I really like this quote for the week.

Hope you have a good one….

“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”

Albert Einstein

Everything happens for a reason, so they say. There is a chance to learn and grow even from bad experiences. I get that. I really get it, but sometimes I get sick of being pulled back into the negative energy of the past.

My brother-in-law is drinking again. It didn’t take him long. The violence that comes with the drinking is back too, in full force. He has already said he is going to throw my sister off the balcony of the first floor of their new house.

I went round to see her and she confessed it all to me in a rush the way a child does when they are caught doing something wrong.

He doesn’t mean it, she says by way of justification. He doesn’t know what he is doing.

I wasn’t really listening to her, focusing on the purplish-red marks on her neck that almost completely matched the colour of the resplendent bougainvillea growing along her garden wall.

I have a thing about bougainvillea. I love it and I hate it. When I lived in my old house back in the golden age I had the most beautiful reddish-purpley bougainvillea growing in my garden. It took me three years but I trained it to run the full length of the garden wall. It was glorious. Butterflies supped on it, birds frolicked, even little lizards snuggled in the thick of it. It was such a pick-me-up to see it every morning; so vivid, so bold…. like something Mother Nature herself might wear as a train or cape to a ceremonial ball.

When we sold the golden age house the new owners pulled all the bougainvillea off the wall. They burned it off. There were black marks left behind where it had clung with frenzied fingers begging: Don’t, don’t, please don’t. Let me stay……

I remember when I saw the bougainvillea was gone I broke out into one of those shuddering, choking sobs that can be hard to control…blubbering away like a madwoman right there in the street.

Since then I have avoided bougainvillea as much as possible. When I know I am well and truly settled I will plant a length of it again, but not yet….not yet.

My sister knows how much I love bougainvillea. The garden is full of it, she said, excited to describe her new home. I was pleased for her in a tentative way…fresh starts can be daunting, hard to get used to…it’s best to approach them with baby steps….but marks on someone’s neck that match the shade of bougainvillea in the garden don’t really bode well for me…..not well at all.

I can’t deal with this, I said to her. You know where I stand. I can’t go through it all again.

We leave on a bad note. She is angry with me, I can tell, but I refuse to get sucked in to the labyrinth of her need and denial. I won’t do it.

On the way home I stop at the lights in front of a house I have driven past a hundred times before. There is bougainvillea running along the front fence – dusky purple. The evening light is being filtered through it, casting filigreed shadows on the ground. Maybe it is wishful thinking on my part, but it seems to signify hope. I drive home, a little less grimly than before, imagining long, purple capes trailing their magic on the ground.

Here it is. My tribute to the Mayans and the end of the world that never came…..

Rina was looking forward to the end of the world. It would be a relief to not have to pretend anymore. To spend hour upon hour, minute upon minute covering things up. Covering the state of herself up.

She was so putrid she had to spray five bottles of lavender essence on herself throughout the day. Thank God you could get it at the two dollar store. It would have cost her a fortune otherwise. But because it was cheap it was obviously watered down so it was beginning to not cover up what it needed to cover up.

Decomposition was a bitch. You couldn’t do anything to stop it once it started and the smell, well it was enough to wake the dead. Even the living dead.

It had been kind of exciting when Rina found out she was a zombie, glamorous even. Zombies were such a huge part of popular culture these days there was something special about being one. Rina felt like a member of some elite club.  She strutted around with her pus-encrusted, green-tinged lips like she was some kind of celebrity….it was the notoriety she had always wanted…until the realisation that she was decaying but not dying set in.

Stench. It was the only way to describe the state she was in… a mix of fruit left to rot in the sun, someone who’d wet themselves and hadn’t changed their underwear for two weeks and raw, rancid, mouldy chicken.

Rina was surprised she could stand it because when she was fully alive her sense of smell was so sensitive she would often dry retch at the slightest of stinks. That was probably the best thing about being a zombie…..no smells bothered you. Nothing. Nor did horrible sights. Animal roadkill, drunk people throwing up in the streets, car accidents where people went right through the windscreen…none of them phased her now she was a zombie. She had the strongest stomach ever. It was liberating.

But the decay was causing problems. People were running from her in droves. Rina could hardly blame them. She was rank. And it was extremely difficult to constantly advise people to stand downwind of her.

