"You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart. You’re heading for a breakdown, better pull yourself apart. " - John Cooper Clarke

I’ve moved.

Learning English Again

Well, I had to go somewhere.


When The Music’s Over…

You stop blogging.

I’ve thought about it and there are pros and cons. The pros being that I’m starting a new phase in my life with Hermie, although I don’t know where and there are bound to be some hiccups along the way which could be amusing, and the cons being that the Twat, though still fantastic at being a twat, and I are no longer together and the children are fleeing the nest, leaving me on my own.

So much as I like blogging and will stay around for sure, I think it’s time to stop. Just like that. Thank you to all my followers and those of you who have left comments – you have really made the past eight years worth blogging, and who knows, I may bump into you on another blog.

It’s been fun.


A Zoeism.

Zoe: “Do you subscribe to Private Eye?”
“Yes – well, it’s a gift from my parents.”
“You don’t seem too happy about it, Zoe.”
“Well, I don’t usually do VD, but it’s a nice present to give.”


Wonky needles.

After having treated my stomach like a pin cushion for the past 4 weeks, leaving it bruised and sore after the odd needle bent slightly after jabbing it into my finger first by mistake, I’m happy to say that I no longer have to go through that morning ritual as the cast is finally off.

My shopping date kindly drove me to the hospital yesterday and pushed me around in a wheelchair, bumping into just about everything in the process, as it’s so far to get to the bone doctor on crutches. I really appreciated that as I was going backwards and forwards to be re-xrayed and what have you. The scariest bit was having the cast sawn off, especially when the nurse made contact with my ankle, not that she cut through it, or anything.

My foot is still slightly broken but the doctor said that it should be alright and then suggested physiotherapy. No, not more money spent on a doctor who makes you do painful things that you really don’t want to do. So I simply asked the doctor if he could give me a few exercises that I could do at home – so he did. My ankle hurts more than ever now, and is just as swollen as it was in the first place – but I can walk, sort of, and I am so glad to see the back of those crutches. For the first time in what seems like forever, my hands don’t hurt from using the crutches and I can carry a cup of tea into the living room – albeit rather slowly.

I am liberally applying Shea butter to the area that was in plaster as the dead skin is falling off at a rather alarming rate. I’ll try exfoliating my leg again tonight until all the dead skin has gone, but I think it will be a while before the bruising goes. Little by little and slowly at first.

I think Hermie is the faster mover in this house – for the time-being.


Two down, one to go.

This year started off well: Coralie has moved out too, now. Well, she is 21, she does have a job and so it only made sense to find an apartment nearer town to move into with her boyfriend. She was rather crafty on choosing the date as for christmas she received gifts such as a television, crockery set, king size bed, sheets and much more. Her uncle is tired of his sofa suite so is going to give that to her as well. I let her take various bits and bobs from her bedroom here – chest of drawers, set of shelves, a coat rack and the bed I had made for her last year, a double duvet cover, king size mattress and pillows – mainly because I’ll have to get rid of most of that some time this year anyway. I’ll probably find myself with absolutely nothing in the end, but when I get a job I’ll be fine.

It’s strange seeing her empty bedroom, littered only by bags and the remains that Coralie has to sort out, and it stings when I find items of her clothing that were put for washing. Todd’s room is still a tip and I’m not going anywhere near it unless I have some sort of safety clothing on. I was once looking for something and found a sheet full of vomit under his bed. It was almost frozen so I put it back. His father has been told to bring Todd here to clear up his room, but so far, no luck.

Todd did drop by on 2 January to wish me a happy new year, but although polite, he hardly said anything and left after 5 minutes as Coralie was giving him a lift to his dad’s.

I can’t wait for this damn foot to heal so that I can visit Coralie’s new home. She showed me photos of it and it looks lovely – it even has a large balcony facing south on which they can put garden furniture and eat outside in the summer.

Children. They cause immense pain when they arrive on this planet and just as much when they leave the nest that we built for them.

I think I’ll put blocks of cement around Tatiana’s feet.


Having a shower.

Having a shower 4

Some people, whose name I won’t mention, are so demanding. Here’s your christmas card, Vicus.


If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

So I was taken to A&E.....

(Photo taken by Coralie who isn’t used to my camera, hence the blurring.)

