rosy; she's got somewhere to sit and sleep; the bed comes next week.

This daughter of mine is a true Amazon; in the last five and a half years she's gone through so much, the main thing being a brain haemorhage when she was nineteen! I hope this is the last.

JOY BECOMES JOAN

August Bank holiday weekend 2006

It’s very early in the morning, about 5.30. I’m sitting with Joy. We’ve come to the end almost, but she is strong-hearted; she’s hanging on like a real trouper. She hasn’t had any real food for 2 weeks now, since the stroke, and only a few sucks of water through a sponge on a stick in the last few days. She has been sleeping through most of the day but is pretty restless all night. Her daughter and I are spending the nights with her; we feel that she shouldn’t be left alone at this stage, and she really does need some reassurance during the night. It’s hard, watching her struggle…a bit like Lilly, my mother-in-law, and that was hard. So I’m sitting now, in the darkened room, just a tiny lamp going, with my coffee. The house is full of family.

The day I returned to work Joy had had a stroke; she’d slept all that day as I took over from Fi, but woke and spoke a couple of times, so we thought it was just minor and that she would recover. She did, to some extent, but gradually began to fade. The doctor was there every day – he was such a star; he lived nearby and used to pop in on his way home or back to the hospital. Those first few days I had Joy up and sitting in her chair, but it was a real effort; she’s little but dense in weight. It became apparent that the stroke was debilitating and more serious that we had thought, so she stayed in bed – Joy loved her bed and that was no hardship for her. The daughter of the house arrived and we shared the nursing. In the first week we tried to feed Joy up as much as we could, with fortified drinks and beef soup. But by the end of that week she was barely taking a few sips; the doctor told us just to give her little drinks of water and to clean her mouth with the sponge-on-a-stick.

‘Thank you darling,’ whispers from Joy; she was clinging on to life. Everyone had to return to work so there was only me, her daughter and Middle Son left. She slept most of the day but was awake quite a lot of the night, waving her hands in the air, trying to catch something but we couldn’t find out what. The doctor said that it was the effect of dehydration on her system; her body was shutting down. At night Daughter and I took turns to stay with Joy: during the day we cleaned out cupboards. When everyone was there at bank holiday weekend, we had such fun looking at photographic discoveries – they, trying to work out who was who. There were a lot of tears too; this was a very loving and caring family, much the best I’ve ever worked with.

On the first day of September Joy’s breathing began to alter its rhythm; she’d been lightly sedated the night before, and was breathing heavily. The three of us were working all over the house, looking in on her all the time. I called when I heard the change – I’d been through this before and knew what would happen. We sat on the bed, around her as everything slowed down. I remembered watching Lily taking fewer breaths and all of us counting, waiting for the next, and the one that would never come. Joy stopped breathing several times and we thought she had gone, then she’d heave another and we’d laugh.

‘You go girl,’ I said to her. Daughter could only nod; she felt disgusted with herself that she couldn’t speak, and Son was ever stoical and correct while we blew our noses with the tissues I'd snatched from the window sill. Then there were no more last breaths. She was gone and we were glad she’d made it.

ARE WE THERE YET?

The hiss and hum of the airbed
fills the room. Joan shifts around -
dying is a knackering business.

Breathing is difficult; just when you think it’s over
another phase moves in, for an hour
or two, then life returns.

I want to scream
‘Go Joan go…get the hell outta here…
fly on the last gasp of summer.’

Hours roll into days, and they pass.
The family gathers memories, giggling
at naked babies and ancient greats in old sepia.

We ply doctor and nurses with questions
they can’t answer; we want timetables -
definite possibilities.

‘Why am I still here?’ she whispers
as starvation settles into the bed.
Her heart carries on, regardless.