She didn’t know how the world was going to end. She favoured a Hollywood-esque type of ending with lots of explosions, meteor showers and maybe a few tsunamis. A bit of pestilence and plague wouldn’t go amiss, either. You liked a bit of pestilence and plague when you were a zombie.

Strange thing was you liked a lot of the things as a zombie that you had liked as a human – good movies, cool clothes, books you couldn’t put down (except that the real reason you couldn’t put the book down was because it had stuck like glue to all the pus on your hands…)

And you felt the same things – the doubts, the fears, the insecurities…highlighted by the fact that you were undergoing decomposition so quickly your entire body was turning to slime.

So Rina was looking forward to the end of the world. Being zombielicious wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

On December 21^st she was excited, full of anticipation. She knew the Mayans were right. She just knew it. She hobbled to the town square looking up at the clock. Her neck creaked, freezing in a slanted, left-leaning position.

Noon came, late afternoon, evening. Rina had been standing for several hours in the sun, which hadn’t done her any favours in the body odour department. People edged past her, dry retching. As the hours drew closer to midnight she began to feel a little discouraged. Could it be that the Mayans had been wrong with their apocalyptic predictions?

The clock struck midnight. Rina heard footsteps coming towards her. At last. She turned around as best as she could with her wonky neck. It was a group of teenagers carrying spades, garden rakes and pick axes. They were wearing either Walking Dead or Call Of Duty T-shirts.

‘Dirty freaking zombie,’ one of them said.

‘Ewwww. She stinks,’ said another.

All the teenagers raised their weapons.

‘Get it,’ said one.

‘Hack it up,’ said another.

‘Wait. Wait,’ Rina muttered. ‘The world’s going to end in a minute, anyway. Why waste your final moments getting rid of me? Why don’t you just enjoy the sights and sounds of the apocalypse?’

‘Gross and stupid,’ said one of the teenagers. ‘Only a zombie would believe that Mayan crap.’ He raised his axe, lodging it in Rina’s chest, splitting her sternum in two. ‘Coming apart just like an over-ripe pumpkin,’ he said.

‘Wait,’ Rina begged. ‘Please wait. I want to see how it ends. I want to know if it really happens.’

‘Oh, it’s going to happen all right,’ said the teenager with the axe. ‘But only for you.’ He raised his axe again, chopping one of Rina’s arms off at the shoulder. His friends followed suit. For several minutes the only sounds in the town square were of a zombie being hacked, smashed, sliced and split into a pile of ooze that resembled nothing remotely human.

The teenagers finished their grisly work, congratulating one another with high fives and loud whoops. They left the town square looking for more action. Very little of Rina remained, only fragments of her clothes that had stuck to the pavement. It was a sad, slightly disgusting sight.

A light breeze picked up as the hands of the clock clicked over to a new day, a day without Rina in it….. to a multitude of unlived moments, unexplored possibilities, to a world that would continue to go on for as long as it should.

Must be time to bring it back.

I really like this one.

Have a fantastic week, everyone!

I wasn’t going to tell you about this because I wanted the start of the year to be positive and focusing on up subjects but I saw something on New Year’s Eve that has been plaguing me a bit.

I popped out to get some potato chips about 10.30PM and saw a terrible road accident. The roads were really busy and I had to do quite a bit of defensive driving. It was obvious most of the drivers had been drinking and were still set on driving.

Down on Parramatta Road as it nears the hospital a young motorcyclist had been hit by an equally young driver (on his P-plates.) The P-plater was so drunk he could barely stand up. There was glass and blood and bent fenders everywhere.

I think the motorcyclist was dead. There was a lot of blood around his head and he wasn’t moving. A lot of blood. A young girl whom I assume was the passenger of the P-plater had sunk onto the ground in grief. She was holding a sparkly party hat and one of those paper tooters that go in and out when you blow into them. I have never seen anyone shaking so much. I feared for her she was shaking so much.

I caught the eye of one of the female police officers moving the traffic along and her face was dead white. I won’t ever forget her expression… a mixture of sorrow, horror and anger that this kind of thing should still be happening with drinking and driving. There are so many ad campaigns and education programs out there regarding the evils of drinking and driving. It is drummed into all of us. Yet why do so many people think they are immune from the dangers of it?

There you are driving along, all excited about the New Year’s party you’re going to. You have a brand new motorbike you’re going to show your mates. And then some drunk little 18 year old who’s had his licence for 2 weeks takes you out at the intersection and it’s all over. In an instant.

