It’s the lovely Maya, sweetest cat in the world.
A new bill in the UK will make pet owners (I prefer the term “caretakers”, but I am a freak) legally responsible for the welfare of the animals under their care.
Custard is licking my hand, so I am having to type this one handed.
I took Custard to the vet this morning for his post surgery checkup. THe antibiotics seem to be disturbing his tummy a little, so he has a shaved butt to avoid getting his rear wet. Not a very dignified look, and he isn’t happy. Matthew the wonder vet is pretty happy with the results of the surgery, but his other (right) eye has been a bit weepy, so we may have another issue to deal with. I am to continue the injections and keep a close eye on him. If he gets any worse we’ll put him on another antibiotic as well. Poor baby.
Hornsby Hospital rang at about 11.30am to cancel my appointment for 4pm this afternoon. The appointment I booked about six fucking weeks ago. No apologies for the language, I am really pissed off. The next available appointment was for tomorrow morning, which I can’t do as I am helping Adam and Sarah move house (and I’m not about to add to their stress levels by cancelling on them!), so I have rescheduled for the 22nd, tomorrow week. It’s not really a big deal, and I am probably just being a drama queen, but I was really looking forward to starting to get to know the midwives, and forming a connection with the team that is going to be there when I give birth. Humph.
I woke up a bit snotty this morning (blamed it on the cheese I’ve had in the last week), but now I have also developed lung oysters. I think a cold may be coming to stay.
In happy news, I found a tiny weed growing out of my car this morning. No pictures, as it is now raining (yay! just what NSW needs, NOT!), but I will attempt a pic if it clears up a little. (No, this isn’t really happy news, and I will kill it as soon as possible, and yet it did make me smile).
And in even happier news, last week Mum and Dad also offered to help us with a significant chunk of cash. So we’re meeting with the guy from the credit union next Wednesday and will be putting in an application form. We’ve also found a house that we like enough to have a builder look at, so the next few weeks look like being exciting ones!
With devastation like this, words don’t really cut it, you need pictures to understand.
Thanks everyone for your well wishes for mum. She had a much better birthday today (I hope), we had a family lunch, Adam and Sarah bought Alex for a visit, Aunty Emily was there too. We had a fabulous cheese plate, I made a huge pot of minestrone, and dad procured a lovely sponge for dessert. I had a few sips of the special champagne from Adam and Sarah’s wedding – and I ate some soft cheese too. What a rebel!
Yesterday we had a busy morning, raced in to town – Mark to sing at a wedding, me for WWKIP Day. The bride wore fur, and really put Mark off his singing. I had a lovely (but cold) time at WWKIP day, visit Web Goddess and JenWren for pictures.
Mark joined us for a wee knit before driving us straight to a gathering of the Nettles. It was lovely to catch up with everyone, especially Christine and Matt, who we haven’t seen since they announced that they are having a baby! Their baby is due three weeks after Ampersand, on the 13th of December. So Ampersand will have a cousin around the same age on both sides 🙂
Of course I was so tired after such a full day that I crashed as soon as we got home, and I forgot to take my pill. I woke up at 3am and couldn’t get back to sleep (the pills are actually sleeping pills, the anti nausea is a side effect). Decided not to take the pill at 3am since I had to be up early to make soup. And woke up regretting it today. It has been rough – apparently I am not “over it” yet, and still need my pills – at least I can almost function with them!
Had a surprise visit from some dear friends that live up North – it was great to see them, but I wish I hadn’t felt so green.
The secret project I’ve talking about is that Mark and I are looking into buying a house. We’ve been looking at properties for the last few weeks. The reason I didn’t say anything is that we don’t have a deposit, so the home loan wasn’t a sure thing, and I didn’t want to jinx it.
We haven’t found the perfect place yet, but we’re looking around Granville, where we are hoping to get a 3 bedroom house with a garden, that is in good enough repair that we can move straight in – before I get too huge too lift a box. Keep everything crossed.
So, the big news is that Mark’s wonderful parents (who went a long way towards keeping both Mark and I sane during the last few years), have generously offered to give us quite a big (huge) chunk of the deposit that we’ll need to avoid paying mortgage insurance.
Of course I burst into tears immediately. I can’t believe how lucky we are, and how different this year has been to the last few years.
She found out last night that an old family friend had died, and the funeral was this morning. So first thing on her birthday, she went to a funeral.
Then she picked me up, and we did the speed tour of Granville – a lovely spot. Home to meet Aunty Emily, who is staying for the weekend so that her son can have a weekend off.
Mark and I went over at around seven so that Dad could take Mum out for a birthday dinner while we took care of Aunty Emily. About half an hour after they left, her mobile rang (she had left it behind). Mum works for the Department of Community Services, and has special training in disaster welfare. So whenever there is a fire, or a flood, or a landslide, etc, her phone rings, and we don’t see her for days.
Apparently, our wild weather has closed the train lines to the Central Coast and the Hunter region. So several thousand people are now trapped in Hornsby, and mum has to find services to accommodate them.
I rang the restaurant where they were having dinner and tracked them down. Dad came home to get the phone (luckily the restaurant wasn’t far away). And while they were having dinner, the call came – the emergency was on, and mum had to go.
So instead of brandy by the fireside, mum is celebrating her birthday with a few thousand pissed off temporarily homeless people, in an RSL, while a storm rages outside.
Please spare a thought for mum – who I know will do an amazing job in trying circumstances, and for all the people who can’t get home to their loved ones tonight.
Despite the fact that they meet at the unholy hour of 10am on a MONDAY morning, they are quite a lovely and welcoming bunch. If only I had given up working years ago!
The ATM ate my credit card after I got the pin wrong three times, and I had to queue at Medicare so I had enough money to buy lunch, which made me a few minutes late for my appointment with the social worker at the hospital. Which wouldn’t have been a major disaster if they hadn’t HIDDEN THE DOOR TO THE BLOODY BUILDING.
I was actually in tears when I found the right place, after a full TWENTY minutes of asking polite questions of random hospital staff, who were all rendered clueless by the renovations. Eventually, someone rang another department in the same building to ask about the hidden entrance – which could only be accessed through a the old psych building, and down a covered walkway. In a locked cupboard in a dark basement behind a door with a sign saying “beware of the tiger”. Insert profanity here.
Anyway, apparently I am not in imminent danger of self harm. It is perfectly normal to feel isolated, afraid, miserable and out of control when your body has been taken over by a parasite, you can’t breathe without gagging, getting out of bed has you rushing for the toilet, and your idea of a fabulous meal is a baked potato, hold the flavour. Apparently, there is a normal period of adjustment, and a certain amount of helpless weeping and self pity is completely normal and healthy. But do try to get out a bit more when you can.
So I went straight to mum & dad’s after the hospital, and passed out in my old bed. Had intense, visceral dreams about eating smoked salmon, and woke up gagging. Does this mean my body wants it, or not? A question for another day, when the thought of eating flesh isn’t repulsive again.
So if you made it that far, you deserve a treat. Check out Andrea‘s answer to the 7 thing meme – a cracking read.