The truth, The whole truth & almost nothing but the truth.

Another hangover from my strict Godly upbringing is I don't like lies. I can't lie and can usually see straight through other people's lies. On the few occasions that it's seemed like a good idea to lie, I have tried and failed. Blushing, blithering, tripping myself up,waiting to be struck by lightning. I just can't do it. Also I see no need to lie. I am honest and open about my drug use to all of my family, doctors, social workers, police . . .  anyone who wants to know really. I also know from experience that the truth has a way of outing sooner or later, so there's no point in lying.
Having said that  . . . just occasionally a "harmless little white lie" offers itself up as an option. Example.
A couple of weeks ago Geekster had taken the day off school. Ok, I had allowed  Geekster to have the day off. I wasn't well, had missed the alarm and justified it with him being ahead of his year. The school send me a text to say he hasn't registered and please could I call or reply by text to explain his absence. Ok yes later . . . when I've thought up something to say (a lie?). Meantime I'm trying, for the second day, to get £10 back that I had lent to someone . Although he is a "user" he works and is reliable (ish) so I had kept it polite but I really did need it before the evening. I thought if I start the day (10am) sounding desperate it should be sorted by early evening. I wrote the text , "Please bring that tenna round ASAP as I'm not well and could proper do with a bag to sort it". I was (still am) ill with a chest infection, but I implied I was rattling (withdrawing) and that the tenna could mend it all . Yes that should work, a bit of guilt, Ok . . . . Send . . . hold on?? Why didn't it ask me which number to send it to??!!??   Why???  Because it was still on reply mode from earlier . . . reply to who?? . . The school!!!!! Shit Damn Fuck Wank Help Bugger Bollox Rewind Cancel?!?! NO too late  . . . message sent. O God NO!! thats too harsh. Thats not fair. To have been caught out by the person I'd lied to would've surley been enough? No. Not enough. I didn't even bother texting the school with another "white lie" as to why Geekster was absent . . . They will have made their own minds up on that one. That'll teach me . . .

Not by the hair(s) of my chinny chin chin . . .

Are these a sign of the times? Are we finally getting the equality we longed for?  Have we spent so much time encouraging men to "get in touch" with their feminine side that we are losing touch with ours, or is it just something in the water?
A few years back, to my absolute horror at the time, a couple of rogue whiskers appeared either side of my chin..Contrary to all advice not to pluck these invaders lest they multiply I had the tweezers at the ready the second one surfaced. Sometimes even before they surfaced, leaving holes where I'd excavated them. To me a hole was preferable to a whisker. They did indeed multiply and now there is, or would be if I didn't pluck them every day, a small patch (of maybe10) either side of my chin . The strange thing is I am not alone . . .  My sister Juju, a few friends (one as young as 27) and countless strangers that I've scrutinised also have these whiskers. We expect women  in their 70's and 80's to have them . . .  but we seem to be getting them younger. Has anyone else noticed this? C'mon Girls own up.

I'm not going to leave this as a draft to be edited in the morning otherwise I will delete it. So I will post it now, warts, whiskers n all :-) Sorry Juju for "outing" yours too :-) thats Sistery Solidarity.

Gledwood has pups!! . . .




Hamper G + 22 Roborovskis

 

The latest arrival


For those of you who don't know, I have anything between 20 and 30 Roborovski hamsters at any one time. A long story that began roughly a year ago when I bought two "male" Roborovskis. Reginald & Anchovy. Yes two males. It's these little swines who originally drew me to Gledwood's blog as in "Hamsters and Heroin". When I discovered it was specifically Roborovskis that he loved, well I was hooked. Meantime Anchovy & Reginald had pups and try as I might to keep the whole thing under control, there were accidents!
Fast forward a year . . . having kept most of the pups from most of the accidents, I had  (until Sunday) 17  Robos left. Each one an individual character. Each one with his/her own story. Some that live happily together in pairs, some in threes. One cage has four. Others have had to be separated and live alone.
I have eight cages of these beautiful little "people". Having had no pups appear for a few months I thought I'd finally mastered  the somewhat hit & miss "art" of sexing them. Until Sunday night when I heard the unmistakeable tweeting of babies. Checked the suspect cages. Nothing. Followed with my ear. Laddio & Gledwood's  cage . .  Ahhhhhh They are so cute.
*Gledwood was orphaned at four weeks (a story involving next door's cat) . After showing definite "male" behaviour towards his cousins Bianca and Lily, although he was sexed as a female I thought it best to judge him on his behaviour and see if Laddio would adopt him as a younger "male" friend.
Laddio is one of the "Old boys" from the first surprise litter. He had been living alone for some time after "bullying" other males of similar size. As Gledwood was still a young lad I hoped Laddio might accept him and he did . . . (well of course he did ;-) Little did I know. Until . . .
So here we are five pups of very varying sizes. Possibly four to five days old. One of Geeksters friends has been waiting for two. That leaves us three . . .  Hamper G  has already named them, regardless of gender,
Billy. Herbert & Stromboli. .
She has learnt at a young age that gender means nothing with these lads :-)
As soon as Geekster is home from school I will borrow his phone to take and post some  photos. Having said that I wonder if I could use the webcam to show one??? This could be fun.

