Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Er ...

Soon most of us will be starting out on our journey through the next year. There are a few things that I want to see happen in my life:

  • get my book proposal accepted
  • finish writing my new novel
  • possibly sell one painting
  • visit somewhere special for a holiday
  • see my new grandchild and the rest of my family (note not top of list anymore - cos I've kinda given up on that dream for the meantime). 
  • read more good news stories in the daily news, sick of doom and gloom. 

There are a couple of things that I don't want to see or read about anymore in 2016 (wishful thinking, I know):

  • no more reports about Isis atrocities. 
  • no more fucking Kardashian 'news' updates
  • no more superhero movies 
  • no more fake-tanned, eyebrow shaved, silicone tits, 'celebrities' making news headlines 'cos they dared to show half a boob at some meaningless party.
  • no more tights worn with nothing covering the bumhole or vjayjay on seriously obese women, skinny women, hell on any women!  You should be wearing trousers, jeans, or God dammit a SKIRT people.  I'm so sick of camel toi everywhere you go and seeing skanky g-strings (or nothing) worn underneath slack or old crinkled pantyhose/tights. Why do women insist on wearing these things as OUTER GARMENTS!?   Tights should be worn under a suitably long tee-shirt, blouse or dress.  At the very least you should have a top that covers your fucking guava. It's hideous seeing all these birds swanning around with their vagina lips flapping about, or else their fanny cringes behind a crepe thin pair of overworn and overstretched tights/pantyhose. It's disgusting people!  Have some respect for children and old people, stop fucking wearing tights as outer garments! 
There. That's better. I'll go and have a lie down now. 

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Looking forward

I suppose I am a bit of a diarist … I can’t help myself, I write on scraps of paper in the car whilst waiting for the kids outside school.  I write at night when everyone's gone to sleep in bound books that I purchase specifically for the purpose - no not diaries with dates, but journal type books that I can fill when I want to.  I can't stop myself from dairising and writing my thoughts down but despite that, I always thought it was a complete waste of time, an indulgence, an obsession, a private little problem unique to me. I hardly ever read through my old diaries (and I have hundreds of them, going back to the Eighties - I used to have some from the Sixties but they were lost with the last international move) yet they are something that I always drag along with me whenever I move home and I don’t know why.  When I’m packing, I always manage to find space for the diaries and they weigh a ton!

Since the dawning of the age of the electronic blog,  I’ve semi-diarised some things about my life on and off on the internet – nothing with too much detail because I’m very suspicious of the security of information posted online, which is one of the reasons I so abhor Facebook. 

It’s only since I’ve been searching for a publisher for my book* that I’ve discovered there are publishers who focus on diarists.  This has given me a lot of food for thought and I’m hesitantly interested in the idea of compiling something to offer to such a publisher next year – maybe I’ll have more luck. 

I always believed that Diarists, good ones, didn’t write about their trivial daily grind or the hassles they have in their own lives but that they write about things of national or international importance.  It seems this is not entirely true.  So I’m going to try and find some already published diaries and see what I’m up against. 

* more on that when the current publisher has finished checking my proposal - sometime next year, or next century, they weren't very precise with dates. 

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Whoopy doo ... an LAAC ANNIVERSARY

Jesus ... five YEARS ago today I resurrected the original Life As A Carrot blog and it has evolved into what it is now ... something of a pale shadow of the one created back in 2001.   I don't post very often on here these days but I couldn't miss my LAAC anniversary, could I?
I had no idea back in December 2010, that I would eventually get to live in the UK permanently, my mother had died earlier in the year and I was planning a trip to Blightey to visit my aunts for some R & R ...