Check-in is now closed.
We count the spaces between breaths.
Time of departure N/A

COMING BACK TO BLOGGER

I've been using Windows SPACES for the past few months; I made the move over there because they had great backgrounds and a slide show. I did enjoy some of my time over there but then they changed everything and blanked out my lovely dragon background; taking away my main reason for being there! the slide show is good, but I don't think it makes that much difference. My main reason for leaving there is, the quality of the neighbouring blogs is PANTS! Here, at Blogger, I can just pop over to the next blog and most probably find something I can read. I think they're all young bangers at Spaces -  you can tell by the titles of their blogs!

What happened in the lost six months? Joy died on the 1st of September. I will post the story soon. I spent the following 9 weeks in Glasgow, waiting for new work to appear; living on my meagre savings then using up credit cards. I didn't think it would take so long to get more work. I think quite a few clients died last year so there was no work available. Eventually I was offered this client in Torquay; I'd been here before and quite enjoyed it, even though she was considered difficult. It has taken a long time to get back in the black, and I haven't been over to see Lulu in Spain for almost a year! She's had a hard time too - the shower business might be going down the pan.

A real case of Lazyitus set in and I haven't done much of anything in the blogging world for a few months. But, I have been writing, like a maniac. Maybe I'm on the path to my next career; I want something more relaxing and interesting for my old age; I need to stop running around the country. What I have learned over the past few years is that: wherever in the world I am, I will still do the same things - like, lying around watching DVDs. A whole series in a week; Buffy - one season every day. I was knackered by the end of it and my eyes were flickering; I had to watch the last episode with my hand over my eye because it wouldn't stop blinking! It never occurred to me to stop and leave it for the next day! So, it really doesn't matter where I am, which means I may as well be within reach of my family and friends. This year will be all change.

FEBRUARY 2007 Living with Musician

I woke up last Saturday morning with the sound of my left ear popping; ping-pong, ping-pong; open and closed; on and off. When I looked in the mirror the deformity was invisible. I diagnosed an ear infection; both ears had been rather itchy for a few months now, but I hadn’t got around to making a doctor’s appointment - I never do. I’ve had all kinds of mystery ailments over the years that I’ve suffered through, and they went away eventually. Once I had something wrong with my feet, which I diagnosed as fallen or falling, arches; the pain was incredible and I could hardly walk for a week, but it did go away. It’s pretty weird when one side of your head acts like it’s an appendage; it’s there but is not normal. Not a lot of pain, yet; I keep waiting for a piercing, surprise attack when I’m on the bus or something.

My sister-in-law has a course of anti-biotic with only one out; she doesn’t need it now, I forget why…I began taking them Saturday afternoon. It’s now Tuesday and they haven’t done a thing for me. I’m thinking that my diagnosis was wrong. I’m in the middle of cleaning No.2 son’s flat; I discovered last year that I’m, probably, allergic to dust. At first I thought I had become allergic to Glasgow because every time I visited I ended up scratching my eyes, sneezing and blowing my nose every half hour. Musician was living in my old flat at the time, which he never cleaned. Now, knowing this, and with the sneezing, eye-scratching, nose-blowing and added coughing and wheezing; I’m thinking that this is a serious case of allergy because this is a serious case of dust - his dust, which hasn’t been cleaned in over a year! So another diagnosis is yet to be proved; I will buy anti-histamine today and see what happens.

It’s raining; looking out of the filthy bedroom window I can just about see the pale ghost of the science centre and the tower looming up out of the misty rain. I’ve cleaned the other windows, just haven’t got to this one yet. I was planning to paint his wooden living room units black today but not a good day for drying gloss paint. I don’t know how I’m going to get my anti-histamine because I’m not going out in that rain and if I send him he’ll come back with the wrong stuff; need to wait till it stops, haven’t got any cash to give him anyway. I’ve spent a fortune on him since Friday, to get this place furnished and cleaned; there was no soap, toothpaste, washing-up liquid, soap powder, bleach, cleaning fluid, disinfectant - no brush, mop, dustpan or clothes drier. The smell is gradually leaving, or maybe I’m just getting used to it. No, it is much better; I’ve still got to wash down walls and doors and skirting boards but I’m not painting and decorating;  he can do that himself, later, if he feels like it, which he won’t. He’ll be 27 this year; I’m looking at this as his inheritance. It’s another chance for him to change, to begin from scratch, to learn that he likes some kind of clean and wants to try and keep it. We’ll see.