Coralie kindly drove me to A&E yesterday and even waited with me. I was seen to pretty quickly and the xrays proved that ….. I’ve broken my foot somewhere just below my little toe which is why I am now in plaster for the first time in my life. I have to go back next week to see the foot doctor and see if I can have a plastic support for my foot which will make me far more mobile than I am now. I’m supposed to be lying down but I simply don’t have the patience to spend all day on my back unless otherwise occupied and have become quite good at going upstairs on my bum, and coming downstairs upright with the aid of a crutch and the banister.

This morning, after giving myself my anti-blood clot injection, I managed to have a sit-down shower with my legs dangling over the side of the bath – one of which was completely wrapped in a plastic bag. I’m so used to being independent that I get annoyed at the things that I can’t do – like carry a cup of tea into the living room, cook, go down to the cellar, etc. Hopefully, I’ll be more mobile next week, and the pain will have subsided somewhat.

I really must thank Coralie for her amazing patience in the hospital, on the way home when she stopped off at a pharmacy to get my crutches and even bringing me lunch before she shot off like a bat out of hell with her boyfriend. That was when I realised how much I needed a cup of tea as I was parched. I finally made one and put it into one of those cup flasks and slowly moved it along into the living room by poking it with a crutch. I’d just got to the sofa when it fell over and the top opened, spilling half the contents on the floor.

Disaster. I went back to get a mop before managing to sit down to drink the remains of the tea.

How I broke my foot is beyond me – I must have hit it against a stair – so I am much more careful now. I think I defy gravity as falling UP the stairs is quite an achievement.

Most people fall down them.


And so that was christmas.


The last christmas to be spent in this house was a quiet one. The week previous to it, I managed to fall up the stairs and sprain my ankle quite badly and so I spent the week hobbling around on a rather bruised foot. Come christmas day and I was knocking back painkillers like smarties, not that they helped much. Coralie stayed until the afternoon so we had a drink and something to nibble on before she left. We exchanged gifts, and quite frankly, Coralie is doing quite well for herself.

Tatiana and I then watched a couple of episodes of Desperate Housewives, a present from the girls, before Tatiana embarked on cooking the evening meal of lamb. I managed to prepare the entrée seeing as I could do it seated at the kitchen table, and we both both enjoyed the meal despite the fact that Tatiana almost burnt the spuds. We watched more TV before going to bed after what seemed to be a short day with very little company. Heavens knows where I’ll be next year, but it can’t get worse than this years’.

My dad had sent me a SAD lamp for christmas but due to the weather it hadn’t yet arrived – I could have done with a blast of light. Still, it was the first white christmas that I can remember – ever, although Tatiana had to push Coralie’s car as it was stuck deep in the snow. Even now, the roads are pretty bad, but thankfully, people appear to be driving very carefully, apart from Little Miss Giggles (Coralie) who drove over a pedestrian crossing today that had five people on it. Fortunately, they were no where near the car.

“Oooops,” she said, “I didn’t see them.”

I should have bought the girl glasses for driving – she misses sign-posts too.


Todd, sorted.

It wasn’t what I wanted, to be honest, but Todd has decided to live with his dad and PHT full-time. This doesn’t really mean that much as he only spends the weekends there and his dad is going slightly mental about the forthcoming holidays as Todd doesn’t want to come here at all. I feel sad but slightly relieved about Todd’s decision as the house is lovely and quiet without him slamming doors, playing ghastly music very loudly (parents aren’t supposed to like their children’s taste in music), shouting at his sisters and me, etc. On the other hand, I feel as though I have failed him as a mother, but hopefully, he’ll want to live here again for a bit before I have to move.

We’ve had our fair share of snow, amounting to about 10cms last Saturday until it started raining during the night and washed it all away. I haven’t seen so much of the white stuff fall in years and I really needed to get out last week so I did. During a snow blizzard. Dragging my granny trolley back from the shop was a bit of a nightmare and I ended up with a fucked back. I really should invest in some good gloves, too, as Tatiana lost my thick woollen ones last year.

Coralie has looked at her first apartment but apparently it was too expensive. At €700 per month, heating only included, I’m inclined to agree – especially as there was only one bedroom. And people wonder why I don’t want to rent – talk about throwing your money away. With whatever I get from the sale of this house – and I’m really hoping it will be slightly more than €100k as any less and I will end up living in the city and I have never lived in a city – I like trees and bees and things.

