How art thou neglected by me! Although in online seminar the other day, I protected your honour, blog, by pretending not to hear when someone asked me for your url. Never, blog!
No nay never.
The last week or so has been crammed with:
teg (the nightmare continues)
The reindeer (has now pushed off at last)
my friend's Dad's funeral (and now AM's Grandmother (at age of 104) has died.
talking to a property solicitor whose office was beside a tattoo parlour about houses, convenient if you want to tattoo your mortgage formula to your forehead
receiving my inheritance (before the demise of my father)
adjusting to such (excitement and a strange kind of disengagement. Why do I work?)
arranging a cake for my cousin's 40th birthday in London
minding nephew, Spike. (so sweet: he opened the drawer where a hundred variously grotty and ancient stuffed toys slumber and exclaimed: WOW! Now he says Hello, and Nenny, (which is any quadruped) and kisses pictures of animals in books and apparently, religious statues).
thinking about projects (class one for Digi hub and storyboard, and final project. Interviewing father in law at Christmas, and neighbours of JB)
having horrible inter-uterine war in my uterus, or that's what it felt like
eating sticky toffee pud my mother made
eating tiffin bars and drinking coffee which normally is a no-go area for me being interpreted by my body as pure cocaine
lying down not enough and sleeping not enough
and going to yoga in this new place called the Yoga Room I like
wearing knee high socks - technically these are over the knee on the normal folks
not going to life drawing (but will next time)
escaping from A Coogan's talk for tutorial
eating Avoca scones which Spike's mum gave me and parcelling them up to fit in the tiny freezer.
thinking about memory and mortality and children
and trying to work out Flash actionscript for which my mind was not designed
going to the ecoshop and buying bin bags
and getting my Ma a present for her birthday on November
and trying to think of something/anything my brother might like for his
and wondering why it is so many people I know were born in November
and being cut off by that friend who I wrote about before, and not really minding at all
and helping AM with her site and being glad it's nearly done
and writing everything I need to do on my file NB so I won't forget
and going to the Botanic Gardens with A and enjoying the warm steam in the jungle house.
and seeing L's pup, now called Taz, who is so small and yet so full of character and thinking when we have a garden..
and hoping the JB isn't worried about getting a permanent job
watching H and Away which is my vice - they are in the bush after helicopter crash. How long can they last out there?
reading The Ladder of Years, by Anne Tyler, good, but not much course work
wishing we could go and stay in a lovely hotel for a night, or four
and not house-keeping
and listening a lot to people lecturing me
and other stuff, which has inevitably burst out of my over-stuffed little mind like horsehair out of an old fashioned couch.