* (The Gledwood did give me permission to name one after him)

YAY!!! Success . . .Ok we have the technology! Now I will try to get a better shot!! with some kinda size comparison. He is the biggest of the five. Not too clear with the webcam. Will swap these later when I can get some close ups.
Top photo  "The Whole Shkaboodle + Hamper G"

Too ill to . . .

Ok let's not get confused. This is my attempt at change and diary of progress or not. Not a fair-weather blog. I held off writing today as I'm too ill to be positive. Tough. I worked all day Saturday. Worked myself into a frenzy again. I won't write a long list of  "jobs done"  but at 9.00pm I was vacuuming the ceilings!!  hmmmm.  Sunday I hoped I might rest in cleaner surroundings . . .  I had forgotten Geekster was due back from France with four loads of washing and I had promised to cook a huge "Christmas dinner style" roast to celebrate. I didn't rest. Monday was prison visit for Hamper G to see her Dad. That's another story.  I woke up this morning feeling worse than a week ago.  O dear. I know what I should do. My head is banging and is way too hot. I am struggling to think. I need to feel better. I have to feel better. I just want to go to bed.

Now that's what I call . . . Dancing!!

Had a taste of  the "Mania" side effect earlier (Thursday evening). In fact I'm still coming down which is why I find myself, once again, awake at nearly  past 4 am!!  This can't be good for physical recovery can it? I thought sleep was one of  the best forms of recovery known. I do from time to time get a little natural mania but not enough to bother me. In fact quite the opposite. I just take advantage and do some usually well overdue cleaning. But this was way beyond that. It just kept on escalating and I was getting a tad concerned where it might all end. Plus it was accompanied by palpitations and a general increase in heart rate. I did my best to ignore this, as I know from past experiences with speed/coke etc that paying it too much attention  is not a good idea.
So as I was simultaneously putting washing in washer/drying in dryer/food in the oven/weekly shopping in the cupboards and getting very animated about nothing . . . I found myself singing an old song. Well truthfully Stropster found me singing it and asked what it was. I told him. We found it on you tube. We listened to it and danced. We played air trombones, saxophones, trumpets, pianos. We sang and laughed. It went well with the mania. It felt good. I can see why you good folk out there who have experienced the free high that is "mania" want some more of it. I have to try and sleep but I will  post this up first. Dancing . . . da de da da da Dancing!!

Ok it has to be . . . Dr Chawala you are the best!! Thankyou.

Ok so I was right. It is an infection. There were no appointments available so I had to go to an emergency "sit & wait" thingamy at the end of normal surgery . . . which turned out to be a blessing. One of the receptionists said "when your name comes up on the light board, just go to  Dr. Trawlers room, middle corridor 2nd door on left"  For once I absorbed the directions, quite a rarity in itself for me. Usually after being given directions to whereever, I find I haven't taken in one word of it. What I will have taken in will be strange little details about the persons appearance. Not intentionally. It just happens. Anyhow when my name came up, I found the door, noticed it didn't have Dr Trawler on the name-plate, obviously doubted my memory of directions and started checking all the other doors. No Trawler. Returned to the original door for a second glance Dr. Chawala. OK. I get it. What a pleasant surprise. A very thorough Doctor. He'd obviously skimmed through at least my lung history. He knew which consultant I saw, which meds I was on, what needed checking and what needed asking. This might not sound such a great deal as most of the information is on the computer screen in front of him and he is, after all, a Doctor. But compared to other doctors I've seen, sometimes for the fifth or sixth visit, when they still don't seem to remember anything other than the fact that you're a heroin addict, he was an absolute joy, God bless him. He immediately prescribed steroids (eight for breakfast) with the penicillin, instead of waiting a week to see if  penicillin alone would work. He was aware I have three children to tend to, needed some strength & probably wouldn't be getting much rest. He even asked me to double the amount of steroid inhaler that I usually take and do extra breathing excercises. That's a first from any Doctor. He was adamant that I get straight back to him if things worsened before Friday & that I return when I had finished the course of Penicillin, even if I felt well. He also neither judged or lectured me. Well I'm impressed. No really, credit where it's due. Bravo Dr Trawler Dr Koala I mean Dr Chawala!! So that was Tuesday. I already feel better in someways. Tomorrow (today) I'm going to get my Nicorette nicotine replacement patches, chewing gums, lozengers & pretendy ciggy things out of the cupboard & try, try, try again to stop this habit. Who knows, maybe I'm this ill for a reason. There's no maybe about it. One "maybe" has occurred to me during this steroid-induced insomnia . . . Maybe he asked the staff to pronounce it Trawler, rather than them getting it almost right with the wrong emphasis. i.e. Dr. Cha wala which can mean literally, at its best, tea maker or  "Tea boy" , at its worst . . . "Retard ". Maybe not. Maybe I'm thinking too much. I should be asleep. The alarm is set for 7am. Why can't I be this awake at 7am and vice-versa? I must at least try to sleep. Shit its gone half 2!! I'm gone. O almost  . . . Barbara has just joined! Welcome  Barbara  :-) now I'm gone.