BUTTERFLY

BUTTERFLY 6th July ‘06

After lunch today Joy and I sat outside on the swinging sofa, I love sitting there, in any kind of weather; it's under the porch, and so vertical rain doesn't get you. The rain had stopped and the grass was dry. Suddenly, we were dive-bombed by a butterfly. I've been trying to get a photograph of one all year but they never stop in this garden; they fly through as if their very lives depended on it, so this one took us completely by surprise. It landed on the wheelchair and let me take loads of photos...even turned around in a complete circle for me. Then it flew on to the window frame and showed me its full wingspan from the back. After that it flew round and around me, landing on my skirt, then finally settled on Joy's hand. It stayed there for ages and allowed me to keep snapping away...it moved up to her arm and I continued. All the time the camera was only a couple of inches away; it wasn't bothered at all by the noise of the machine. I couldn't believe this beautiful creature. Why was it so tame? I wondered if it had escaped from a butterfly farm or something.

THINGS PEOPLE SAY 7th July ‘06

A friend of the family sent Joy a book with a great title, 'ALL IN THE END IS HARVEST', an anthology of writings and verse for those who grieve. There are some little gems in here...my favourite is: 'Look to this day!

...for yesterday is already a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision, but today, well-lived, makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow, a vision of hope...'
From the Sanskrit (author & translator unknown)

Thinking about the butterfly; some people will believe that it was the reincarnation of Peter - now he has joined the real people, the dead, he can have his real name - Gent will now be known as Pete.

FUNERAL

I moved to another blog for a while but didn't like it; trying to fit in some things from a later date.

WAITING

I imagine there's a queue...
perhaps a light flashes
when it's your turn...and
it must be worth it -
why else would we wait
with broken and worn bodies?
We do have time to stand and stare.

This man Pete waited and waited.
When he moved he creaked, like
an old grandfather wardrobe,
joints well past their sell-by date.
He'll be glad to march
into the next world, kneel
in that great garden, prune
a multitude of fruit bushes.

The people he leaves behind
will arrive on his new doorstep
one day, and he will down tools, laughing
'I've been waiting for you!' 

A FUNERAL

The funeral was the other day, Thursday, and it all passed without a hitch. Two days earlier, when we were cutting flowers for the florist, Joy had a little weep for the first time. She asked me when Gent was coming and I had to tell her that he had gone, that he was up there in heaven waiting for her. That was the first time it had really sunk in. So we both had a little cry and I wheeled her out to the garden so the others could share in the moment (the others being, the Australian contingent of the family).

She hasn't done anything like it since. She answered questions as if she knew what was going on, and that Gent was really dead and that this was his funeral, but there was no emotion. The funeral service was wonderful. It was done by the local vicar who had seen to Gent while he was in hospital, so he knew him pretty well; and a while ago, the church had got Gent to do a potted biography; everyone was riveted - what an interesting and worthwhile life he led. This was the first church service that I've ever enjoyed; there were a lot of deep silences, where you could spread out your mind, just meditate and relax into the wonderful atmosphere. He did this at the crematorium and the thanksgiving services. All the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren stood up to say something; there were lots of tears but all of them conquered their emotions to make us all smile and laugh at the funny stories and glimpses into the family life. I don't know how well Joy could hear; she has a huge problem with background noise, and seems very deaf, when she isn't normally.

When we left the church at Ottery St Mary, and stood outside, the bells tolled especially for Gent. The sun was beating down and people were patting shoulders and hugging, comforting each other, relieved that it was all over. Joy sat in her wheelchair, smiling and gracious with anyone who was brave enough to come over and re-introduce themselves. I think there was about 150 people there - he was well-loved, and a pretty important man in the area. He had an OBE and a CBE and the title of Brigadier, and he had done so much in his life for a great many people. He will be sadly missed. Joy is aware that there is something missing in her life, but not quite sure just what it is.

