OrganiSed Chaos

We all know about emoticons don’t we? etc etc etc…

Well I received some by email today that amused me no end…so guys, consider yourselves E-mooned…..

(_!_) regular ass

(___!___) fat ass

(!) tight ass

(_*_) sore ass

{_!_} swishy ass

(_O_) ass that’s been around

(_x_) kiss my ass

(_X_) leave my ass alone

(_zzz_) tired ass

(_E=mc2_) smart ass

(_$_) money coming out of his ass

(_?_) dumb ass

As you all know we have 5 girls (between us) When my 3 were growing up, in pre A-pop days, they fought as much as any other sisters and still (very rarely) have the odd stoush. Noone ever really got hurt badly when they fought, because the bulk of it was only words. Looking back on me and my sister, for that I’m truly thankful, because I can remember actually trying to kill my sister twice when we were younger! Yep, you heard right. In my own little mind that was the answer to all the woes in my life…get rid of her. We always had a strained relationship because we’re so different. I say what I think, she would say one thing to you and the opposite about you. I would tell the truth to my own detriment, she would lie to everybody else’s detriment to save her own skin. We were always at opposite ends of the scale! In some ways we still are, but both have mellowed (to a point!)

Anyway, back to the murderous thoughts!

In the first house we lived in we had one lot of neighbours with a garden that was a kids wonderland. Big trees begging to be climbed, lush green grass to roll on, and lots of bushes to run between for chasey, hide behind for hide and seek with open slather to go in whenever we wanted. (These people had no children and delighted in hearing the sounds of kids at play in their yard) Cowboys and indians was a favorite game. It was always me and my brother against HER. The vegetable garden in this yard was huge! In said vegie garden were some of the best tomato bushes you would ever see, and in the right season, laden with fruit. The bushes needed stakes to hold them up, and the stakes were made of ti tree, ever ready to use as spears or swords, but the BIG thing about them was they were always sharpened to a point for ease of hammering into the ground and there were lots of them. The day in question my brother and I were indians, my sister and one of the local neighbourhood kids were the cowboys. We had the spears, they had the cap guns. She was being decidedly unfair and refusing to die when quite legitimately “killed” So i reasoned the only way to make it fair WAS to kill her. She stuck her head out from behind a bush and that was my chance! I lifted the spear, lined her up and let rip! As it sailed through the air I knew it would hit her, without a doubt, and hit her it did…right in the middle of the forehead! She went down like a pricked balloon and didn’t move, the stake literally hanging from her head. My first thought was “well, that killed the bitch, teach her not to play fair!!” As we moved towards her the stake fell to one side and the blood started flowing. Lots and lots and lots of blood. It was at that point I realised I had seriously hurt her! Even in my young mind (about 6 from memory) I knew I would be lucky to survive the wrath of my mother!!! Bottom line was, 4 stitches, the flogging of my life and my sister, to this day, has an interesting star shaped scar in the very middle of her forehead. When I was down there recently we were actually talking about the incident. She still hasn’t forgiven me as it turns out!!

The second time was in a different house. It was in a cul de sac which sloped down and our house was on a block about half way down, so had been built up on one side. It was quite high, about 15-20 feet to the actual floorboards. Our bedroom was at the very back of the house, which was the steepest part of the required build up. We had double bunks, her on the top, me on the bottom. One day she had a girlfriend around and all 3 of us were on the top bunk just mucking around as girls do. Now the weather was quite warm,the window was open, and the bunks were beside the window. I said something she took offence at and was ordered from the top bunk. I refused! She insisted! I still refused! She told me she would make me get off, I responded with “like this?” and promptly shoved her…hard! Yep…off the top bunk, hit the window sill with an enormous thump and fell out the window to the ground below. Again, my first thought was “woohoo, I’ve done it, she’s dead” because when I looked out the window, there was not a lot of movement happening let me tell you. End result that time was a day in hospital, multiple xrays, doctors examinations, not surprisingly, a flogging to be remembered, being grounded for about 3 months, and the threat of many more dire consequences! We were also discussing this when I was down, and again, she still holds a small grudge! Funny about that.

As an adult, I shudder at some of the things we did as kids, particularly TO each other! I was fortunate in that my girls never did these types of things to each other, because I have to say I’m not sure how I would have dealt with it…

When I did this post, I originally password protected it. I don’t know what changed my mind a couple of hours later, it just felt better this way

The silent tears
They just won’t stop
I want to sleep
My eyes won’t close
I should have come
To see you there
Just to hold you
One more time
Now I live with it
Until I join you
Then I’ll hold you
Until time stops

When does a persons life become their own again, after constantly being embroiled in seemingly endless problems, dramas, tears, arguments and disagreements? Or does it never happen?

When do we get the chance to be US as opposed to a wife/husband, mother/father, sister/brother, daughter/son, niece/nephew, grandmother/grandfather, or whatever the hell it is we need to be on any given day?

When can we stand up and say NO MORE?

How the hell do we get our lives back?

How do we stop the downward spiral towards what appears to be a bottomless pit of misery? A pit you’ve been in before and managed to claw your way out of through sheer determination and strength of will?

How do things go from fucking wonderful to absolute crap, in what seems an instant, over what is (realistically) absolute bullshit?

How does one stop from falling over under the weight?

I’m tired. Sort out your own problems for once. Do NOT look to me for a solution. You’re an adult, how about YOU fix it, just this once? You’ve been taught the right and wrong way of doing things, how about trying on your own for a change?

*Before anyone says anything here, please know this. I’m not looking for analysis or advice, I simply needed to get this off my chest. It is NOT directed at any one person or happening, it’s the result of many years of being leaned on, and a lifetime of having to be the “strong” one. Having said that, if you feel the need to comment, please do. As always, it will be more than welcome*

These were the words I was greeted with, from my Dad, on the phone at 6.00am this morning.
My aunty passed away at 4.00am with him by her side, holding her hand.
She was his only sibling. It’s been coming, I know, but the actual call to be informed was not easy.
My Dad was (understandably) quite distressed.
Tasha is also quite upset as she was closer to her than the other girls and has been visiting on a regular basis for quite some time, so she’s feeling it badly.

I’m not sure if I’m going down south or not, but probably not.
Everybody is saying it’s a long way to go for the funeral and I need to go when Tash has the baby.
The lady in question would be the first to say “Tash needs you more sweetie”
To a degree that’s true, but I’m still not convinced.
She’s been there my whole life and whilst I may not have seen a lot of her in recent years, she was a HUGE part of my life for many, many years.
School holidays were not complete without the argument over who’s turn it was to go and stay. I remember being there a LOT, so perhaps I threw the biggest tantrums to get my way??
But that’s a subject for a post of it’s own, in the future, once I can think about her without crying.

Anyhow, the blog will have to take a back seat for a little while.

*UPDATE It has been decided I will go south. I’m going to take a couple of weeks off and stay with Tasha after the funeral. They won’t let her go past her due date because of the problems she’s had so I KNOW she will have the baby while I’m there. I can give her a hand with the boys while SIL is at work then once she does have it, he will take time off as well to give her a hand when she goes home from hospital.
It seems the logical thing to do. Dad will be pleased to have the 3 of us there, because it’s not going to be easy for him.
I’ll speak to SWMBO to see if she’ll keep an eye on the place for me.
She’s a nice girl, I don’t think it will be a problem.
I’m not leaving until Sunday night and will have to work all day tomorrow, Saturday and part of Sunday to do it, but that doesn’t matter*