Ooooo errr  I just decided to quickly look up the possible short term side effects of these particular corticosteroids (instead of going to sleep) They are . . . Insomnia ,Euphoria, Mania, Phycosis (not necessarily in that order :-)) and on the negative side Depression, Weight gain & Black stool!! O Joy. I'm real gone now.

and . . . indecisiveness! No, really?

PS. Thursday afternoon
I  just had to go and confirm this Cha Waller thing, as much for myself as for anyone else wondering . . . And sure enough  as soon as I typed it in I found an example

In addition to my old shipmate’s stories (Dick Imrie and Ray Self) I too remember that eight days leave in Darjeeling. I recall how we travelled through the night by train from Calcutta with every halt along the way punctuated with the cry of the Cha Waller, hot, strong and sweet tea served up in the earthenware dishes smashed after use and costing two annas, and  . . . .  blah, blah, blah

The last thing I needed

I slept this afternoon.(monday) My Mother had taken Hamper G, so I could rest.I dreamed it was snowing. I also dreamed that the hamsters had somehow got themselves  into one cage and I was trying to work out who was who & which cages they should be in. I woke up in a panic drenched in a cold sweat. . . I had a high temperature . . . I have a chest infection. This is exactly what I didn't want or need. I'm gonna continue this "diary", even though there will be no progress until I'm better. That could be days, weeks or months, depending on the strength/effect of the antibiotics I'm given tomorrow, the amount of physiotherapy I do
and whether they prescribe steroids at my first appointment tomorrow or wait until I can barely breath.
Having said there will be no progress, one time I had a chest infection I lost almost a stone in weight so who knows?
Every time I try to think for a minute I start to dream and come round to find a row of a few hundred "w"'s or "b"'s  that need deleting.  I can't concentrate on anything and it's taken me four hours to write this short update. I don't want to be this ill. I really can't think so I'm going to bed.

Leonard Cohen

Shit! Bollox! Fuck! more shit! . . . and then a Prison Visiting Order!

I can't even get it together to write a  list. I need to feel better. My cold is worse than ever. My chest is getting worryingly heavy & tight. Today is the only day I might have got a lie in . . . Hamper G woke me at 7.30am.  I even went to bed properly at 11pm (and stayed there) last night in an attempt to feel better today. Part of me wants to up my methadone again to 40mg/ml to see if that puts me back on an even keel, then get my flu jab and reduce again. I'm reluctant to do this, as I've only taken two small steps forward & don't really want to take one step backwards. O I don't know. I know I'm sick to death of feeling crap. This is not me. As I said, at the start of this blog, the cold that initiated this "wanting to change" was my first cold in over a year. I can't start from down here. It almost feels like "something" doesn't want me to change, why doesn't that surprise me? I'm sorry if all this makes for boring, bemoaning posts but I can only write what is. I feel like fucking crying . . and that's unlike me too. Hamper G already has her in-line skates on, wanting to go out, wanting food, wanting , wanting . . . . O God help me.

Geekster is in France, so that's one less. Stropster stayed away yesterday after coming in from work at lunch-time (half day on Saturday) to no hot water, no usual Saturday lunch-time fry up, no cup of tea waiting and to top it all a blocked loo so he couldn't have the shit that he'd been "holding in" all morning at work. O dear. He punched a hole in the bathroom door, pretty much the only door that was intact in this house, called me a few names and went to his Dad's. Mothers are not allowed to be ill!? What did I think I was doing not going to the shop to get gas for hot water & food?  "I bet you've sat there all morning on that fucking laptop?" . .   "you're not ill . . you're fucking lazy!" . .  and so on . . and so on. I couldn't be arsed telling him I'd spent all morning getting things ready for Geeksters trip to France, why should I explain myself to him? I'm his mother, not his employee. The toilet is still blocked , I have blisters from trying to unblock it (council bloke stylee with a mop, a mop that is kept for this purpose alone) for over an hour. It is a long ongoing story for another day. I have given up . . . Hamper G and I are using a baby's potty, which is all the same to her. I wont elaborate on how it is for me. Then I have to "bag up the bob"  doggy stylee & put it in the bin   . . . Give me strrrrrength. Then, just when I don't need it . . . we get a prison visiting order!!

Hamper G's Dad got moved back to a higher security prison 6 months ago. Prisoners usually go the other way. They might await sentencing in a Category A prison, begin their sentence in a Cat B (depending on the type/seriousness of the crime) and hopefully move to a Cat C or eventually even D (open prison) throughout their sentence. This, of course, all depends on their behaviour, attitude to fellow inmates and screws & results of drug testing! Need I say more?
Until the move six months ago we had been going to see him every month. In the new prison you need photographic ID. I hadn't got any . . Six months later I receive my National ID card, E-mail him to tell him & promptly (yesterday ) receive a VO with a letter saying how excited he is to see us both, I will have to go this week. I can't say I've got cold . . I can't make it. How lame would that sound? Can u imagine . . . I can.

