Closed for business

back August.

Just need some time to rest and relax 🙂

Mother hen coming home to roost

Thanks to everyone who sent messages and made comments in my blog. It means a lot to know there are people who are reading and who feel compelled to respond. It’s nice to know my blog entries compel some people to respond.

I hopped back on the treadmill yesterday. It’s been a week since I ran and I made the mistake of not stretching afterwards and also taking up Glen’s offer to massage my calves. So, yesterday after I ran, Glen massaged my legs and I stretched and it was good. So, I treadmilled tonight and although I couldn’t manage much running, I did walk a total of 30 minutes, so it’s nothing to be scoffed at.

There’s been a bit of a time lapse in starting this entry. I was interrupted by a phone call from my mother.

A bit of background here. Mum has been developing some health problems which have been severely affecting her life. She has been diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis and something associated with it called Sjogran’s Disease – I think. Anyway, she’s feeling down and it’s becoming harder for her to do things

Glen and I have been talking about this idea for a while and I guess I’ve always known that being the only child, there might come a time when I might need to take care of mum. Afterall, I am the only child and there is no Mr Sam’s Dad. I mean, there is – I am not the product of an immaculate conception and my father is out there somewhere, but I have lost track of him and I dare say, he could give a shit about me. So, I kinda always knew that mum and I would stick together until the end.

So, about two weeks ago, I pitched the idea to Glen who was completely supportive. I pitched it to a friend who also thought it was a good idea and then spoke to our pseudo financial advisor, who said it was a terrific idea.

I pitched the idea of mum selling her home (which she is already doing) and moving down here (which she is already doing) and moving in with us – so to speak. Not literally moving in with us, but the big picture plan is that she will sell her house in BFN, give us the money so that we can buy another place that has big enough land so that we can subdivide and build a townhouse at the back of the house. The townhouse would be mum’s home and we would live semi-separate lives. The benefits for us would be that we would rent out our current property and it would be negatively geared (a concept that I am yet to really get my head around) and that when mum might pass on, we would have the subdivided property that was sellable. We would sell both properties and move to a single house block again. However, we would have earned a nice portfolio of property etc and Mum would benefit from a lot more amenities, being close to us and vice versa and having access to all services, people and opportunities. My intentions were spurned from concern for mum and wanting to be closer to her, not increasing my property portfolio – in case you wondered.

I’ve lived with the fear of losing those I love. I lost a lot of family and friends as a child and I was particularly scarred from the loss of my grandmother and then of my only sister, so you can imagine that I have serious separation anxiety issues. Ask Glen. Maybe he’ll blog about it, who knows.

You know what her response was to this seemingly ‘to good to be true’ offer?

She got shitty and told me that wasn’t going to happen. She thanked me but was emphatic. I was hurt, but I let it drop.

Glen told me to let her think about it and let the topic go for a while. In the meantime, I spoke to my good friend Di, who suggested I write to mum and explain my case. Talk about the positives and the compelling evidence or wahtever. I agreed and had planned to do it. I knew Di was right because my mother can’t go one minute whilst I am pitching an idea without flapping her gums! So, that was the plan.

Skip ahead to tonight when she called and one of the first things she said was, “I’m starting to think you are right about moving there, so alright”. It was more or less a defeated resignation of her next move to a city. She hates cities, she compares Melbourne to Sydney and she hates Sydney. She grew up there and loathed it. But let’s face it, Melbourne is not Sydney and everyone loves Melbourne, don’t they?! 😉 hehe

Anyway, it’s a start and I’ll work on mum to realise that she isn’t giving in to the inevitability of moving into a city area. I know she’ll enjoy it and she will find that it’s more suburbia than a city and she will realise that it’s more interesting to her.

So, that’s my news and I have to say, it’s taken me a little while to realise she has said yes, but at the same time, it’s a bitter sweet occasion because she’s not entirely happy about it.

So, maybe I should still write that letter to her? Explain to her that having family nearby is important. Having your mother nearby when you have kids is important. Having your only parent and close relative nearby is good, right?

Right.

I need to pee.

Run Forest Run!

I took delivery of a u-beaut treadmill last week. Did I tell you?

It was purchased from what I thought, was a relatively reliable ebay seller in Australia. In fact, in Melbourne. I thought it would be a done deal once I finally won one of the sought-after suckers! I used my tax money, or part there of.  It seriously took over a month from when I won the item, to when the blasted thing arrived. I was unimpressed, and duly left neutral feedback, because I just couldn’t be bothered leaving negative feedback and dealing with the verbal exchange which would inevitably follow.

Anyway, I digress.

This ebay seller sells many treadmills at different speed levels, capacities and sizes. I, of course, picked the biggest, fastest and most gadgety one available. It told me I could run on it. It told me that it was rated for 200kg – well, well above my current lardness. And no, I am not sharing my current lardness in digit representation.