Monday, December 20, 2010

let it snow ... let it snow ... let it snow ...

but not at Heathrow
(that rhymes in a weird kinda way)

Crikey, i'm getting increasingly nervous watching the UK weather reports ... minus 27 deg C is an estimate of what temps are going to sink to this week ... wtf?!
i'm going to need the army to get me to Wales, never mind my police escort.
Oh i didn't tell you - my uncle and cousin are collecting me from Heathrow - both retired with some degree of seniority from the British Bobby service. I keep making jokes that they should just put a blue light on the car, thereby making sure they get to the airport in double quick time (in case of congestion and what not) ... they don't take me up on the joke.

every year, round about now, i get asked to 'burn' a Christmas cd - so as to create the right 'ambience' whilst we wait for the Christmas Eve din dins to cook proper like. We usually start cooking in the morning and by the time the damn turkey etc. is ready to eat, table set, candles lit, blah blah, we are all so knackered that we can't face a full plate of food. I don't do Christmas cd's very good - usually end up putting some weird stuff on just to freak people out (at least i've done that in the past when there weren't little uns running about) but this year, i've got to act grown up and do a good job. I have about three gigs of toons (Carols and the like), all the traditional and not so traditional things but somehow when they are all assembled for the family to sing along badly to (nobody ever knows all the words) they lose any kind of magic they had to start off with.

when i was a little geek back in Yorkshire (oh here we go with anecdotes, cue to all to fall asleep), we would be frog-marched from our local church into various modes of transport and shipped out to snowbound farmsteads and outlying manors. once assembled in a frozen tableau in front of the doorways, we would shiver and quake out all manner of hymns by the tonload. Ah, them were the days.

Oh well, i must stop reminiscing and get on with it. I think this year i WILL still include a Tom Waits Christmas toon (something cheery like "Just the Right Bullets")


So .... 
This new LAAC site has had a total of 16,782 page views and a total 346 posts since starting out in Dec 2010.   That's not actually very good, when you consider that my family blog, which is not open to public view, has had 10,990 page views and a total of 494 posts since it started in December 2012. 

But where's the audience? 
The original LAAC blog had an identifiable group of regular commenters, who would regularly butt in with jokes, dirty comments and wisecracks ... that stopped as soon as the new LAAC blog began, why is that I wonder?   Anyway, it is through that I met arguably my best friend in the world, Paul and nearly, but not quite, almost ended up living in Arizona.    I'm glad my life has turned out the way it has, I moaned a lot at one point about the need to leave South Africa and that's happened - I'm not sorry, don't miss it at all but yeah, I DO miss my family.  But family is just a skype away and if that's not good enough, save up a few pounds and I can be back there in a jiffy, it's all relative.

See ya.  
Next post will come out of the New Year ... so whoever's out there still reading this drivel, have yourself a merry little Christmas, remember that I love you and get completely trashed on New Years Eve, you deserve it. 

Monday, October 19, 2015

Hohums de dums

Ooo boy ... well I've sent out about 50  'book proposal - cover email enquiry' emails today ... so sit back and wait for the rejections to pile up - I thrive on 'em.  Got three already.
It would be nice if just ONE of them said that they would actually like to see a book proposal from me, then i'd feel like I'd won one small battle.   So keeping positive, that's what I'm a doin'

Radiohead are almost finished with their next album.  I know I'm going to hate it, I just know.  But it'll be worthwhile trying to like it, when it's finished.

I bought a compilation cd of stuff that was released in the Nineties for 1 pound this weekend - the cd's are so cheap because they've all been 'repurposed' ... whatever that means - they look and sound brand new to me.  I digress.  It was interesting to hear some of the cool stuff again that I'd forgotten about. What's happened to the music industry?  Why is it so full of absolute crap?  There's bugger all to listen to that's original anymore. I hate trawling around YouTube, it's depressing as all hell trying to find stuff to listen to that's not pretentious claptrap or brain-damaging noise.  I just want to hear summat different for a change, is that so difficult? (Obviously it is).

School hollerdays start again this week (midterm break), so that means I won't be getting much time to do any work.  I'm really TRYING to write in the mornings, or do stuff that's writerly (hence approaching all the publishers today and yesterday).  I'm having a go at pohms as well, gawd.

Friday, September 18, 2015

Oh yeah and ...

Why are High School girls allowed to wear so much make-up they put Kim Kardashian to shame?  And what happened to the idea that hair should be neat and tidy, tied up if it's long  - not teased 'til you look like Amy Winehouse on a bad hair day?   There's a time and a place for creativity in the way you look and school isn't it.   There is a uniform at LSHS, almost all the children wear it. So why are girls allowed to hike their skirts so the hemline sits just above their fannies?  Don't they have a hemline inspection at schools anymore? Why not? 

