Whirlwind-ish.

BOTTOMS!

I am back.

Yes I bloody buggery am.

Unfortunately, I have little of substance to say. Other than we built the weird cat a ladder-plank sort of device to help her escape from our outdoor "patio" (small square of concrete) into the heavenly wilds of the wilderness beyond (flat above's garden).

She has not used it yet. It is disappointing.

Life continues apace. I have developed hysterical headaches as a clear message to myself to get some sleep and spend more time watching rubbish telly. Unfortunately this does not fit too well with two jobs, a post graduate studying doodah for which an essay is shortly due, and beginning a placement in which I (I!) must counsel youth.

As if I knew any stuff at all.

In the meantime I am reading books called things like "Working with Adolescents: a Contemporary Psychodynamic Approach", desperately browsing (can one browse desperately?) the internet for presents for hub's 30th birthday, closing my eyes and sticking my fingers in my ears about the approach of my 30th birthday (one week's time!) and trying to deal with my extreme pissed-offness at the increasingly hurtful behaviour of my sisters (including promised presence then sudden unexplained absence at aforementioned birthday frolics).

Oh I am nothing but a write-as-you-would-vomit dear little thing today, aren't I just!

PS. The funeral was, well, y'know, as funerals are. I did read. And I was glad of it.

Holding

Well.

It has been a strange week. Granny's funeral is this Friday and so all week I have had a sense of having to hold something. A big wodge of feeling. And it has been strange being away from home, from mum and dad while this big thing is happening. Everything is on hold until I go back.

I am trying to decide whether to read something at the funeral. My youngest sister is going to, and there was a suggestion that all three of us should. I would like to, but at the same time I am afraid that I won't do her justice, that I won't find the right thing to read, and that I will fall apart like a blubbing fool in front of the entire WI (the entire WI will be there. Oh yes they will. She was a stalwart of the Women's Institute, my granny).

So today I am mulling it over. Wondering what I could read. What I could say. How I could express just a tiny bit of who she was and what she meant to me.

It is crazy really.

In other news, I am making a casserole. And the weird cat is making very weird noises.

Feeling a teensy bit overwhelmed.

And very sad. My granny died you see. And she was lovely. A bit batty, but lovely.

She's been poorly for a while, she had had two heart attacks this year, and then had another yesterday. She slipped away this morning.

I am spending time floating around in my memories of her, and realising everything she gave me. This includes our shared sense of whimsy and an unwavering belief in the existence of fairies.

I feel lucky to have had a granny like her.