So, I walked on it last week. I walked and I hurt my legs.

Side note: I have Muscle Compartment Syndrome. It restricts blood flow to the muscles and it feels like my legs are burning. I’m talking serious burning, which then also affects my feet – my left foot went to sleep last week whilst I was walking. I pushed through the pins and needles and everytime I took a step, I looked like Steady Eddy with a gawky limp. Seriously, my left foot was shaking, girating and flapping everytime it wasn’t in use, so to speak.

I haven’t used my treadmill since that fateful night. Revelation, I know. Surprising, not really. I give up easily. I does that good.

Tonight, I went through my weights regime. I did sit ups. Shock horror! I hopped on the treadmill and before I could give it much thought, I pumped up the speed until I was forced to run, well a half arsed jog, at best. But it was running, nonetheless and as I was dying running, I felt good about myself. I felt proud. I decided to jog for one minute, walk for another, and so on and so forth. I did this for 10 minutes and I was suitably stuffed at the end of it.

I’m going to lose weight using the treadmill this way. I just know it. For, as I sit here, I feel my legs slowly dying and declared to Glen, not more than two minutes ago, that if he required me to get out of this chair, he would need to assist me, for I have become decrepid and incapacitated.

But I ran. (Yes, Flock of Seagulls, eat your heart out!) I ran!

Hiatus…

Life’s a bit up in the air right now. I haven’t felt much like blogging. I just can’t force myself, so I am not going to.

I’m sure I’ll start blogging again at some point. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’m really not sure. I may even get my shit together and merge this blog and my other blog. Suffice to say, I’ll be back, just check back every now and again. Hopefully, I’ll stop feeling like I’m in a funk, like I’m in a haze or cloud and maybe I won’t feel so left-behind.

Mostly, everything is ok. Don’t be too alarmed. Just can’t be bothered too much. Everything is fine. Glen and I are perfectly fine. Life is just a bit blah, it’s changing too much and part of it depresses me.

Stay tuned.

Hiatus…

Life’s a bit up in the air right now. I haven’t felt much like blogging. I just can’t force myself, so I am not going to.

I’m sure I’ll start blogging again at some point. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’m really not sure. I may even get my shit together and merge this blog and my other blog. Suffice to say, I’ll be back, just check back every now and again. Hopefully, I’ll stop feeling like I’m in a funk, like I’m in a haze or cloud and maybe I won’t feel so left-behind.

Mostly, everything is ok. Don’t be too alarmed. Just can’t be bothered too much. Everything is fine. Glen and I are perfectly fine. Life is just a bit blah, it’s changing too much and part of it depresses me.

Stay tuned.

Inaugural posting

Just a little howdy hi and welcome if you are reading this. Of course, there’ll be protected entries, but it won’t always be the case 🙂

Drop me a comment and let me know you are reading.

Should I stay or should I go…

…If I go there will be trouble
An if I stay it will be double
So come on and let me know …

I am dilemmarising. I want a blog that offers password protection and so far, my enquiries with blogger have not given me the response I want. I have opened an account with a rival blogging party, but I am torn by the fact that it is both slow to use, and a hassle to move my blog, yet again.

So, please inform me people. What shoudl I do? I really want to write some private posts, where only certain people can read. I know that some people might be offended when I don’t give them the password, but I need to be myself and I need to be open and honest in my own way.

So yeh, please give me advice. If I do move, it’ll be a work in progress and it might mean having two blogs open at once whilst I get my shit together.

The end of an era

Scooter for Sale
Originally uploaded by Sams76.

Today was a pretty sad day for me. I took a sizable deposit for the purchase of my beloved scooter. The new owner was pretty in love with it, so I feel ok about letting it go home with her in a few days. You might scoff to hear me say ‘beloved’, as I’ve spent the last few months cursing the bloody thing. It’s starting to show its age and doesn’t get me out of those tight situations like I want it to. Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s hauling my lard arse around constantly. Noooo!

Anyway, it’s all good. I’ll have to resign myself to the fact that I’ll be spending at least the next three months schlepping it with the rest of the commuting population and catching the stinky train. Might I add that the primary reason I bought the scooter back in 2004 was because I was sick of the trains, so I am certain that I’ll save ultra fast for a new one!

It’s pretty sad for me. The scoot represented a certain degree of freedom and confidence that I hadn’t had in years. I highly recommend the experience to anyone whose self worth and confidence are at rock bottom, or close to. It’s very liberating to pull on the throttle and hurtle along at break-neck speeds, with the breeze in your face and your tongue lolling around like a drug-induced Labrador in the back of the family car! You get about so much quicker than the rest of the commuting population and you pay an offensive small amount of money in fuel each week. It’s just sweet.