SAD hit me very early on this year and it’s getting worse so I am thinking of buying a SAD light. They look rather expensive so I will have to wait until I get a job which defeats the entire purpose of buying one as I’ll be old Miss Doom and Gloom in the corner of the office. These jobs are simply throwing themselves at me hard and fast – I can’t keep up. The temping job that I did last month had me sticking needles in my eyes as it was two solid days of listening to somebody talk into a dictaphone and then type up whatever he or she was saying. Fortunately we were fast and rather than stick it out for 4 days, we got it done in 2. Less money, but I felt less suicidal at the end, as well.

I also have an interview on Friday, although all the interviews I’ve been to so far have been far from fruitful, so no fingers need be crossed. If I get it, I get it.

Right, time for a cuppa and start emptying a cupboard.


Inevitable, really…. (NSFW)


Piece by Piece.

Little by little I see the slight movements of Coralie making her move out of the house. She agreed to pay a small contribution towards the house without any fuss once she started her job. Now she has a car of which I am proud that she bought as the three other children in the road were given theirs’ – Coralie worked for hers’ which makes me feel proud of her.

She says that she’ll be moving out next year, even though her boyfriend won’t yet be working. I think his parents will be helping out with the rent, but even so, my ancient two leather sofas and arm chair were going to the skip next week as I have bought a really cheap, excellently-made three-piece suite second-hand. I’ve had to have it re-covered, but it will be delivered next week and guess who wants my living room suite? Anything I replace or empty, such as wardrobes, are quickly snatched up by Coralie which she can have on the condition that she finds a storing place for them all. At least the wardrobes were IKEA flatpacks and should therefore be no problem.

Watching this slow transition of my daughter working her way up the ladder and into the land of grown-ups is sad but satisfying. I feel that I have brought her up well which is not something that I can say about Todd. He has got worse again and I am terrified when left alone with him. His insults have had me in tears on several occasions, and even though they are only words, they are a harsh comparison to the moments when he is sweetness and light. I am dreading the months when Tatiana goes to Madrid as I really can’t take much more.

I’ve got to the point where I’ve accepted a short (please let it only be two days) temping job in a lawyers office, typing from a dictaphone, something I really hate.

But it’ll be work, albeit for a short time.


I’m all shook up.

I don’t think that my body particularly likes my left fuck-you finger very much. Some of you may remember my close escape from death last year when I managed to end up being taken to hospital by ambulance with all sirens blaring after slightly cutting the top of said finger. All I needed was a tetanus shot. Those Croix Rouge people get really bored during expos, but the ride was fun.

Last night, my mate Tony down-the-road invited me for supper and while he was cooking I managed to knock the same finger on the opposite side of the joint (the palm side of the hand) and woke up this morning with a purple finger. It doesn’t really hurt, but is just slightly swollen and very purple.

Fair enough, I do bruise very easily and am forever finding bruises on my body but I do think that this finger is having more than it’s fair share of bruising.

I wonder where I’ll next find a bruise.


The Weepies – and a video.

By That’s the Way Life Is.


Oh Todd.

Last week he claimed that he couldn’t return to his boarding school on the Sunday evening as there was to be a train strike the following day.


His father drives him down to Wavre every Sunday so what’s that got to do with a train strike?

The bleeding obvious: the boy didn’t want to go to school. Seeing as he isn’t doing too well in a couple of subjects, it was the ideal chance to be with those teachers as the kids who do not board at the school won’t be there hence more attention paid to one slacker.

However, it turned out that he was sick all Monday and returned by bus that evening looking like shit. I gave him some soup and a painkiller for his head and sent him straight to bed. Todd looked pretty awful in the morning too, so I told him to rest so that he could return on the Wednesday morning.

This turned out to make me look the fool as Todd hugged and thanked me for looking after him the night before on the Tuesday morning when he eventually got up. I told him that I had to look for a job on the World Wide Web to which he wished me luck. Except that as soon as I sat down in my study did I hear the door slam – Todd had left the building, and boy, can that rascal run.

He eventually returned in the early evening, around 7pm, only to tell me that he had been to the post office for future jobs and also to a friend’s house to re-charge his expensive GSM.

That boy was definitely sick, but not in the right places.

Todd asked me to set my GSM to go off at 5.15am the next morning so that he’d arrive at school on time. My GSM went off an hour late – still giving Todd plenty of time to get to Wavre and to arrive at school on time. His GSM appears not to have an alarm clock, despite the price Todd paid for it, and so he left in a hurry spurting out abuse about everything to anything, including not having written a note for his school – which I did ask him the night before should he need one.

Will anybody take him off my hands – please.



That’s what happens when three other people in the house have coughs and colds. I’m on the way to losing my voice.

They’ll be delighted.