The Pipes The Pipes are Calling

Oh how things change! Gone are the days when I would climb through people's windows, whether it be to leave someone my bank card or to put out a fire. You are much more likely to find me cleaning the windows now. Gone our the days when a bottle of John Jameson was my date for the weekend. I still like him, I just find him a bit sickening in large doses. I really don't mind though. I might have less to write about the weekends but I sure am happier.

On Saturday night K-Dog (that special someone I've been gallivanting 'round the country with) and I stayed in. We had Judy dog (an actual dog), on loan, from Nellybert's and we were drinking a couple of ciders. This is how rock and roll I am. I fell asleep on the sofa. Woke up with Judy lying on top of me, all flustered and sweltered with the heat of the night and the warmth of a sensitive dog. I lay on the livingroom floor with my clothes half on and half off, writhing around like a bug getting burnt alive with a magnifying glass. I was laughed at. By K-Dog, Judy and I'm pretty sure Meka was smirking from her hammock as well.

On Sunday we headed out to do some work on the tree house. Though I always dreamed of being a carpenter I don't think the skills required come naturally to me. That aside, I spent a happy afternoon drilling screws in to secure the floor. By the time we were finished for the day the floor was down, the sofa was in and a massive thunder storm had started. I sat on the sofa and listened to the sound of the rain falling onto the tarpaulin roof.

The tree house has stirred great excitement. Just the kind of excitement I love. There was chat, a million moons ago, that Bert would, one day, build a tree house, but he was too busy telling tales of squishy faced tomato men and pretending the car had broke down on level crossings. Now though, Bert is most definitely enjoying the tree house project. We all are. K-Dog, Bert, Young Banjo and I are the most dedicated, Nelly too, for her important role of "feeding the workers" but, the visitors who call round on a Sunday like to muck in as well. I'm a great believer in energy and I believe that a lot of positive energy is going into building this tree house. It will be a sanctuary. With a sofa, a table and a stove. I think I might buy a typewriter.

Today I have a bit of cleaning around the boring old normal house to do. I would have to do it anyway but I have guests coming from England tomorrow so it is especially important. My guests come in the form of a young, amazing, sweet Danny Boy, who has joined me on many an adventure and high jinx in random countries, and his girlfriend, who I haven't yet met but know that I will find as equally young, amazing and sweet. The last time Danny came to visit we took him to Glenariff Forest Park where we boycotted all the usual trails in favour of the lesser known pixie trail. But the pixie trail was nothing compared to El Arbol Del Tule in Oaxaca. We also spent many nights in Mexico city sampling all the different flavours of mezcale, each one being decidedly more disgusting than the last. Oh, and there was also that time in Bangkok....

When Mum Goes Away.....

Bert is my step dad, although I find it hard to see him as that. He was always more like an uncle/annoying big brother. It was Bert who concocted stories of the Squishy Face Tomato Man to keep me out of the attic. I had visions of this guy, wearing pin striped trousers and a check shirt, sitting up in the attic all alone and sad and angry at the world. Normal enough, except that, where his face would have been was an old squishy, pulpy tomato. He still had eyes, though they were bulging, and his lips were red and plump. He did not care for small children.

Bert was also the man who used to threaten me with "See this finger, see this thumb, see this fist, you better run". Of course he never hit me but, if I was being particularly annoying, Bert would merely show me his finger. Bert has a much higher tolerance for children now. In fact, I'd nearly go as far to say, he positively adores his two grandchildren. I think Bert is reliving his childhood through Martha and Evie. Last week when I was reading the Gingerbread Man in the back of the van to Martha, Bert "pretended" to be smoking. Then his friend Scary T rocked up onto the yard at a crucial moment (the fox was helping the gingerbread man cross the river) and Bert ignored him 'til the story was finished.