Well, now it's just me and Joy. The last of the family went home today and Joy immediately reverted to her usual bedtime, which is as soon as possible - half past six tonight, but she has had a wild time this past week. Some days I couldn't get her to have an afternoon nap, 'No, I don't want to leave all this,' she would say, 'I'm not leaving the party.' We'd finally persuade her a little while later. She is so stimulated when they are all around, but when it gets too noisy she wants to leave. This time last year she couldn't bear to have people in the room; she'd get up and storm off and I'd have to go after her; she'd be in bed with all her clothes on, even shoes. One of her granddaughters got very upset. Joy kept saying to me, 'Who are all these people, why don't they go?' But now she loves it all!

THE RAINY SEASON

I took Joy out in the garden today, to catch a breath of the lovely sunshine before the rain reappeared. It was a wonderful day; we were deluged with rain all day yesterday. Everything was thickly coloured, deep greens and reds, with a splash of yellow and the lilac nodding in the background. I'm going to practise creating a floral tribute for the thanksgiving service in the church; I want something from Gent's garden - he loved it. The weather is so changeable right now and we couldn't depend on getting the main arrangement from here, but there's no reason why we can't have a little something. I've never done flower arranging, but I'm sure I'll be able to create an attractive display.

When we were out there, Joy asked me when Gent was coming home; she wanted him to see his garden. I choked and put my hands on her shoulders, 'Oh sweetie, he's gone,' I told her. I couldn't get the lump out of my throat to say anymore. She does this every day and has to be told again and again, but even then....I don't think she actually believes us. It's not that it isn't sinking in; I think it's a case of her thinking that we're wrong and that he'll be alright, and will rally like he always does.

She's a lot better than she was last month; I think that all that hospital visiting every day had worn her out. I really thought that she was at Death's door, but now, she's not nearly so breathless when walking. I don't know how she'll cope with the funeral - which isn't till 8th June. Just the thought of all those people giving her sympathy and all that stuff; she won't understand. She doesn't even recognise the cards...thinks they're for a birthday or something.

ENTERTAINING

ANTS.....busy...busy...busy

We watched this little group, on our way down to the beach; they were working at the side of the wooden pathway through the dunes. There were three or four of them trying to move this big piece of wood, which would seem like a tree to them!

THE CATERPILLAR

There were loads of these in the scrub grass on the sand dunes. I love the tracks he made across the sand.

A WASHED-UP FISH

If I'd seen this fish die I might have taken it home to cook! It was just lying at the water's edge... the waves were trying to pull it back. The feet belong to Bouncer and Shouts At The Sea.

BANANNA SPLIT

I couldn't finish it! None of us finished what we ordered; the portions were huge. I just wanted the kids to be overwhelmed by ice-cream!

LULU AND HER SHOWERS....

And boy did we need one after a whole day in the heat of spain beneath a marquee with only open flaps as air-conditioning!

MY SPANISH FEET

I took my jewelled Spanish shoes over to Devon to amuse Joy. I sit in Gent's chair and raise the foot rest; she always comments on my feet. She loves these shoes and my blue-painted toenails.

COFFEE AND SHOWERS

Am in this pretty expensive net cafe; 1 euro for 15 mins, and it just clicks off when the time is up though it does give you a minute´s warning! We´ve been helping Lulu with the exhibition. Very busy, and loads of interest in the wonderful showers. I want one. I´m going to have one in my flat in Glasgow as soon as I can arrange it; as soon as I can afford it because I´ve spent it up this last 3 weeks - am scared to look in the bank to see just how much money I don´t have anymore! These showers have steam and whirlpool baths in some of them, and foot massage and music and you can answer your phone hands-free! They have all kinds of jets and rain shower and temperature control. I REALLY WANT ONE.