And then there are girls and boys who walk out from school smoking, they've barely left the gates and they're lighting up.  This was an instant detention offence 'back in the day'.  If you're going to smoke, at least have the decency to respect your uniform and wait until you get home.  Don't walk down the road in your LSHS blazer puffing away like a slag.

Some of kids obviously have absolutely no regard for authority, couldn't give a shit about any rules or regulations and if they have no respect for their uniform, their school, the school system and rules, what kind of a future do they have in the real world?  If they don't care, why should they be forced to attend school - let 'em stay at home smoking and lounging about, so that there are more spaces for children who really do want to LEARN and make something of their lives.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

And so it goes ...

When she came back from her summer holidays, my grand-daughter brought me back a pretty marble-like beachstone that had on it the words , 'I'm not crabby'  There are a few things that regularly piss me off, the list is growing as I get older but most times I keep the list to myself (yes, you guessed it, not this time).    This is my platform, so it's the only place I can really shout out about some things that really get my goat ... so here goes with the number one biggest bugbear of the moment.

I am absolutely sick to death of Facebook.  I joined and activated my account a very long time ago (before it was uber popular and everyone and his dog was on it) - i.e. back in about 2001 or round about there.  I never used it. I also tried MySpace at the same time and used that more but also I haven't used MySpace in about ten years.  I have had a lot of Twitter accounts for various things - businesses and personal - I also got rid of that lot last year.
When I moved to the UK, it seemed that the only way I was going to be able to keep up to date with what was going on at the kids' schools was to accept friend requests on FB and start checking it regularly for informative posts.  It is such a monumental waste of time.   

I don't leave my FB open all the time, I've got way more stuff to do on my machine and having FB constantly bleeping in the background gets on my fucking nerves.  So I only nip in and out, just to check what someone has asked me and if I can reply.  What's the bloody point of a Like button?  What stupid inanity is that thing?  People 'like' anything - your pet's dying and you post about how much you love him/her and you get a hundred likes, why?  Are people brain dead?
Why is it necessary for people to repost any digital joke, God message or YouTube link that they get sent? FB is so clogged up with garbage it's like wading through a sewer trying to read actual content of any worth.

Another thing I completely do not like is this Tag option.  Why do that?  People know when they're in your fucking photo - so why repost it with a tag? Why do people post selfies every single five minutes? Are they scared they'll forget what they look like?  Very few people (celebrities included) actually look good in a selfie.  And why, oh why in God's earth to people post reams and reams of photos, in diary format on a daily basis (or hourly basis in some cases) of what their kids are doing? Are you fucking stupid and mad? Do you want your child to get abducted?  FB is trawled by cretins, anyone can see your photos if they are even a little bit 'puter savvy.  Stop doing it for pity's sake or if you are going to do it, make the bloody photos PRIVATE so only your family can see 'em.

Why get invited to events that you're not interested in or have never opted into? This is a growing trend and something I'm very annoyed about at the moment.   The problem is (it's very subtle) if you don't respond, you're ostracised.   It's borderline classroom bullying tactics.

Anyway, I've given Facebook a good couple of years and frankly it hasn't matched up to my expectations, I'm just not using it anymore. 

So let's get something clear, I'm not going to be checking your photos, your personal minute by minute updates of how you're feeling, what you're having for dinner, when you took your last crap ... I don't care how bored you are (get a life then) and if you message me on there, you won't be getting any response.

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Digital photos

I wish there was a cost-effective way to store and display thousands upon thousands of photos that a person has accumulated over a period of a few years - and not on one of those horrible digital photo frames.   It's way too expensive to print out photos these days and most of the time they just don't print true to colour and you have to do so much fiddling about with them - on a 'puter screen they look fine and dandy but once printed out they just look crap.  

I have millions (I really don't think that's an over-statement either) of stored photos - which are on my own personal machines, or in cloud storage apps like Photobucket and Flickr.  I've put a lot of photo folders up on Mega. I've stored them on DVD's - yeah right, not such a great idea but I CAN still access them (I don't know for how much longer though).  A lot of people say you should never store your photos on DVD's or CD's because the surface degrades and eventually you lose that data. I suppose that's a fair enough argument.   In the olden days, you just printed out your photos (because you took twenty to thirty at a time and it was manageable- you only took photos when you went on holiday anyway, or at christenings and special occasions). I have very old photo albums that I brought with me from SA but I have taken so many photos with my digital cameras over the past ten or twenty years that it's impossible to imagine printing these out.  So what to do?  I don't want to destroy them, or let them degrade to a point where I can't access them again.  I have chronicled many important things over the course of our family's lifetime and I think a lot of these photos have great value to us as a family.  Any suggestions? 