I have to get ready and go out. No, I don't want to, every muscle in my body is aching, along with my head and my ear . . I have taken 35ml/mg of methadone. Its only 10ml more than usual. I've gotta try something . I know what I would like to try . . . but I will resist. Things can only get better. That's just asking for trouble!
Just as I wrote that, I received a text from Stropster . . . Sorry about yesterday, sorry I didn't text last night to say where I was, sorry I didn't come back to say goodbye to "Geekster" . . . and . . .  Any chance of that fry up???  Wait till I tell him he has to use a potty!! :-) Here we go. Back later. Love sent out to anyone reading this "Sunday morning moan" x

I need a day off.

I'm gonna make a start on my list of things to do & to undo before the big five "O" to keep myself focused on the bigger picture. I've been so tired since my last post . . . I dragged myself through thursday. I did most of the things I needed to do, apart from The list & the mammoth hamster cleanout. I am now 6 phone calls nearer to opening a bank account for Stropster to have his wages paid into. You wouldn't believe how difficult they make it. I suddenly remembered Geekster is off to France for a week this evening so I need to prepare for that today. I dragged myself through friday too. I got quite a lot done because I have to but it was all an effort. It still is. I have to force myself to do anything. Whether this is due to my methadone reduction or this cold not being over, or both, I don't know. I just hope and expect it to be settled down by wednesday. That way I can get my flu jab, stop worrying about getting flu, and do my next 5mg/ml reduction.  I think once I get down to 20mg/ml I will have to reduce by 1mg/ml doses rather than 5. Its always the last few milligrams/millilitres that are the hardest to stop. Methadone is very addictive, some say more so than heroin. I don't know. I know once I'm off methadone Its no problem staying off. How many people come out of prison having detoxed from methadone & gear, then go hunting down a nice fat bottle of green gloop?
Stropster said I look thinner yesterday, that was music to my ears. I don't have any scales but I can check next friday at the chemist. So there has been some progress with methadone & weight. I now have to decide which other areas need dealing with. Its 5 am. This is usually my best thinking time. I will write a list on paper, prioritise it, then post it.
One thing occurred to me after my half hour session with my "drugs worker" on thursday . . . If I had been a fly on the wall and someone had said to me afterwards "Ok fly what do you think all that was about?" I would 've said "I aint gotta clue. Other than one woman asking another how things were with various aspects of her children's lives, plans for Christmas, etc. and handing her a blue sheet of paper, I really dont know." . .Hmmmmm. Neither do I.

Something about nothing . . .

I didn't miss the alarm.The final time I woke up at 6.15am I decided, sensible mother that I am, it was too risky to go back to sleep. It doesn't even feel like a new day . . . more like a groggy extension of yesterday. Partly because the gear I got last night was the cleanest & strongest I've had in a year so as well as "sitting up" all night either gouching, trying to finish the bag or catching up on some blogs, I also found a fair sized beetle on the foil this morning. This just doesn't happen. Not since the drought. I must say I did enjoy a little morning smoke. Because it was a treat. Because I didn't need it. Yes just you remember that. Behind me are the days of smoking a bag before I could get to the kitchen for a coffee. I'm gonna be tired all day now. Fool!
Tired or not I gotta go & see my drugs "worker" this safto for encouragement & inspiration :-), write my "other areas"  (awaiting improvement) list, continue swiping the whole Christmas thing into the overfilled "cupboard under the stairs" part of my brain, clean out "my" 17 roborovski hamsters, dog-sit the "Nudster", & keep on top of the every day stuff. Oooops nodded off there. My cold has almost gone. Thats good innit? I imagine if I'd gone to bed at 11pm I might have been proper buzzing today. O well. I must away . . . rack my brains for details of the "Paolo la voce" tale & work my way through the day, accompanied in my head by Bob Dylan's "you're gonna make me lonesome when you go".
Triggered off by the words "you're gonna make me give myself a good talking to" :-) Love that line. Ok gotta go.

Only a fool

Oooo  me heads a mess. The tangle of wet rope that  replaced my brain yesterday feels more like gravel now. I have to keep reminding myself that I've at least reduced my methadone by 20ml/mg a day. As there has been no progress in any other areas. I know its only been a week but weeks add up to months . . . Soon I'll need to make a list of these "other areas", The fact that I haven't already done it speaks volumes. Right, tomorrow morning I'll do it. Its 2.04 am. I fell asleep there for a while in the armchair & woke very suddenly with a magnum craving. Had a magnum. I expect that's another area where there has been no progress. That "area" being somewhere between what used to be my waist and what used to be by knobbly knees. Hey ho.
There's an Italian film on in the background. I love the Italian language. I once totally ruined a female friend's entire week's holiday on the Camargue with me (or without me as it turned out) by falling for an Italian, or more specifically falling for an Italian voice. Some fucking friend I was eh? Anyway more of that in the morning.  I'm getting into my bed before I fall asleep here. I only popped in to post the tune that was in my head. Only a fool indeed. Goodnight All .