I don't know how Bert's going to cope when mum goes to Vancouver for 2 weeks. He may forget to eat, wash himself, dress appropriately and never mind the state of the house. I think he will be like a semi wild animal when she returns. She will have to tame him again. He will be a wild beast that can play hauntingly beautiful clarinet. He may move out of the house when it gets too dirty and reside in the tree house. I can see him now, swinging from the trees. The dogs will have ran off to go find some kind of responsible owner. They probably won't go too far, just down the road to Clint's. The cats won't mind. They will find the whole situation very amusing. Don't worry mum, I'll keep an eye on him.

Three Become One

Well, as you can see I've been taking advantage of the good weather. There has been adventuring aplenty in Lietrim, Donegal, Cullybackey and Antrim. You can also see a picture of the tree house there. There's been no work done on it for a couple of weeks but we're back at it this weekend. Thank God I will have somewhere to live when I run out of money for rent!

I have only one rat now. Though she takes up the space of two rats as she's so fat. Rocky died last autumn. He had been slowing down and getting frailer. Then he lay in my arms one day and died. Shortly after Rocky passed away I had to take Meka to get a lump removed from her chest. It was a massive lump and I fretted the whole day she was in surgery. It barely fazed the wee trooper and if anything, she became more bold and comfortable around humans. Polly and Meka had a happy time together for a while. Polly was always the dominant one and when I noticed a shift in the dynamics between the two I started to get suspicious that Polly was getting sick. My suspicions were confirmed. Polly was sick for a couple of weeks but in the last few days I knew she couldn't fight it anymore. I thought she might die quickly, like Rocky, but it was slow and I coldn't watch her suffer any more. I took her to the vet's.

So now Meka is a solo rat. I would like to get her company but then that leaves me stuck in the eternal rat loop. She has been so brave though. I know how important it is for rats to have a cage mate. I am making sure to tickle in behind her ears like Polly used to do.

Getting There

Right! Here we go again. Back to blogging. And why not? Sure isn't it a great way to pass the time (of which I have a lot of at the minute). Of course, it's a decision not just borne out of boredom. Y'see, when I went away that time I was busy. Busy struggling with the reality of my life. I became very depressed. Of course, I've been suffering from depression for a long time, and trying to put a band aid over it, but that was doing me no good at all. In fact, it was making things worse. So I took a break from blogging because the only words that wanted to come from my head were words of misery and doom. And I did not want to bore everyone else with that. I didn't stop writing though. How could I? It's what keeps me sane.

Anyway, I'm back now and life is a lot more peachy. The biggest thorn in my paw is that I'm not working. I walked out of my job because I'd been unhappy for so long and all of a sudden my soul was not allowing me to stay in situations that were bad for it. It wasn't the best time to walk out of a job but I did not want to be scare mongered into staying somewhere that was doing me so much damage. Unfortunately, in today's current economic climate, many emlpoyers are treating their staff like crap and getting away with it because employees feel trapped. We are told everyday "there are no jobs", so we are expected to smile through the abuse and be thankful that we have the opportunity to feel so disposbale and humiliated. Well, screw that.

Despite my rant it is a little bit scary wondering where you're going to get money for rent. It was a rash decision to make for someone who is so fiercely independent, someone who hates to rely on others. But so far, so good. I am looking after myself and staying (mostly) hopeful.

On the plus side all this free time has been rather glorious. The sun has been shining EVERY DAY and I have been eploring the country with a very special person. I have also had the time to do a lot of fine tuning and editing on a book I accidentally wrote. I wrote this when I wasn't blogging. It got me through the darkness. Now I'm nearly ready to share it with the world. I am in the process of researching publishers and I've maybe found the perfect company to publish my book. I am, in no way, under any illusion about this. I know that I am merely one wannabe writer amongst a million. But if I tell myself it's not good enough to be published then I'm shooting myself in the foot even before I've started. i might as well let the professionals decide that and remain eternally optimistic about it. There is no point embarking upon this journey unless I believe in myself.

Now that I've got this first blog out of the way, it's time to do a bit of revamping around the Palace.