its that word again

It was such a lovely day today (and I was feeling guilty about enjoying myself on a Bank Holiday) that I went over to mum's to spend the afternoon with her. I had suggested I take her out somewhere but having had a lukewarm response to the Whitby trip (she had to walk too far, it wore her out), I decided to take our comfy picnic chairs along in case I could persuade her to sit with me in the garden. (She says she won't sit out by herself, its too lonely.) I didn't check the chairs, all folded up in their carrying bags, before setting off.

At mum's, the sitting in the garden option was mooted and accepted. I took the first chair out of it's bag. One of the legs was snapped in two. I packed it away again. I took the second chair out of it's bag. In large inky letters on one of the armrests was written 'FUCK OFF, THIS IS MY CHAIR'. Needless to say, that chair was 'broken' too and went straight back in it's bag.

So far, no-one has owned up.

what I should be doing..

... is my husband's books. (Are mh'sb?)

What I am doing is ... flipping between mh'sb and Ravelry (depending on where Mr Lily is at any given time) - setting up my own site (lilyhasanothergo). Its still a work in progress but it will save the non-knitters among you having to wade through my humble efforts on here. Say thank you, Lily. You're welcome.

and grrrrrrrr.........

Last night, after returning from the pub considerably later than I, Mr Lily asked me where the boxed new phone under the coffee table had come from. I started telling him the story of mum's amplified phone but three sentences in, he dialled a number on his mobile and started having a conversation with his friend, telling me to "go on" at the same time! "Fuck you!" says I ( most unusual for me) and went to bed in the spare room.

Dog got me up at 6 this morning so I made a cup of tea and continued working on Mr Lily's cardigan. I spent an hour sewing the button band to the side seam before I realised my mistake and had to start again. Now its ten to ten and I'm sitting here in my dressing gown with wet hair trying to motivate myself to get ready to go to mum's. I hate Saturdays.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

After chewy Tuesday, mum's on Thursday was surprisingly easy going. I should have known. She phoned me at work at tea-time today, wanting me to go over and wash her hair. I think it was just an excuse to get me to go round and keep her company. I politely declined - I always spend Fridays with my husband and friends. I offered to wash it for her tomorrow morning. She was angry and put the phone down on me. Now I have this lump of lead behind my ribs leaking anxiety; I baled out of the pub early, I just wasn't in the right frame of mind to socialise.

I will have been on Prozac a year in July. I hope my doctor doesn't decide to take me off it, I seem to remember a 12 month treatment period being mentioned at the beginning.

sigh

Difficult night at mum's. Played the sponge to her vinegar drip. Absorbed the thinly veiled accusations aimed at heartless daughter, replaced the new amplified phone I bought with her old, inefficient one (because she doesn't like change), stayed until 9.30pm until her mood had lightened enough for me to leave. I constantly find myself disabled by her misery and unreasonableness, the silent witness to her complaints. I have no cure for her loneliness and the burden of being responsible for her own home. At least, no cure that either of us could contemplate. Shattered. Going to bed now.

I'm a brunette again

cluck cluck

good day, good day.

Yesterday went well. The gardeners were already at mum's when I got there at 9:45 - three strapping young men toiling away in the sunshine. Then the telephone demonstration lady arrived - success, mum could hear me talking in a normalish voice when I phoned her on my mobile from the next room - on the old phone I had to shout and repeat myself and she would still miss lots. I went off to Argos and bought her the recommended model; I think with a bit of practice and reminding her to press the + volume button, it should be ok. I also bought her new batteries for her doorbell which had fallen silent. Then, the cherry on the cake, I took her to Whitby. All the way there she was being pessimistic about the dull, cloudy weather although she did seem to enjoy the views of the Cleveland Hills, Roseberry Topping and the plentiful yellow gorse on the moors road. Then, just as we crested the last hill, there was Whitby and the sea below us, bathed in sunshine! We had fish and chips in a prize winning restaurant, had a mooch up one of the old streets, checking out the jet jewellery shops and sat in the really warm sunshine in the old market place, mum enjoying a Tia Maria and watching the doves bobbing and pecking around the tables. It was like being on holiday abroad! I think I earned some brownie points. We'll see.

Today I sat knitting in the sunshine at one of the picnic tables at work at lunchtime. It was very relaxing, listening to the breeze rustle through the leaves on the redwoods, chestnuts, birch and sycamore and watching the mallard ducks dozing and mooching about on the grass. No squirrels today though. (Yes, I know, needles on redwoods. Feh.)