It’s true what they say about appreciating what we have and giving thanks every day because you never know what lies around the corner….even from one moment to the next.

Since I saw the accident I have been thinking about the motorcyclist. The call his mother would get. The disbelief that would surge through her. The panic. Her New Year would be marked by that incident every single year from that moment on.

Sadness and hurt and pain…… it’s never far away from us, is it? Even amidst the fireworks and sparkly lights. Hug your loved ones as often as you can. I’m going to from now on. Things can change in an instant. Just like that. There is no escaping it.

2013.

Sounds good, doesn’t it?

I want to make a really fresh start this year so I want to do a bit of clearing out of the negative energy, bad thoughts, in my life with some lists and such. I love lists, they seem so formal and productive somehow.

(Hope you can read the text. Don’t know if I made it big enough. Click on the photo to enlarge if you can’t…..)

Here are all the negative things from 2012 I want to acknowledge and get rid of  so I can move forward.

Now burn that sucker. Burn it. Burn it down…. (sounds like a track from the disco era….) Burn it so I can do a bit of forgiving and forgetting.

WOAH. Had a bit of a blaze going for a minute there……. but strangely enough, I feel a little better now. Cleansed.

2012 wasn’t all bad. It was a hell of a year but I learned a lot of things from it. Here is my THANK YOU list to 2012.

Like attracts like. Gratitude does increase the levels of positivity in our lives. I have learned that.

Farewell 2012. I had a hard time with you but I learned a lot and I am glad to still be here to face the new day.

HAPPY 2013. May it bring you lots and lots of the good stuff!!!

** Fire photo courtesy of Deviant Art by Todd 587

Thank you for reading my sporadic musings this year.

I love all of you.

I saw this on deviant art by Dreaming Digital and as I wasn’t able to put up my tree this year due to all the hassles with moving thought a virtual one would be nice instead.

Hope you are having a fantastic time wherever you are and whatever you are doing for Christmas. Hugs and smooches to you all XXXX

• We moved. It is a really nice house. Very quiet, lots of space and a bathroom each. Doesn’t that seem incredibly self-indulgent and almost like we are movie stars or something? Three bathrooms. I’m not used to such extravagance.
• I was very sad to leave my other house. I lived there for nearly six years and there were a lot of memories contained within the walls…both good and bad. You get used to things, don’t you? The way the floor in the living room creaks as you go to get a drink of water at night. The moon shining through the jacaranda tree. The noisy miner (Aussie bird) that used to look at me through my study window. I cried a bit when we left. It has been such a difficult year I just wanted it to end with a bit of peace and quiet and no more upheaval but it was not meant to be. Change is good for the soul…I keep telling myself that.
• We have opened a new shop in Glebe. It is a record shop, bar and grill and looks quite groovy. It is called The Record Crate. It will have it’s own blog and Facebook page and so on which I will let you know all about once I have it all up and running. We have high hopes for it. HIGH. It is our last chance to make some decent money in Sydney. I am crossing everything it is possible to cross and hoping like I always do.
• My Mum seems in better health although she may have to have a hysterectomy in March as a precautionary measure. It hasn’t been completely confirmed yet.
• I got my son an iPhone 5 and I have never seen anyone express such joy and gratitude over a gadget. I had no idea he would be so thrilled with it. I remain the only one in the family (the dinosaur) without a mobile phone and I am determined to keep it that way. I like the look on people’s faces when I say I don’t have a mobile. It’s as if I have just admitted to having leprosy or something.
• I am doing a lot of writing. A lot. My depression has been shocking with all these changes and the writing is really getting me through it. Hey, maybe something that is actually publishable might come out of it.
• Three of my most beloved goldfish died during our move. Sometimes they don’t survive the transition. It’s a bit of a shock for them. Farewell my dearest Lois, Marvin and Clancy. I will always love you.
• My sister is still with her husband and they have just bought a new house together. I don’t know what to think anymore. My attitude towards her is one of suspending judgement or even the slightest of opinions. It is probably the best way to keep my already precarious mental health intact.
• The guy who installed my Foxtel (cableTV) was the nicest guy. He was Muslim and we chatted for over an hour about Islam. He taught me a lot. He was so gracious and kind and family-oriented. So interesting to talk to. He didn’t charge me the full fee for the installation and I cried after he left. Unexpected kindnesses always make me boo-hoo.
• I’ve been thinking about those little kids killed in Connecticut and I just don’t know how their parents and families are coping with the grief. I just don’t know. How does one bear such sadness? It must almost be impossible.