You do have to put up with morons on the road who believe you don’t deserve an entire lane to yourself, or that you aren’t travelling fast enough. And then there are the fools who like to tailgate and intimidate smaller scoots, such as mine. Which is exactly why I’m getting a kickass 400cc after Christmas. No one will mess with this biker chick!

The upside to train travel – not many, but the fact that you get to catch up on some good book reading, which I haven’t done in God knows when. And, listening to your Ipod with real headphones! Amazing concept. I won’t have to worry about changing out of stinky bike gear, messing up my perfectly coifed hair or sweltering under the helmet, jacket and gloves every summer! And mostly, I won’t have to bitch and moan about my numb or sore arse. Yes readers, you get a terribly numb bum from riding my scooter. Admittedly, it was not built for long distance commuting, but that metal bar under the rider’s seat is a real bitch. Highly unrecommended!

And most of all, I’ll miss that little hopeful face at the driveway gate every afternoon, with that knowing and expectant look on her little black face, as she hears me buzzing up the street on my little 150cc scoot. Clio has fabulous ears and can tell whether it’s me or Glen coming home and has already plonked herself in her usual position, waiting for us to appear up the driveway. I’ll miss that.

Relieving the past…

We had a productive day in the kitchen today. We finally got the exhaust fan installed, like I said below. All is good – well, it’s getting better.

Tonight, I decided to have a shower because it was getting late and my knee was killing me. The hot shower really helped. Outside in the kitchen, Glen was preparing our lunches for work tomorrow. You see, in our house we have wooden floorboards and so, it’s very easy to hear when someone is walking around. So, I’m washing my hair and letting the hot water run over my head and warm me, when I hear him walking around the house. To me, in the shower, it sounds rather heavy, like he’s cranking and instantly, I freak out and expect him to come crashing through the bathroom door to yell at me.

Why would I think that? My childhood.

Whenever I did something wrong, my mother would yell and it has had a very big impact on my life. I don’t respond well to loud noises, yelling or anyone who ‘appears’ to be unhappy with me. I totally crumble and get very upset. I am rather sensitive to a person’s mood, so if they sound unhappy or irritable, I instantly feel like I’ve caused it.

Please hear me when I say this, Glen has never yelled at me, never chastised me or burst into the room after I’ve done something wrong. He isn’t that kind of person. I am so totally lucky that I shouldn’t have to feel insecure like I used to. I shouldn’t feel on edge and uncertain about his moods. But I do.

This is my childhood upbringing and this doesn’t fault my mother, because she never hit me. Yes, she raised her voice and I guess that’s why i respond so quickly to someone yelling. I’m just very sensitive to it.

So, I sit here, thankful that I live with a very caring person who loves me for who I am and who doesn’t treat me like a child. However, I still feel on edge, I still expect to be yelled at and chastised and I’m just waiting and watching his moods, wondering what it is he means when he says something. I read too much into everything.

When will I get over it and what sort of behaviours would I be passing onto my children? It’s scary that I might pass on my idiosyncracies and hangups to someone so innocent. And will I yell at my children like my mother, so that they might become 30 years old and still wince when yelled at, or near?

Final Countdown…

I have been shit at updating my other blog – It’s My Final Countdown. And, as such, it’s quite defunct. It’s impossible for me to update this site and that site. My life is just a bit too full for me to bother, plus there are things I am foresaking, so it’s best I stick with this one and be done with it.

I had my first personal training session today. The good part is, I like my trainer. He’s nice, he’s shorter, which is just not right, but he’s very mindful of all my little idiosyncracies, which is nice. It was quite amusing actually; he asked me what issues I had, so I sat there and said, “Um, I’ve got a dodgy knee from an old tennis injury back at uni when I tore the muscle and I tore two of the three ligaments in my ankle last year.” He noted all of this done an started to talk about the training regime when I interrupted him, “Hang on, I’m not done!” He blinked. I said, “I have muscle compartment syndrome in my legs, I have some back issues, migraines and neck/back tension/muscle spasms, plus there’s a family history of blood clots.” I stopped. He blinked and then got his stylus out (yes, he was using a PDA!) and he started scribbling. I sat there, wondering whether I sounded more like an hypochondriac, than someone who was merely well-informed about her health? He became educated, “What other issues do you have?” I blinked and said, “Isn’t that enough?” We laughed. Very amusing.

We had a good session. It was kinda like a complimentary session, a getting to know you session. I got to know my muscles. Quite well. I also got a lovely headache. I still have that headache. I am about to go have a shower with some nice hot water. I have a feeling this headache is gonna be one of those, so I need to treat it with everything I’ve got 😦

Btw, it’s raining outside. Check the radar for Melbourne. It’s awesome. I love it. I hate riding in it.