It´s been pretty hot here, and spending all day in a huge marquet tent is no picnic...and they don´t have coffee anywhere near! We took a kettle with us today and got one cup. When I went to make more later the electric wouldn´t let us; it goes on and off all day. And, apparently it can´t take the power of an electric kettle.

Well, gotta go...time´s up.

THE PASSING OF A GENT

Gent died a couple of days ago...just gently floated off in his sleep. He was in hospital; never got home at all. In the end he was too poorly to be moved. I´m back there on Monday night. Fi is better than I´d have expected, but we both had a little cry over the phone the other night. I find it really hard to talk on the phone at these times. I can talk face to face, usually with the odd choke and sniffle, but the phone just takes my voice away and I can only nod. The funeral will be next week so I´ll have to be there. Another one to add to my already long list.

RE-NAMING GRANDSONS

I spent all day yesterday watching movies on the DVD. There really is more than a bit of the hermit in me. Lulu was out with a nice man, so I had the house to myself all day and night.

At the end of the visit I came up with a new name for those two grandsons: No1 will now be known as BOUNCER because he upsets my equalibrium with all that movement. The other day he actually made me feel sick, and dizzy. No2 is now SHOUTS AT THE SEA; we had an hysterical evening last week as we walked along the shoreline...Bouncer raced way ahead of us but Shouts At The Sea was standing like a boxer, facing the water and roaring at it. I don´t know what he was shouting but it was fantastic. He shook his fists; a little 8 year old in a navy T-shirt and pants, facing the wild waves, and speaking his mind. We asked him what he was shouting but I´ve forgotten now.

It´s scorching today, people in the sea as we passed at 10am. We went to Santa Pola to buy nice bathroom goodies to dress the set for the exhibition at the weekend. Lulu´s got 3 shower units coming over tomorrow, so I think she´ll do well; nothing like real examples to encourage buyers. I thought smells would work on the senses so we got nice dishes to hold perfumed soaps and bath bombs, with pebbles and all sorts. Looking for bright blue towels now.

It´s Chris´birthday and we´re taking her out for a meal tonight as a surprise, to a great little restaurant up in Gran Alicant called La Palma; it does a wonderful Sunday lunch. The decor is modern, spacious and minimalist; very pleasant family-run place, and resonable prices. So, looking forward to good food, but it´s breaking into my hermit-time.

Lush is doing well; complaining about all sorts, but fine really. She might be out tomorrow, then it´ll be all hands on deck to look after her and keep her company. I know that I´m Lush-sitting on Saturday night, because Bitsy has to go back to see to her very sick dog and Bunny is working at the Santa Pola Palace. I promised I´d make her a curry and Chris is planning a cottage pie one day.

Poor old Bitsy; her dog is 15 and in very bad health. The vet thinks he might have a tumour in his leg and is doing a biopsy today. She and I went to Elche to see Lush yesterday and on the way back we saw a little cart pulled by a donkey, on the main dual-carriagway, but the driver was talking on a mobile phone! It just looked so strange; the old and the new world. I didn´t have the camera, and I was driving anyway. Something else happened that I said I was going to put in the blog but I can´t remember what it was now...must ask Bitsy.

Lulu and Chris are going to share a new house from next month, but I´ll keep ours on for June because Carrie is coming, and we´ll have more room, and there isn´t much time now to give the landlord proper notice - I don´t want to jeopardise my 2 months deposit! Now that it´s coming nearer I´m wishing in some ways to stay here, but I know that it´s time to move on. I´m just laying about here watching movies and reading. I really need to make myself work. I´ve been writing in my head this week and the novel has taken another battering; I´ve changed the format again! Will I ever get this bloody thing finished? Well, I might if I actually did any work on it.

Gotta go write now.

REPORTING FROM ALICANTE

I´m in the internet cafe in Alicante with Bingo and the boyz. A lovely hot day. Took them to the castle today, really just for a photoshoot. They loved it. What a fantastic view; 360º all around the city and the bay. Beautiful blue sea today, and clear enough for a good picture. Bingo was as nervous as Carrie when I took them up top; there´s just a low wall around and a drop of hundreds of feet. If that was Britain it would be railed and fenced off like a prison and you wouldn´t get such a clear view. It is stunning. I took them to see the huge, ancient yew trees (well I think they´re yew trees) with all the bits growing down as well as up and out. They look like old grumbly men wearing a multitude of robes draped across their arms.