. . .  Shit just woke up in armchair again. Face flat onto the chair in front of me that my laptop's on. My glasses embedded in my face. Ouch. Bed. Fool.

. . . 4.50am . . yes still in the armchair. Bed. I can see me missing the alarm in 2 hrs. 2 hrs!?!

To fellow bloggers

Ok a few of you may, or may not have noticed that I have just signed up as a follower of your blog. The obvious reason for this is that having started my own blog a week ago, I would like you to "follow" me . . . and of course you are more than welcome. :-)
But the main reason is, although until  now I have only officially "followed" Gledwood (mostly due to lack of time) I  have often visited & commented on blogs from his bloglist & others and have found myself "following" ie; reading every post of a few. These didn't  show on my list of "blogs I follow" unless I signed up . . . I want them to show as I have brought a few readers here who are new to the blog world. This way, if they fancy reading more, there are some suggestions of blogs that I read. Thats  all folks!

A snippet of life.

Ok whats to tell then? a right snotty head, sore throat and cold sweats thats what. Seems a bit rough when   it was only last thursday  I started feeling better. Spose at least the banging head as gone. But its left me woolly headed. The only good thing about having a cold is my fags taste better. Before these two colds I cant recall the last one I had. Gear stops you getting these minor ailments . . .  Just another trick  . . .

Well that was  me last night . . . woke up in the armchair at 3am with a dent in my forehead from the table edge. I feel even worse today I can only put this dowm to reducing my methadone. Over a week I've reduced from 50ml/mg (see I do listen GW) to 30ml/mg. Thought I best start somewhere. It has made a diiference with pupil size, emotions,  irritabilty & general "awakeness/awareness" but I hadn't bargained for semi-permanent colds.  Have just cancelled my flu jab for this afternoon. Not a good idea until I feel ok. I get a flu jab as I have lung disease, emphysema. Yes, the gear  might protect us from the minor ailments but like I said  . . . . thats just a trick.

The second time I woke up it was 7.32!!!! (I set the alarm for 7)  Shit! Bollox! Panic!. Woke boys up, Stropster almost got gobby then remembered THE ultimatum  (its worked so far), made him T & cig  . . . took them up to him, packed his "half a" lunch!,  Ironed Geeksters uniform after eventually finding it screwed up in his school bag as  he came home in PE kit. Thats the "Geekster" all brains, no common sense. Made his breakfast,  found his football kit. . . . made a mental note, yet again, to retrain these boys , or retrain myself. On my fifth trip upstairs to get Stropsters rizlas as he had oily work boots on, I was crawling. Bearing in mind this is all before 8am .Came downstairs, did my inhalers & prayed that this cold doesn't go to my chest . . . O please no.

Ok so gonna post later. I gotta get ready & face the weekly shop . . . Its the last thing I feel like doing., I badly need a hair wash . . .  its not the washing I mind, but I cant face brushing it through first. Its very long & very tangled.

I hope this snippet of life hasn't bored any readers . . . hello Russia, if you're still reading . . . hello anyone  if you're still reading. I just wanted to record this for future reference. Ok I have to get ready. Love sent out to all. I hope that dent in my head  smooths over before Asda. I look & feel like I've been hit with a spade.

Coming back to life . . . . the recovery of some feelings & a few earthly treasures

Beautiful sounds, lyrics & visuals. The sound on this laptop is pretty weak. Geekster (middle son 12) says there is not a way to plug in through my good but old technics system. I tend to trust him when it comes to all things techno or geeky. Most of my old "sounds" are on vinyl. Most of them, like me, have spent too many nights lying around on floorboards, drunkenly discarded & mistaken for ashtrays, when one tune has led to another and so on. So lots of fireworks in the background. Some say it adds to the authenticity. Geekster says burn "copy" cd's of them all from the internet . . .Stropster (16) says burn them, full stop. 

Every time I've moved on with my life, or gone on four year "holidays" I've always left everything behind . . None of that split this, share that, saw it down the middle, sell it & split the cash shit., Have the lot. A hangover from my anti-materialistic up-bringing .  .  . store up your treasures in heaven (soul?) not on earth . . etc. :-) Everything except a small bear, Floppy ears that I've kept since I was 3, a few bits of jewellery, some photos & most importantly my vinyl records.

