Annual dusting

I was gone for a while, possums. It's been somewhat of a difficult 12 months, but I'm still here which is good because I almost thought I wasn't for a while.

Things happened and I became very sad, beyond sad even. I started to disappear. All I did was work and stay home. It was too hard to do anything else. I didn't know you could get that sad and stay that sad for that long, but now I know you can. It's easier now. I still have days when I feel very sad and always will, but there are brighter times now too.

Late last year I parted ways with someone I'd been in an on and off relationship for many years. That wasn't why I was so sad, but I think it happened partly because I was so sad. I was sad and he was always drinking or so it seemed. He couldn't see or hear me anymore and I didn't want to sit and watch someone drink and smoke themselves into the ground. The distance between us was so big in the end and there was no reason to close the gap anymore. So then we had no contact at all for some months and letting go was easy, I found, at least for the first five months. Recently there had been contact again; it couldn't be avoided and it stirred up the previously calm waters and I have struggled a little with letting go. I thought if I let go I'd stop being...something. But then I realised that I didn't recognise him anymore and he sure knows nothing about me or who I am now. So I have let go and I'm happier in quiet way, a little tinged with sadness. It's going to be all right, whatever "it" is. What I've learnt is that those who make the most noise about their loyalty and friendship are usually the least loyal and friendship means very little to them when push comes to shove. And that's okay, in the end, because it has to be. That's how life is - unpredictable and rewarding, disappointing and challenging, and one moves forward and eventually sees that what initially seems unforgiveable is really just a catalyst for change and new opportunities.

Noise and Pencils have grown. They're still beautiful and amazing, they're still difficult and frustrating and I still run the whole gamut of emotions almost on a daily basis dealing with them. And occasionally they're just really nice and sweet. I love them both like crazy, nothing changes there.

The father has faded into the distance and doesn't really bother himself with them anymore. I have to say I don't miss him or his running interference in our lives and the kids never mention him. He's like a faded old photograph in a box at the back of a cupboard in a house we left a long time ago.

So there's a notable absence of things to get shitty about these days. So what does that leave me to write about?

I'll let you know tomorrow.

Bon soir, possums. x x

Bubbles, dahling

Ooh possums, I do love the occasional fizzy, flamboyant, let them eat cake moment.....

(Seriously, let them eat cake. I can't be arsed cooking.)

Except there's no cake.

That's all right. I'm just going to enjoy this glass of bubbles for a moment longer.

Filler Post

Stupid S*#t Heard At Our House

Q: Why are you wearing that scarf on your head?

A: I've converted to Islam.

Q: Why would you want to convert to Islam?

A: Because my head would be warmer as a Muslim.

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Q: Where are the clean bath towels?

A: In the linen closet.

Q: What are they doing in there?

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N: What's with this chicken?

O: It's marinated in Malaysian satay.

N: It tastes like you've covered it in cough syrup.

O: No, but thanks for recipe.

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