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Oh it were this ...

I started to write something  and completely lost the plot, here's the second 'go'.

Cyber space is weird, which of course is the uber under-statement of the century but it is.  When I started blogging in about 2001, there weren't that many of us around and you certainly didn't blog in those days for commercial gain.  There were no crash courses in how to blog, how to get your SEO's up, what are the right and wrong ways to blog, how to maximise your hits etc. etc. blah-blah ... now there are a plethora of courses you can do for free (or not if you're really stoopid) about how to blog. Why?  For fuck's sake why do marketing departments have to take everything over??  Why does simply having fun have to become a science?

Anyway, when I started blogging there were a little group of us who all used to visit each other's pages and comment, vote, hang out, send emails, be friendly ... yeah, I made lots of friends in those early days, some of them are still with me today in the actual living part of the world, I've met them in person and they are my bestest buddies.  One of these bloggers disappeared off the radar for a long time a while back and I was right worried at the time about her.  Anyway, I'm really, really glad to see that she's back blogging - it kinda reaffirms something but I don't know what it is.

I started a post ...

... no for God's sake I'm not making a reference to that horrible Bee Gees toon (oh shit, now it's in my head).  
I was just thinking about stuff earlier on and now I've completely forgotten what it was I wanted to say.
Anyway, I'm happy.  That's the main thing, right?

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

This and that ...

We are fast approaching autumn here in the northern hemisphere and what will be our 4th Christmas (end of the third full year since arriving here in December 2012). Things always seem to gather momentum in the summer holidays and the roll doesn't really stop until New Year.  Life is so different to what I was experiencing in South Africa, even though I'm still looking after kids a lot of the time, I do get to run my own business from home, doing transcripts and this is now starting to bring in some 'real' money, I hope it continues.  Being self-employed isn't a picnic, a lot of days I just don't feel like even bothering to secure work for the day or week ahead and it's important to have a bit of support in the form of nagging from my daughter, 'What work have you got to do today?' that kind of thing.  I dread the nag, I hate it but I NEED it, otherwise I'd just slip into farting around with paints and crafts all day and there's no fucking money in that!

I miss my sons terribly - especially Dave, who keeps promising that he'll skype me when he gets home from work, or 'we must skype this weekend mom, I miss you so much' ... Sunday night comes and still no skype and this has gone on for over three months.  It's depressing.  Both my sons make squeaks every now and then that they want to come and live in the UK and ask me to do research for them, I get my hopes up and nothing happens for another month or so. 

Friday, July 10, 2015

For my mum ...

Hermanus, Cape Town (Grotto Beach)

5 years ago today you were taken from me, Mum.  Not one minute has gone by since then that I haven't wished I could hear your voice, or just ask your advice about things that happen to us as we go through life.  It's weird but I don't have that feeling of loss about dad, my soul doesn't hurt when I think about him.  When he went, I just accepted it and got on with life - maybe it was because we were already estranged by then, so I didn't really feel much when he passed.
On the other hand, you were always my rock and I feel like the universe shifted off kilter when I watched you die.   I'm on loose ground, wobbling about with no sense of direction. Even though I know somehow you will always be with me in spirit, it would be so nice to hug you, Mum; to breathe in your scent and give you a kiss; to ask you if I'm doing alright, if I'm on the right track?  I miss you more now than I ever did - so anyone who says 'it gets easier with time' doesn't know what they are talking about, because it doesn't.

The Rowberry family up in Scotland with my Great Auntie Nel and Great Uncle Arthur (far left and right of photo) My mum is standing at the back, top of the photo ... her beloved dad (my Grandad), is sitting on the ground at the front.  The middle row left to right is my Auntie Jean (who now doubles as my surrogate mum and intrepid travelling companion), my lovely Auntie Barbara (who's just had a hip replacement) and my Grandma. I think this photo was taken in the Thirties (not sure).     