Here are some photos from the new neighbourhood.

There is a nice seedy pub round the corner with topless barmaids. I thought that kind of thing went out in the ’80s. Shows how much I know. They have jelly wrestling on Tuesday nights. If it’s raspberry flavour I might sign up.

My neighbour has a garden full of hydrangeas. I know they are somewhat old-fashioned but I love a good hydrangea. I am enjoying watching her pottering about in the garden.

CHIMNEY POT!!! You know all is not lost if there is still a good chimney pot or two to check out. Chim chim cheree!

View from my balcony where the lorikeets roost at twilight. They are such dear little things with their twittering. Already I am looking forward to seeing them each day.

Captive Kangaroo. My neighbour has this kangaroo tied to a tree in his front garden. I don’t know if it’s because he really loves kangaroos or if it is some kind of special kangaroo deterrent like a guard dog. Either way, I laugh whenever I see it!

My new local park at night. It is very peaceful. People sit at the picnic tables at dusk eating the Portuguese chicken that is famous in the area. There is a nice sense of community.

And finally…this is the view from our new shop. You open the front doors and WHAM – there it is…… Centrepoint Tower. Makes you feel like you are a part of something.

Hope you are all well.

But he was broken. His marriage split up because of his alcoholism. He lost everything he ever had and was living in a caravan on my Aunt’s land in Donegal, Ireland. His two kids haven’t spoken to him for years. I spoke to him all the time because I could see how pure his heart was (and how great his sense of humour was) in spite of all the things covering it up like empty bottles of booze, an often belligerent attitude and three packets of cigarettes a day. Oh what we do to ourselves to cover up the holes in our lives….

Uncle Denis died a particularly horrible death, unfortunately. Throat cancer that ended up eating into his jaw. He had to have his whole tongue removed and be fed intravenously. It was horrendous.

Yet he maintained his sense of humour – wry and black as it was.

I’ll miss him a lot. I’ve been searching all day for photos of him but can’t find where I’ve put them so I’ll include this one instead that I saw on Facebook. It made me cry a bit but it’s probably something most of us who have lost someone wish for.

What a year it’s been. I’ll miss you my dearest Uncle Denis. I know now that you are no longer suffering and are at peace up in heaven with all your stray cats and dogs. I love you.

Picture this. My Mum and I , estranged for quite a long period of time for reasons that now seem insignificant…making up after a really stressful time for me and my family….her being there for me was like that way you feel as a kid when you get the Christmas present you had been longing for all year. Then she suffers a pulmonary embolism and nearly dies but begins to recover after a stay in hospital and being put on Warfarin.

Then she begins to experience severe pain of the gynaecological kind. And bleeding. And incredible fatigue. The gynaecologist does all sorts of tests on her and says :’It might be cancer. And we probably won’t be able to operate.’

So I freak out in that way where you’re pretending everything is going to be OK and you’re determined to stay positive for the other person’s sake because you don’t want them to see how panicked you are…so it’s a really internal kind of freak out that ends up almost eating you alive and you think; ‘How the hell am I going to cope if she dies? How am I going to bear it?’

And you get mad, really mad at the world, at the Universe, at God, thinking, we’ve only just found each other again and now you’re going to take her away from me? How dare you? How can you do that to me?

And then you start to calm down and think : What can I do? What can I do to stop this from being the way it ends?

And there is only one thing you can do when it comes down to it ….. get down on your knees and pray.

I have been praying to all the gods and mystical creatures I can think of in my pagan, lapsed Catholic, fruity spiritual way… all day and all night. It hasn’t all been praying of the most sensible kind, there has been a bit of begging and ranting too. And a lot of weeping. But I haven’t stopped. Not for one day. Not for one moment. Praying for my Mum.

This week my Mum got her results. She doesn’t have cancer. I could be wrong but I feel as if my prayers have been answered. I feel as if a higher power has been watching over me, over her, not letting it be her time to go yet. Giving us a little bit longer together. I feel blessed, I really do. And even though I am usually skeptical about such things and like to look at positive outcomes from a scientific perspective, I now believe, quite strongly, that prayer works. It is an odd, wonderful and unexpected realisation.