Saturday, September 19, 2009

Deb Ball 2009

It's much easier being the mother of a partner than being the mother of a debutante! No dramas about what to wear (that was easy); no dramas about shoes and how hard they are to walk in (black leather dress shoes); no makeup or false nails; no jewellry (except the ss man bracelet his partner gave him); no trial runs with hair colour, upstyles, downstyles (although he could have done with a trim!) and no hissy fits about anything. Just turn up at the rehearsals, have fun learning to dance, then leave again.

Here he is on the page with his two biggest fans - his mother and his grandmother. It was a really happy night and everyone enjoyed the occasion. He was once a page boy, 7 or 8 years ago now; he looovved it then and I remember him saying to me at the time - "I hope someone asks me to be their partner when I'm older". I hoped so too, for his sake. As it turned out we needn't have worried - he was asked several times.

Goodbye Sal

We lost Sally, our border collie, on July 12. She was an ageing, sweet and gentle soul who went about her business quietly and softly. She dearly loved the camels when they were here; after they left she turned her attention to the chooks. She loved nothing more than coming on the rounds with us each morning as we fed and watered up; she would track and stalk anyone who might have been out of their pen and she found a new lease of life when little one, Coco, came to stay. She would play and jump and run around.
She died from pancreatitis. She spent 5 days at the vet, slowly going downhill. We went to visit her and finally made the difficult decision to have her put down. It was very hard. I went and picked her up and brought her home; Gibbo dug another hole next to Tilly and Clarabelle and we buried her there.
We've lost three precious dogs in 12 months, not a very nice statistic to quote.

I'm Back

After a rather lengthy absence I've returned to myself. The Reader's Digest Oxford Complete Wordfinder describes "absence" as being "the state of being away from a place or person" and that pretty well decribes how I've been feeling; and the person I've been away from is myself.

It happens every now and again; I withdraw totally into myself and feel very forlorn and alone although not lonely. I don't want to see, talk or interact with anyone and it's all I can do to drag myself around. This patch has lasted 6-8 weeks; I feel it coming on and dread it, knowing what I'm in for. I can also tell when I'm coming out of it but it's no joyous feeling. This has gone on for years and I've learned to manage it and mostly, to hide it. On the surface, all is well; below the surface, all is turbulent (I have never, ever been a smooth calm sea, I have always - been a storm; Fleetwood Mac).

So I'm back and hopefully posting more regularly. I suspect that continuing to write on the blog during my dark days would actually help me but I have no interest in doing it then. Everything is too much effort. I took a week off work to try to break the rhythm; it helped a little.