Monday, July 6, 2015

There's no 'social' in Facebook et al

I'm so sick of Faceplant, emails and the Internet in general at the moment. It's all riddled with crap. I'm giving it a miss for a couple of months. Seriously.

You guessed it, I went and got a 'rejection' slip/email from the publishers ... I was expecting it.  Never mind, I've found another publisher that might be a better bet.  I'm going to spend the next couple of months (see above) reworking the manuscript sample pages, book proposal etc. and see where I get with a revamp.


Wednesday, June 24, 2015

I've had it with this gig ...

What happens when your best just isn't good enough?
How many times does a person have to try at something before deciding to quit?
Are people who don't quit, even though they are failing all the time, just too stupid to realise that they haven't got it?
Or are the people who don't quit, just so full of their own ego that it doesn't matter to them, the aim is not to win but just to 'do' to be in the game?
I'm so tired of trying to figure it out.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Still trying valiantly to keep up the morale of the troops ....

Yeah, well I haven't heard anything from the publisher yet ... I suppose, to be fair, I have to only start ... erm frettin' ... after the end of this month. So I'll just have to be patient until 30th July.     After that though it's a bit of serious editing and soul searching, then I'm sending the proposal out to a group of publishers all at once (I've been told this is not the way to do it but be damned with 'em).

I've also tried (yep, unsuccessfully) to approach interior designers in the Norfolk area to see if they want bespoke abstract art for any projects.  Again, to be fair, I only contacted ONE designer. So come Monday I'll be sending out the same bloody email to as many ID's as I can find - there's got to be ONE person out there who's interested enough in the images of my work to want to see them in the flesh (as it were) and ergo actually PURCHASE stuff, or even better still COMMISSION new work (the ultimate goal, hey?)

Onwards and upwards ...

Tuesday, June 9, 2015


I cannot fathom out why I woke up this morning and just wanted to cry ...?  The horrible feeling followed me downstairs and out into the world and I was still feeling like I should just sit down and weep when I took Ewan to school.  Why do I feel like that?  It's so weird and scary.
Everything is well, I don't have any major problems (other than my bloody left shoulder, which should get fixed on the 26th when I go for the ultrasound and steroid injection). 
Can't figure it out at all.  Anyway, trying my best to shake it off ... (aaargh ... god please don't start singing like Tay Tay ... fuck it and shoot me in the head now!).

Monday, June 8, 2015

Jawellnofine and other musings

Hey summer's here ... well we had one whole day of it yesterday, amazing.  It started off wonderful this morning but the Norfolk wind has blown in, bringing tons of clouds with it and the temp has dropped noticeably.

Here's a couple of new paintings that I've done this past week or so.  Very heavy texture, using lots of different materials - some oils, nail varnish ... you know whatever was lying around.
This one's called "Driftwood" 


The one below is teensy weensy but I likes it - it sparkles (mainly cos I chucked some glitter into the 'trees' when they were drying)

 Our little garden is now giving forth of the blooms ...

 Driving into Diss (a small town just up the road from us), you will see a mass of poppies on the right hand side of the road, going on for about a mile ... it's really pretty but difficult to photo because there's nowhere to stop. Take my word for it, it looks like this:

Google sourced image

We went out to an Open Farm this past weekend (along with a couple of thousand other folks from South Norfolk).   It were right fun (as they would say here in Norfolk).     Here are two photos taken within a couple of seconds of each other of the view up the field away from where we were parked.  I think Microsoft should have used these images for the Windows stuff hey? :)

I don't know what it is about the UK but flowers seem to look brighter here, the grass IS greener, the sky is bluer ... why is that? 

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Guess we're staying

I got to thinking this past weekend how less stressed we all are as a family, since we came to live in Blightey.  Yes, it's not all roses and creamcheese but we are adjusting to life in the UK much faster than I ever thought we would.

I love the countryside, the light, the immense variety of green, the pretty hedgerow plants growing along the sides of the fields and roadside at any time of year.  Seeing bunnies in the fields instead of squatter camps.  Walking out in a local woodland, completely safe, getting back to your car and it's still there!   And the wheels are still on it!  The country air is gorgeous and when you don't have bright hot blistering sunshine every day (a la Southern Africa) it makes a person really appreciate powder blue skies and clear days - everything sparkles here when the sun is out. 