The kids have had a wonderful time. They´ve done something different every day and watched a new DVD every night before bed, and they´ve been very well-behaved, for them. We´ve eaten out at least once every day and sat around the table every night on our terrace. Sometimes I just like to put pots of food on the table with spoons in so they can all just get stuck in. Got a great photo the other night of curry faces. Will post some photos when I get the chance to take the laptop up to the other internet cafe. Going to be busy helping Lulu with this exhibition she´s taken a stand with for next weekend. Busy helping her work out a logo and business postcards to give away.

My sister-in-law, Sid had her baby yesterday; another boy! I wanted her to have a girl. Never mind - one more man in the world. Lush had her operation on Tuesday and is doing well. I haven´t seen her, Lulu and Bitsy are going today. Bunny has been great; she´s done all the running about for paperwork and legal stuff, and she sat with Lush the whole day after the op, till late. I hope this heals their friendship; they were at loggerheads and barely speaking before this happened.

I called Fi last week and she said the hoist was there and that Gent was coming out on Monday. I´m sure she´d have called me if anything untoward happened.

Got to go catch the bus now, back to lovely Arenales. Bingo is desperate to finish her book. I finished mine last night; a great read. It was written by John Twelve Hawks, I think, might just have to check that...and is the first part of a trilogy, so I´ll be looking out for the next one soon.

THE ONGOING SAGA OF THE PASSPORTS

Poor old Bingo waited and waited for her passport but nothing happend. She called the Scottish office on Saturday and they said that the courier delivered up until 6pm. When it hadn´t arrived by 5pm she called them again and they put her through to the courier. He told her that he had her passport and would be with her before 8pm and to keep her phone on. They called her an hour later to tell her that they´d broken down! The van was on the back of a truck. But they assured her that they´d get it to her the next morning by 10am. She reminded them that she was travelling around noon!

Twenty minutes to ten, they arrive in a taxi. All is well, Bingo informs me. An hour later she calls me to ask what name I put on the ticket for No1 grandson. Wrong name! Í thought you were changing his name,´ I said. ´Couldn´t find a justice of the peace,´ she said. This is 3 hours before the flight! So I had to call the airline; it was too late to just change the name on the ticket so we had to cancel his flight and make a new booking. I only got 10% back on the old flight, but the new flight was actually cheaper than the original so I only had to pay out 28 quid. It could´ve been a lot worse. Again, this bloody trip is costing me a fortune!

No1 grandson is Bingo´s son, and has a different name from the others. But Toctoc has been his father since he was a tiny baby.

Well, they´re here and having the time of their lives. They loved the flight, and a woman gave them 10 euros between them because they were so good. She must´ve been on some of the flights I´ve experienced where loads of kids scream and cry thoughout the whole flight!

Me and Bingo got sunburnt on the beach yesterday; it was a bit cloudy and I was late putting cream on and I didn´t know if Bingo had creamed up or not; she had fallen asleep and got the back of her legs and shoulders burnt. The kids were fine because we creamed them up carefully before we left the house.

The kids played with the little surfboards, wearing their goggles and air tubes, and all the paraphenalia. They loved the water. I took them for gigantic ice creams later and took photos. Just uploaded them to the computer - Í took 75 photos yesterday alone! Got lots of action stuff on the swings and seesaw. I hate posing photos; I like to get interesting shots. Sorry I can´t post any; Toctoc doesn´t want his kids appearing on the net.

We were knackered last night and were off to bed before 11pm, and I think the kids were asleep almost immediately. I´m reading a book called THE TRAVELLER forget who wrote it, but am enjoying it, though it´s pretty sci fi on the physics side. Toctoc would love it, if he read novels. My poor old tired eyes wouldn´t let me go more than a small chapter last night. Bingo has picked up THE WRONG BOY by Willie Russel and is loving is. I loved it too and have been trying to get Lulu to read it for ages.

