It's 2am again!

Okay I've started on my index and a few ideas of how to do this. I don't really want to put too much thought into it . . . just to tell a few stories. Obviously as in any person's life there's a mixture of sadness, pain, joy, tragedy, sex, humour, love and the odd bit of normality. I am neither ashamed nor proud of my past. I didn't plan my life this way . . . It is what it is. Where there is pain, I'm not looking for sympathy and where I've caused pain I'm not pleased with myself, again it's just the way it was and I'm not gonna lie. I will neither exaggerate  nor sugar coat, I just want to write about some of the events, places and people in my life so far. I'm not looking to lay blame anywhere nor to shock. I'm not making excuses or trying to justify the way I've sometimes behaved. I will simply tell it as it is. Or most of it. I have realised I will have to leave some bits out to protect the privacy of my family.

Right, enough of the present I need to go find my rake and see if I can get this carpet back on the floor . . . instead of it sitting on six inches of  family crap that's been swept under there for too long . . . I wouldn't be at all surprised if there's stuff under there that I know nothing about. Family stuff. My lot is all out, I've never been one for hiding dirt under rugs. Metaphorically or literally . . . Even if it's only me that knows it's there, like that screwed up bobble of foil that I threw behind the dolls' house . . . Eventually I had to get it out. Within days rather than years. Maybe I don't do it because I didn't like seeing it done over the years.  Or maybe because I just know there's no point.  Because out of sight is not really out of mind  . . .

Usually.

Except for Saturday lunch time when I was cooking a full English breakfast for Stropster after work. I hadn't noticed Hamper G had stayed upstairs and was being very quiet .  .  . Until I called her down for lunch.
"In a minute" she said. This went on until I was putting the plates on the table.
"C'mon Hamper, it's ready. Now!" I  shouted  . . .
Into the kitchen she came with a bath towel draped over her as if she was playing "ghostees" . . .
Except she wasn't. She made her way over to the kitchen drawer (by looking at the floor I suppose) and from under the towel out came her little hand sneaking a pen (?) back into the drawer. Was it a pen? Had she drawn all over herself? I saw light blue plastic. Light blue plastic . . . . Scissor handles!!  NO. No way.
I pulled the towel off her  . . .  I so didn't want to laugh but I couldn't help myself and neither could Stropster . . . Hamper G just joined in. It was bordering on hysteria. She had chopped her waist length hair off with craft scissors into tufts of roughly ear length!! I say roughly as some tufts were an inch "long" others were three inches "short".
What a mess. Once I'd stopped laughing I felt like crying but not much point in that. Spilt milk and all that.

So it was off to the hairdressers yesterday to see what they could do with it . . . A very short backed kind of angled bob with two wispy longer bits in front of her ears . . . and a bit of a fringe that Hamper had made. I  think the hairdresser just left the fringe as it was. I will post a photo tomorrow.

O No. Its half one . . . again. I best hang up my rake for another night.
Sweet dreams across the world.