The day-to-day stress of life in South Africa is immense and I realised this past long weekend just how long it takes a person to get that out of your system - we're coming up to our third Christmas here and the urban living stress is still faintly echoing.  I don't think it will ever go away.  Urban stress is so much a part of your everyday life in South Africa that you just accept it and it becomes second nature to always be on high alert.  Pulling out of our driveway can easily be a life and death situation.  Walking to the shops ... well we couldn't walk to the shops where we were living in Edenvale, could we?  At least not without getting accosted, mugged or intimated along the way.  When you live in Gauteng, you get so used to the absurdity and abnormality of living behind 8 foot high security walls with at least 3 foot of razor wire and electric fencing on top that you think it's normal.  I wish I could convince my boys who are still living over there to understand that there's another way of living.  There's more to life than planning your day around  'load-shedding' - which is a polite South African euphemism for mis-management of the national grid.  

We stayed in a brand new house in SA but it probably won't stand intact for another five years, due to the crap building regulations, graft and corruption.  The concrete between our bricks was mainly composed of sand, a really good storm and one or two of those walls are going to come down! And forget the doors and windows, none of them seal properly (something they have the angle on here in the UK).  Every summer it was comical how much our house flooded - and this, a brand new home in an upmarket residential suburb!  We lived in a gated-community, with electronic key card to enter the complex.  You got used to the 24 hour armed guards patrolling the streets - and even then there were robberies and murders. Sometimes it felt like we had gone back to the medieval ages and were living in a moated enclosure.

We were the lucky ones, I was only car mugged twice. My kids were only stabbed once.  My son missed being shot in the stomach at close range just once.  We only had one or three or five (I lost count) break ins.   So no I don't miss SA one bit. Not at all.  Not the weather, not the culture (if you can call violence and disregard for the law a culture).

But I DO miss the people we have left behind and its unbearable sometimes not being able to give them a hug or speak to them face-to-face.  Skype is great but it cannot take the place of physical contact.  I miss my sons. Sometimes it's unbearable and I think that I'm losing contact with them.  But then we'll have a long skype chat and things are a little better, it's hard pressing the hang up button.    I am always hopeful that they will be able to visit us next year (I am being realistic with this wish, I know they won't make it during 2015) - the day that happens will be one of the happiest in my life.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Diving in ...

I am so impatient and that's the problem, anyway I've gone and done it. I've submitted my book proposal, with a sample chapter.  I did a lot of editing on it and I know it's still not right (will it ever be?) ... anyway, now it's out there getting rejected.    Oh well, gotta try somewhere.

One thing it's done though is free me up to start concentrating on other ideas that I have for, erm, real story stuff.  I have a lot of ideas, so hope I can come up with a bit of 'creative' writing in coming weeks.   I've moved my bedroom around and devoted a corner of it to my new 'office' ... slash .... 'book writing node' ... which was the advice of one Stephen King (can't argue with him now, can you?)  I'm pleased, I see something happening, the energies are buzzing about, summats afoot.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

I’m still cool, right?


When you reach a ‘certain age’ – let’s say 60 for argument’s sake  - you start to wonder about a lot of things – and not in a sense of the breathless ‘ooh my, golly gosh’ kind of wonder;  more like the dark suicidal kind of wonderings in the middle of the night, when everyone else is asleep.   Who am I?  How long will I live?  Is this all there is to my life?  Why don’t I have lots of money? Why can’t I retire, like so many other people my age? Why do I still want to listen to alternative music, wear black and refuse to put a blue rinse on my hair?  Should I have a headstone or get cremated? Will I take years to die? 
You know, happy kind of uplifting thoughts like that.

When you start to get into the ‘latter half’ of your allotted years on this planet, you start to see that you are actually mortal.  Whodathunkit?  You have an expiry date!   Some people in your immediate surroundings (won’t mention names) view you as an ‘old’ person – and I’m not talking about the under ten year olds here.    

You still believe that you have a handle on all the cool stuff, you know what’s potting.  But that’s it.  When you KNOW that you’re in with the cool shit, you aren’t.  