I came back to  England in '88, after 6 years in France, for one week's holiday. Three years later I realised I'd left my earthly treasures behind in France. Oh bugger. I took advantage of a free camping holiday  to Port Grimaud (S.France) that  young Lochinvar's mother had won in some magazine competition. Obviously to her it really was all about the taking part & not the winning :-)  That was as close as I was ever gonna get to my treasures without paying . . .  .It only meant spending the week's holiday  hitch-hiking from Port Grimaud to a remote village in the Alps, negotiating with my not too happy ex & his even less happy partner. "Yes of course he could keep Fil Colleeens, Zuh poLeece ,Zee rollen Stons" and any others he had bought. I only wanted the ones I had originally brought with me  from England, and my guitar, and my teddy, and come to think of it that mandolin hanging on the wall ? .  . .Ok maybe not. Then hitching back in the sweltering July sun, along the Cote D'Azur, walking for hours in between reluctant lifts, carrying this lot (I left the mandolin!) Shit man, one Donovan album can weigh 2lbs!!. Abandoning a lift at the entrance to St. Tropez to walk through past  hundreds of grid locked cars to the other side. Bonkers. Stark raving bledy bonkers. Arriving back at the camp-site with 4 hours spare to  neck a few lagers & a warm bottle of cheap red wine that had sat in the tent all week, nice.  Then the hideously stifling coach ride back to England. Which I spent slowly savouring the playlists on the back of the albums, smiling, singing in my head, knowing it had been well worth it. The neighbours knew when I had got back. Twas Bliss. At least I came back.

ps. Just to apologize for editing after posting . . .Just in case anyone has read this . . . .then noticed it change.

Who I am kidding :-)

I'll explain why later . . .

Just a quickie . . .

I have to find a solution to this  . . . I feel so inspired during the day. To the point of jotting down scribbled notes about this n that. Why I might be this way . . . . lots of stuff about changes, that could be, should be, might be, never will be, hopefully will be, made . . . and other observations made through the day. Through a  very long, 7am till 9pm, day. So when I do get time after 9, if I'm lucky, 10 or even 11 if not. I'm so frazzled & bedazzled , I  can hardly decipher the notes, let alone remember what they led to and feel the enthusiasm felt earlier on. Partly due to my daughter, who I will refer to as Hamper G ( as started @ The G&W GW*)still being at home. Yes Hamper G should have started school this September. Thanks to greedy fools building too many new houses . .with no thought to amenities  . .there are no places left in our **"catchment" school.
So after looking forward for the last year, or four,  to the end of being a 24/7 mother . . . yes I know I had the children blah di blah . . . but more on that another day. I'm now faced with a few more terms?, years? who knows how long? of fulltime mummying . . what a thought. I never had (pre-kids) maternal feelings & dint yearn for them. I love them, of course, not to bits -I hate it when people say that- but I do love them a bit :-).  I did worry, once upon a time, that I might not . . anyway another day, another story, or four.
So where was I, O yeah no time during the day . . . too tired & stoned at night. Hmmmm.
I will find a way round this because I'm enjoying the "being forced to think" thing & looking forward to changes, which as I noted last night, have already begun.
Just one more thing . .I sounded like Columbo when I said that. As much as I loved Latin & French at school  & still love foreign languages now. I couldn't see why we had to study English . .as far as I was concerned we knew English. Now I see can see some of the why. (that's such a good example of why-that I aint gonna change it)

*See the hamster in my box of  (2) followers :-)  thats for anyone who has not come here from GW site. Thanks for the link Gledwood, dont we just love him?  There are some readers who have come from elsewhere . . not sure where, but I'm gratefully receiving any readers from anywhere :-)

** NB. Rabbit ears! ie " these things" inverted commas. I use them a lot . . too much. I dont "do" them with my fingers when I talk . .God forbid . . It's one of my pet hates. Along with loving people, animals etc to bits. there are a few . . another day. Its nearly 12!! I gotta go. Thanks for reading :-)

A battered silver bangle

Anyway sat here a bit frazzled . . . everyone else has finally gone to sleep . . . No one is watching "The only way is Essex"  but its on . . I aint seen it before .  The girls r having a slumber party (boy it looks fun) & asking each other what's the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for them . . .which got me thinking . . One of them, a silver  bracelet I am still wearing 19 years later. From a beautiful, wild, impulsive, welsh boy who was ten years younger than me at the time . . .I knew he was gay (despite his constant denial) but I also knew we would be together for a while . .  . . .For us to live together at the time meant him finding some work here. His skills were sailing & boat building  . not much of that around where I was based at the time . . .so he took what was going . .a job in a dry cleaners with four middle aged women who knew everything about everyone in the town . . .what they dint overhear or get told, they worked out from the stains & odours on the customers clothes/sheets/cushion covers etc. Perish the thought. Poor lad. He was so out of his comfort zone in shirt.tie & a pair of too short polyester trousers we had managed to find in a second hand shop the day before, so he could start the job.First week's wages in poly pocket, with no thought of whether we needed any of the money for rent, food etc, he went straight to the jewellers on his way home and chose this bracelet. . .how sweet.
Four crazy, eventful,years later (when my desires for a "manly" man (see twat) got the better of me) I finally dragged him out of the closet . .we split, not painlessly but amicably, and he went to be with a lad he had fancied since he was eight!!. . they are still happily married! and he's still sailing. Ahh aint that nice?

A twinkle in the eye?