RANTING ABOUT THE PASSPORT OFFICE AND SMOKERS

Hola....the sun is shining again on spain! Lexy is leaving today so the sun has come back to apologise for the last week of awful weather and she´s grabbed a desperate hour on the beach. the car was like an oven, just the way we like it.

Bingo is bringing my two oldest grandsons out tomorrow. Passport problems abound; they should have got them done last year when I told them! (I haven´t worked out what I want to rename them so they are still N01 and No2) She had to pay fifty quid to upgrade N01´s passport and, travel down to Liverpool to collect it! So, his passport will have cost over one hundred and fifty pounds! And they were all fast-tracked by the post office! Bingo´s was supposed to be in Manchester getting printed, so hers is not here yet either; she called me ten mins ago, but I know that their postman doesn´t arrive till about now. I told her to go ask her neighbours if he´s been. What a farce. No2´s arrived over a week ago! This holiday is costing me a fortune.

We´re off to the quizz tonight in one of the ex-pat locals, Dick Turpin´s. Thursday night is darts night - men against women. The whole pub has to play, it´s great fun. The only thing I hate about it all is that these pubs are so small and the cigarette smoke so thick; I´m watching the clock, waiting till the entertainment is over so I can go home. The other night was pretty bad; even though windows and doors were open, I was surrounded by six smokers at my table alone. It was really hard to breathe all night and I was looking forward to leaving. So, after the darts I was watching the level of the drinks going down, and we´d been joined by a few friends. It was after midnight. I said it was time to go home but Lulu and Chris didn´t want to go. It had been decided earlier that I was driving, so Lulu was pretty pissed. She was urging me to stay for another drink, but by this time I was desperate to get out of there, so I said that I wanted to go home. I began to look like the party-pooper, there was silence and crumpled faces. Lulu took some of Chris´ beer. I told them that I couldn´t breathe, that I´d been watching the clock and really had to get out of there. I felt bad but I couldn´t stay. I then suggested that I might stay while they had another drink if they didn´t smoke...there was silence. Then Chris said that she didn´t want anyone telling her that she couldn´t smoke. I stood up then, and they had to follow.

I felt that they´d put me in an awful position. When you think about it; I´d sat, breathing their smoke for 3 hours but they wouldn´t sit in my non-smoking air for 5 minutes! I´m not imagining this...that is selfish. I spend a lot of time with smokers and never normally mind (whether I catch cancer or not) because that´s life. I´ve never given it all a moment´s thought. Smokers are selfish. These people are my friends; they profess to love me, but they apparently don´t give me, as a non-smoker, a moment´s thought - they won´t give up one cigarette for me.

GREETINGS FROM ALICANTE

Well, I arrived in spain to storms and the news that Lush has fallen and broken her hip! she´s in hospital in Elche. Lulu, Lexy and Bitsy met me at the airport. It was great to see Lexy; I haven´t seen her since last June - she´s so thin. She´s got a skinny arse, just like a bloke; no hips. We just went home and had a few glasses of wine and sat watching the lightening, trying unsuccessfully to catch it on camera.

Yesterday Lulu, Lexy, Bitsy, Chris and I drove through to Elche to see Lush. She was full of complaints. She´s got to get all the paperwork done before they can operate, and they´re a day behind on their list because of the Mayday holiday. So, it should be tomorrow; she´s on a morphine drip now and seems alright. She said, ´I must look a mess.´ I told her she looked okay and took a picture of her with my phone to show her, and she said, ´Christ I´m all double chins.´ I told her that I hadn´t taken the photo so she could say ´Do I look fat in this?´

We left Lush reclining in her traction and drove on to Guardamar to see the showroom that Lulu is setting up for her new business selling the fancy showers. Looking really good. Last time I saw it, in February, it was just a shell of a unit, just bricks and concrete. Now it´s got smooth walls and ceiling, a kitchen, toilet and beautiful shiny tiled floor. Lulu is almost a real business woman. We went next door to the lovely Chinese restaurant, THE WOK and had fab food. It´s a buffet and with the main course you fill your plate with the raw food, take it to the chef and he cooks it in the wok, with your choice of sauce; all fresh, hot and steaming. We couldn´t move afterwards. For sweet I had two icecreams...then Lexy came back with cheesecake, so I had to have some of that too!