I hate getting old.  I almost had a heart attack when I turned 40 and wanted to kill myself.  I was depressed for months – I couldn’t see any good in getting old, I didn’t want to end up like all the old people I knew (who were in their Fifties at that point).  I didn’t have any forty-odd year old role models to live up to.  All the forty year olds I knew where old people already and trying to act like their parents.  I never wanted anything to do with being like my mum - for God's sake I discovered Jimi Hendrix and wanted to have his babies!   Now I realise with horror (and sometimes pride) that yeah, I’m actually turning into a somewhat out of focus, blurry copy of my mother.  Without all her annoying habits of course because we all know that I’m perfect. 

In the past few months I’ve had to come to terms with the following facts and they are all things that OLD people have to deal with on a daily basis:

  1.  My teeth will probably fall out in the next five years or so and I don’t have the money to get screw in ones, so will probably end up wearing falsies … oh god, kill me now. 
  2. My shoulder has developed a nasty condition called ‘rotator cuff with impingement’ and I believe the tendon/s is/are torn beyond any hope of fixing with draconian physiotherapy. I will have to get this surgically fixed and right now my doctor ain’t coming to the party. 
  3. I really think that I might be going deaf – either that, or the grandkids are getting pretty good at talking under their breath.  I can’t hear what people are saying in a crowded environment and hate going to school halls for kids concerts or things like that because I can’t hear a freaking word anyone says to me in the chair next to mine. 
  4. I worry all the time about getting breast cancer (like my mother did) but then I look on the bright side and think how awesome it would to get these two mothers chopped off – I’d be free of the 40E chest!   But knowing my luck, the surgeon would butcher just one boob and I’d be left with a mangled left breast and a full size right boob … how wonderful, that would be enough to make me jump in front of a train. 
  5. Driving is becoming irritating and sometimes downright painful because of point number 2. 
  6. I have hypertension, so am on blood pressure tablets which according to my sadistic doctor I will be on for the rest of my life. Why? My BP is back to normal.  I’ve repeatedly told the stupid quack that the only reason my BP is high is because of the continuous pain in my shoulder but he doesn’t listen, cos he’s a twat. There I said it.  (one of the perks of being old-er is you can insult people and get away with it because everyone assumes you have dementia or early onset alzheimers). 
  7. Because of the meds I take for the BP, I sometimes get swollen ankles and lower legs – so again I told the quack that I wasn’t going to be taking them thar tablets anymore, because of the swelling.  He just says, oh well the tablets are agreeing with you, your BP is down, so you will just have to get used to them.  That’s when I got up and attacked him with a pair of scissors (well, I day-dreamed that I had).  Anyway, I won this last battle and got him to give me BP meds that lower the BP but don’t make me swell up, duh. 
  8. I am as blind as a bat, actually I think fruit bats can see better than me.  The spanking new very expensive multi-focal glasses that I got from SpecSavers about six months ago are rubbish, the protective coating is coming off the lenses and the prescription is useless. 

I could go on but no, I won’t because OLD people go on about their ailments;  young, cool, hip people don’t ruminate for years about their osteo-arthritis.  

Hey, but I’m still listening to cool music.  If Rory McCann walked into our Post Office this week and started chatting to me, I'd probably ask him out on a date - I'm that bold (something I wasn't when I was 30!) .   I am learning new skills – just got my foot pedal and serious sound mixer from the company I’m going to be doing media transcription work for soon ... that is when I can figure out how to get through the 44 page transcription software manual that they sent me.

Holy Drafts ...

I wouldn’t have wished it on my worst enemy but I went and sent my draft manuscript to my bestest friend in the whole wide world of wonder and now I’m in a state of petrified terror.  I know it was crap. I hadn’t finished it, dammit.  I had no right sending out a draft … and to HIM.  Shit, it has major mistakes and so many holes in it – some of which I fixed AFTER I’d emailed it to him.  Oh geez, I can’t sleep now.   Why do I do this to myself?  Never mind that, why did I do it to my pal?  He must hate me so much. I bet he wishes he never heard of me. Sorry, dude.  Oh god I’m on tenterhooks so bad, can’t sleep (did I say that already).  Crap, hell and bugger it.