It’s been an interesting past few weeks, to say the least.  You know what it’s like when there is so much to say, but you have no idea where to start. Yeah, that’s where I am at the moment! J Let me start where I left of, I guess that’s the most logical thing to do.

The band, I love it. They are such a great bunch of guys, I get to write all the lyrics and vocal melodies, we all contribute to the songs, have our say and its pretty democratic – which makes a wonderful difference to the monarchical dictatorship of the first band. I mean really, the only reason the last band was formed (not the chick one, that was just silly of me – I mean really, a bunch of 19 year old girls, what in the name of anything and everything holy was I thinking?!? I guess I wasn’t *sigh* sometimes that just happens!  But I digress) was so that the guitarist could get on stage and show everyone the size of his pecker through his solo’s. He even admits it. Yeah – real class.

The guys in the band are all younger than me, but hell getting into a band now, at the age of 26 (almost 27, take note people, 30^th of November!)   Unless I want to do bad Boney M covers or Credence Clearwater revival tunes they will all be younger than me.

The boys are big on their joking, but when it’s time to practice, we get on with it. It’s the same with the song writing. It’s brilliant J

So that’s one area covered, moving on to the next ~ My great Aunty Enid. The woman was always as nutty as squirrel turd. No really – she was J She never worked a day in her life, and while I can see some people thinking that there is nothing batty about it, the thought of my life being spent on bad soap operas and cheap brandy – well, it doesn’t really appeal. She once worked for three hours decided she didn’t like it and went home on her lunch hour. Heh – odd bat that one, her dad was the mayor of a town here called Springs (loooong ago) she was spoilt and pampered and always slightly loopy, you know the sort, didn’t like school so she would jump out one of the class windows and try to follow the railway track home... which was about 60km’s away.

She lived alone for a long time. She only married at 40 (weird for those days) her parents I think finally found someone to marry her off too. She never spoke about Gilbert, in fact all I know is his name. We could never get her to talk about him. Maybe she loved him too much and it hurt that he had died; maybe he was just another part of her life she had moved on from, who knows. Enid was the bane of my existence for 2 years. She was about 88/89 and lived alone in the flat I now occupy, I worked on the same road that she lived on and her Alzheimer’s had started to kick in. Her flat was filthy, to the point that we would have to trick her out of the house for a full day to sneak the maid in to clean, she would have mood swings, she wouldn’t shop for herself anymore because the walk to the mall was too far or she would think she had gone and that she had a stocked fridge and freezer. I would visit her 3 times a week – sneak food into her house, make sure she was taking her medication, and not over medicating herself, checking she had her brandy for the soap operas (two tots a day she would tell us – one with each soapie, only I’m sure she watched the re-runs the next morning and probably had another two then as well! Hehe) On days I would get to her flat and there would be no answer at the door, no answer on the phone, and then the panic would settle in – I would think “OH MY GOD, SHE IS LYING IN A HEAP, DEAD – BROKEN HIP!!!” or I would think she had walked up to the mall, and I would run there as fast as I could, go screaming round the pick n pay, bottle store and post office asking random people (who probably thought I was mad) if they had seen a shrivelled up old lady, with white hair and Alzheimer’s – all the while phoning the flat nonstop, getting more and more panicked every minute, until eventually the old cow would answer the phone, tell me she heard me and she didn’t want to see me because I was stealing her cutlery. She would then proceed to hang up on me. Hehe.

Just before we went to Bali about 4 years ago (I think it was) she had a fall on one of the days she did actually walk up to the shops (brandy was a big motivator to leave the house, well the lack of it was) and she broke her collar bone and dislocated her shoulder. We all breathed a sigh of relief because it meant we could finally move her into a frail care unit where she would get the attention she needed. She disagreed, not for long though – there were ups and downs, she locked herself into the nursing station and called the police to tell them she had been kidnapped, she had a punch up with the poor lady who was sharing a room with her, but eventually she settled down, and she was pretty happy. Even got herself a boyfriend. He also had Alzheimer’s so it was pretty much love at first sight at least 4 times a day. Her mind rapidly started deteriorating after that, we would go to visit, and the only person who she would always recognise was my mom, the rest of us were on and off – sometimes my sister and I got chased out because she never met her before and now that she was dying we wanted her money – or so she thought, other times she was over the moon to see us. I guess that’s Alzheimer’s for you. Well the crazy lady died about 3 weeks ago. My mom was with her, and it’s not in a hospital, they wouldn’t take her because my mom wasn’t there at the time they came in to sign papers stating they would get paid. It was a shock when it happened, not unexpected for sure, but because we thought she would outlive all of us, even if it was just to mess with our heads – it was her way of having fun. I went through to be with my mom, because being in a depressing room with a dead body on your own, is no one’s idea of a good afternoon, my aunt and uncle came through as soon as they could, but they lived far away. I have never been that close to a dead person, it’s weird, they are almost waxy looking, and she was so tiny and frail. Well the undertaker came, and when he got there my mom was on the phone and I had to frisk the body for any personal effects, you know, jewellery and the like before they would take her – now that was weird. It’s a good thing she is gone, just from the point of view that she was in pain, she was not there mentally and she lived a life of complete paranoia and upset, no one should have to end like that.

I do keep waiting to wake up in the middle of the night with her ghost hovering over my bed and her wagging a finger at me and saying “I told you, you just wanted my flat!!” Ah she was a special one.

That aside it’s been work. A lot of work, loads of gym, loads of band practices, and occasionally going out and causing chaos. We leave for Mexico on the 19^th so it’s pretty much in one week, and I can’t wait!! I promise to let you know all about that, and will even try to take pictures, but I’m not promising anything!

Lots of love to ya

Me

xx