Spent the rest of the night in bed with a movie on the laptop; THE COLDITZ STORY I got it free at WH. Smith. I had a lovely cup of Earl Grey tea and settled into my comfy bed...it was only 9pm! Lexy sat downstairs watching IT´S A WONDERFUL LIFE.

Raining this morning...well it has been and the place is full of puddles. Have just bought loads of fruit at the market; a little case of strawberries, melon, pineapple and oranges. I plan to be good, well for this week at least, though I keep having flashes of chocolate in my mind.

DECORATING THE NEW FLAT

What the hell am I doing? If I fall off this ladder I’ll break my neck, won’t be able to work and poverty will sneak in the back door. I like buying magazines without glancing at the £3.50 price tag. I like flying around the world when I feel like it…I like the fact that I have no idea how much my phone bill is! In one of my poor spells I couldn’t afford a 20p tub of margarine, and in another my children gave a round of applause when I put money in the electricity meter!

The paint promises to be Green Tea, and it is very soothing to spread, but I’m really stretching my limits trying to get it along the line of the ceiling considering that I’m only 5’2” and the height of the room is about 2 miles. When I get to the window I’m terrified that I’m going to crash out and land on some poor old woman, just popping out for her pension, so I take a few hours off and have another go after dark; it won’t matter if I flatten a teenager…well it won’t matter to me, though somebody must love them. I want to leave this room at least half-finished before I jet off back down to Devon in my £200 car, and that has to be cleaned out first. I came up here for a rest and can’t get a minute to visit a museum or art gallery for grandchildren and scrapbooking. Actually, I tell a lie; I did pop into town the other day and visited the Museum of Modern Art…and what a load of total CRAP; nothing but dull and uninteresting installations , and no photographs and, they’ve taken out the bicycle clock. I wouldn’t mind if they’d replaced it with something good. I slipped across the road to the art shop and bought some scrapbooking supplies - I think I might have passed the £100 mark by now. I also fell into WH Smith and bought a couple of scrapbooking albums that were on sale. Amazing bargains.

Again I wonder what the hell I am doing, wandering around the world, homeless, rootless when I’m fast approaching sixty, and then I think, I’ve got years to sit doing nothing in some old-folks home, maybe. And then I think, well I’ll just get them all doing arty-crafty stuff and turn the place into a growing concern, selling artwork, greeting cards and performing poetry. I only discovered scrapbooking a couple of months ago and I’ve got everyone around me at it. Tomorrow, someone at the gastroenterology department in the local hospital is going to chuck a camera down my throat and check for inappropriate behaviour of my body against my body. So maybe I’m beginning to fall apart. I have been tidying out some of my life, trying to remember stuff and get it written down for my children. And I have got rid of a lot of junk, though I keep buying more.

Well, I’d better go take a pill so I don’t get acid reflux during the night, especially as I’m planning to eat sausage and eggs in a minute and it’s already after ten. I keep a huge cushion beside me on the bed in case I feel it coming on, then I prop myself up and go back to sleep. So if I eat late, I begin the night propped up, then when I wake up very early in the morning I can get rid of it and slide down into my nice pillows for a different kind of sleep. Sometimes I think I lead a completely different kind of life than everyone else in the world, then I realise that we all do; no-one knows what goes on behind closed doors…and we are all different. I should be happy with my lot, and I really am; I know that behind some of those doors lie worse than little women wobbling at the top of a set of ladders with a tin of Green Tea vinyl silk.