As usual , things that happen., however shit they seem at the time, nearly always prove to be for a good reason . . . a week on I am real glad I felt yuk & down for those few days last week, when this idea was born. Its propa given me food for thought . . and even a slight spring in my step! like having a new lover or baby . . I hope the novelty buzz lasts longer though :-) Its already cut my smoking down, as the only time I can sit & sit and type out these thoughts  is at night. If I smoke my usual amount (of gear) I've found I can't  think or type much .Could it be this simple? No, obviously not , but its one good thing ..A couple of people have remarked on me looking/seeming better, happier since last wednesday. That my eyes seem more open ?!! My mum (78)  asked me . . "Have you got someone on the go?!"   And shes not asked that once in my 5 celibate years. So something must be different . . some new kind of twinkle in my eye? .Or just the usual glint that goes with the full moon.

Feelings . .

Yey, pretty good day (friday . .as I fell asleep before I posted . . .again) in a normal kind of way . . .supermarket for the main weekly shop.Chemist for weekly methadone. Picked up brother's dog for the weekend & came home to cook a proper Spaghetti bolognaise. Started to feel excited at about 4 ish . .Happy excited. No idea what I was excited about. I put some music on as I was cooking which I aint done for years (music on - not cooking :-)). This writing "milarky" is making me look more, notice more & question more . .? Such as,why has heroin  ruined my relationship with music, both listening & playing? Pre-H there was a constant soundtrack to my life, day & night. I love music, lyrics & singing. I need to get this back. Maybe it was the music exciting me earlier, Good. So why was I in such a rush to dampen it? I gotta work out why I do this. And I will.
Part of it could be that I can't trust my emotions when I start to withdraw. I dont mean longterm withdrawals. Just when my methadone/gear levels are low for whatever reason. Couple of years back, one of the many times I was unscripted, & waiting, rattling . . .I got a sudden crush on David Dickinson!?!. .is that his name?  That mahoghany antique fella . . .scary eh? sick? O I was sick alright! No wonder I nip my "feelings" in the bud. I have had some major disasters where men are concerned. Dysfunctional would be an understatement.But David Dickinson?? I still cringe when he appears on tv. Ok I was asleep there. I need to find some time during the day to write. Im way too tired. I'm gone

Obsessive Compulsive Sock Disorder

Managed 0 to 60 over a few hours and by 7pm had worked myself into a laughing, shouting, multitasking, multimooded frenzy . All or nothing. Everything had to be done. Madness. Obsessing over, among other things, an odd sock. When it comes to my obsessing,  an odd sock is a fine target. . .  none of the "other things"  mattered. Ok I did specifically want that pair (long fluffy bed socks for daughter) but it got ridiculous, any other socks would have done by then (8pm ish so was peaking frenzy-wise) . ."I know they were both on that table the other day so it can't have gone far . .can it? It cant have left the house can it? No. So that only means searching the  house? and then what . .the garden? surely not . . ?   Yeah but I could've dropped it outside on the way in from the dryer in the shed. Ok, so go look then. Its pitch black & raining so it wont be much use tonight  if you do find it out there . .but go on. Far be it from me to stop you now. So I do go, all the time having an "out loud" conversation with myself, I suppose, about how there was no point looking out there and how I was wasting my time. But the "me" who I was trying to tell just kept on looking and would not listen.Racing back in through the kitchen, eyes scanning everywhere, I saw a vinyl bag full of fluffy teddy/dolls clothes .  . . ".No it wouldn't have got stuffed in there when I was tidying earlier . . .No way . You're not seriously gonna empty that lot out and go through it are you? Oi? Are you?  It wont be in there, why would it?" and it wasn't. Utterly pointless. "Ok so I'll just forget the fluffy bedsock, it doesn't matter , I need to stop now anyway. My head is spinning with it all." My mind was running ragged,jagged with the sock, bath, towels, jarnies, sock? toy rat*, talc, window shut, drink, blah blah sock?  The Coronation Street theme tune in the background was having a sort of "pavlov's dog" effect on me.Salivating for a mouth full of bitter sweet smoke. Meaning rapid de-celaration was within  necessary reach. . . . .In fact I feel so far removed from that jaggedness now that its hard to even remember the extent of it & feel how urgent it felt to stop it . . . next time I gonna write before I "slow down".  So tonight*  it wasn't so much a reward as a mere calmant . . . .All is calm.  I've totally given up on the sock. I dont care if its lying out there in the rain.
 (*who has his head poked behind my glasses, singing something to the tune of jingle bells as I try, the following morning, to make this readable)
(*last night, as dint post till this morn . . .was too "calm" last night)

Good start?

