I thought it was about time to blow all the
muck off this blog after letting it languish for so long and goodness me, there
was a lot of it – I’m still coughing up dust bunnies. Ugh.
What’s prompted this return? Well, I’ve recently
spent a while reading through my previous posts and it made me realise how much I actually miss writing. So,
although I feel somewhat rusty, part of my brain is shaking off the dust
shrouds, my fingers are limbering up, and my keyboard is saying, “Hold on, you
want me to actually DO something? Wtf?”
As it’s been so long (sorrynotsorry), naturally there have
been a few changes around these parts, so I’ll bring you up to speed on some of
it.
Eldest Daughter still lives in Australia –
this year is the tenth anniversary of her moving there (ten years! Ten! Where has the time gone?). In addition to my
granddaughter, Twinkle, I now also have a grandson, Honk – named because
instead of saying Hulk smash! he says Honk smash!
Youngest Daughter is all loved up and
engaged to Skywalker. They live in a house not too far from here with their mad
cat, Nutjob, which means…
I have an empty nest.
And…
I LOVE IT!
It took a little adjusting to, but after
ooh, I don’t know, a couple of days about a week or so, I was deeply
appreciative of no washing up waiting to be done (I do not have a dishwasher to load, I am the dishwasher), not
queuing for the bathroom, not tripping over shoes/bags/any other shit
paraphernalia, not watching weird crap on the tv, and not coming home from work
to find Skywalker’s used Calvin Klein underwear on top of the kitchen bin (me: Wtf?! Ewwwwww!)
I could go on, but I’m sure you get the
picture.
Not having been truly on my own since about
the age of sixteen (by which I mean relationships and children), I’ve
discovered that I am happy and content with my own company. I can do what I
want, when I want.
It’s now just over nine years since
Significant Other died, and while my official status is still classed as
widowed, I tend to think of myself as single these days. And comfortable to be
so. Having said that, my thinking about friendship and love still holds true.
And so on to Grumpy and Dopey.
Four years ago Grumpy sadly took a one way
journey to the vet after reaching the grand old age of twenty, followed,
equally sadly a year later, by Dopey, aged seventeen. Although they were much
missed, I decided not to get any more cats, partly because of my job and partly
because I just don’t want to. At some point in the future I might, but I’m not
quite at the crazy old cat lady stage. Yet.
I think that’s enough for the time being, I
don’t want to overdo it, besides, dinner is in the oven and my book, my gin and tonic and my sofa are
calling to me.