Ok so not feeling quite so "unwell" today. Slight sick feeling  . .empty chocolate box. Well there were only 16. Only? Thats a whole other issue that needs to be dealt with . . .weight. Even the word looks foreign to me. I have never had any  . . .well basically anything to do with weight. Didn't even weigh myself until about a year ago. Roughly when "the drought" started . .The heroin drought. I could blame any number of things for this sudden 2 stone (!!) weight gain . . . .but that wont shift it will it? sitting on my (ever spreading) arse thinking of reasons why I might have gained 2 stone . .I could gain another one before I know it. God forbid. "It" has to go. I dont subscribe to this middle age spread shit either . . .I am not having it . .not a sodding ounce of it. I'm not sure yet how I'm, gonna get rid of it . . but I am .. .So thats on the list.
Heaps to do today  . . .I dont really want to deal with any of it. I want to go back to bed and close my eyes on it all, I know I cant. The worrying thing is that I'm already "bribing" myself into work. In the back of my scheming mind I am thinking . .If  I were to spring into action, grab the bull by the horns, and catch up on the unbelievable amount of washing, cleaning etc thats piled up while I had a few poorly days . . .then surely at the end of it all I would deserve a "reward". Yes I know I have to change what I see as a reward . . .but thats easy said. Do you know what one of my drugs "workers" suggested once as an alternative reward . . .A Manicure??? A fucking Manicure . . .And not even going for one . .a DIY jobby. Is that not just more work? Do I look like "nice" nails would make me feel rewarded?  C'mon . . .any suggestion has to be better than that.
Ok I'm at least gonna go and earn something by doing some work. Starting by cleaning a thin brown line (no not that sort) off the carpet, where my brothers bledy dog (who I have got for the day) has just shuffled along wiping his arse!!  O Lord yesterday started bad enough. I aint exactly house proud & even let him on my "nest" to sleep . .but dog shit?? thats just one of "those" gagging smells. I suppose it will get a cloth and cleaning stuff in my hands . . and who knows what that might lead to.

Bad start . . .Good sign

Yeah well today was never gonna be a good day to start . .not been too well for a few days now, which has meant my slaving on  16 yr old son has not been up to standard . . .and hit rock bottom this morning when, after getting up at 7am to get his pack up ready, I  realised we were "out" of cereal bars and pasta salad pots & left what amounted to half a pack up on the table . . .& it was all downhill from there really, down a very steep fast hill, at the bottom of which was an ultimatum . .Learn to control your tongue & temper or move out. After 30 years of relationships with men I decided 4 years ago (just after my youngest was born) enough was enough . . .the bad was outweighing the good. Usually due to there being heroin between us, fooling us it was bonding us closer together while it ripped us apart. Anyhow having got used to this plain sailing, I suddenly find myself living with another male"kidult" who seems to think since he has left school & started work . . .that he is  "the man" of the house. And although he came in from work remorseful  with a box of chocs . . .I get the feeling that battle is not yet over . . .wearying thought.
So after stopping the tears & emotions with twice my usual amount of gear and justifying it with all the turmoil I decided to try & play around with some blog options. I chose one of my favourite paintings as a header which originally went right across the page . .It wasn't how I wanted it but I was pretty impressed it had even appeared there so wasn't about to mess with it . . . Then wrote a "brief description" to go across the header.This was all a bit trial & error  and the next time I viewed the blog the painting had shrunk and the description had been fitted in to it. This wont do . . . or will it? As i sat wondering whether I could be bothered finding out where to go to change it . . .I noticed the sun was right behind the "50" !! This I took as a good sign . .a vey good sign. I could not have planned it and thats how I like it. I dare say if I hadn't just numbed all my feelings I would be feeling hopeful, what a shame. Foolish girl.

Gotta start somewhere . . .

I dont know where to start . .with this blog . .with my life . . I hope writing about this will help me. If it helps anyone else thats a bonus. If anyone reads this its a bonus!! I'm gonna write as though it is a private diary. If I start thinking "what if mum reads it? what if  . . .reads it?" there will be no point me writing any of it. I need to be honest with myself. I have no idea about  how to start a blog . .making it look good. . .putting other stuff on it . .etc . . but i'm sure I can learn as I go along. Anyhow thats irrelevant . .I'm 16 months away from being 50!? surely not . .surely so. Not that I think 50 is special or different . .but it feels like a realistic kind of time scale to put some changes in place. Maybe? maybe not? If I look back to 16 months ago that feels like long enough. . .I suppose it depends on how much work I'm prepared to do . . how much motivation . .encouragement . . suffering . .sacrifice . .hmmmm,.
So what are these changes.Where to start? Where do I want to be at 50? or How do I want to be, nevermind where. I feel a list coming on  . . .I do love a list. Especially if I'm confident about getting everything ticked off the list . . In this case Im not. I've heard it all before. Well maybe not to this extent but similar . . .I may have heard myself think it all a million times, and sometimes even say it but I haven't written it before. Why I think that might make any difference I've no idea but I have to think something will.
Something has to. I cant go on defending this "life" saying all is well . . .all is not well. I am an addict . . .a heroin addict . . .and I feel stuck.
I am also a mother of  three children. I'm a reasonably well "functioning" addict in that I dont have a criminal record . .I have a methadone script in place so I dont have to get "ill" while I wait hour after hour . . .I have reduced myself to one bag a day (of an evening) which all helps me really to justify this life wrecking  substance & behaviour. This is probably the biggest change I need to make . . .but there are more.
I suppose if I stop the gear, other changes will happen because of that. I'm not usually this down or serious, maybe I need to be to realise how wrong this is? I dont know. I know I dont want to be sat here in 16 months saying the same things . . .and I suppose thats all I need to know for now. Or is it?