Dear Blog … 16.07 – 23/9/18


It’s all about plot, all of it, functional and dysfunctional alike!

This weekend, l have been busy on working internally on my blog, there have been things that needed to be done, that l hadn’t got around to. However, Suze has been away since yesterday and is back later tonight from Grandmother duties – leaving Doodlepip and Dad home alone, so it was the best time to get things done.

I have changed the navigation on the blog to read easier, 7 main titles with the required drop downs, the listing and copywrting of the poetry, changing some of the things around, introducing newer headings, replacing this and replacing or upgrading that, you know the thing.

By introducing “Stories and Tales” as a dropdown, l can root out all the various stories and tales under their various guises and simply slot them all under that one catagory. It makes things way easier, but you feel at times you are losing the plot especially if you forget how to use the WordPress navigation system, which l did and l guess a three hour job, took me considerably longer. Thank goodness l have access to two screens and two servers so l can view doing on one and done on the other. Makes the job much easier to keep track of.


But it also serves as a preemptive for Scrappy – when Suze is away she almost melts down – and only today has she accepted that Suze isn’t in the house. She has gotten used to Suze working, but atypical to a dog’s routine, when it falls on those days – she knows Suze leaves at around 7.50am every morning and doesn’t get back till around 6pm at night. Meaning that once Suze has gone, then it’s Dad time. We go for a walk after 8am and back before 9am and then she sleeps all day till around 5pm. Come that time, she awakens and moves location to the front door and then either waits there till 6 or paces until 6pm, not fully at ease until Suze walks back through the door, where upon the two of them take an evening walk.

For two weeks in November this year Suze is away to Australia to visit her daughter, her Son in law and her three Grandkids and as this is the third time she has done that whilst we have been a couple, it upsets Scrappy when she is away for that length of time. So these little weekend breaks away from the home roost serve to prepare Scrappy for those two weeks away.

I dread it at times, Suze and l got together in 2013, but her Daughter moved to down under in 2015, and each time that Suze has been away for varying lengths of time, Scrappy has been unsettled. The first time in 2015 she was away for six weeks, and it took Scrappy four weeks to realise that Suze wasn’t coming home and during that time she was like a grumpy teenager! The next time Suze visited Oz was for a month between 2016/17 and it took Scrappy three weeks to settle, however whilst on the first time Scrappy was like a headless chicken when Suze came back, on the second occasion, she was like “Oh right, back then eh?” It took Scrappy two days to then show her excitement. Now Suze is only going to be away for 17 days or something, so lord knows how Scrappy will one] react to her departure, two] react to her absence and three] react to her return?


My family is dysfunctional, not too disimiliar to many other families around the world l should imagine. I have an arrogant Father who is dying of cancer, and yet despite evrything whilst my care, love and affection may be different to other Father/Son relationships it doesn’t mean that l am lacking in empathy for either him or the dreadful plight he finds himself in. I have a Sister who my Father for whatever reasoning created a rift between us for nearly 18 years and we have literally only been talking again for the first time in all of those years for the last five weeks and whilst that is easier than before, we are both still a little wary of each other. Then l have a neurotical Mother who is notorious for being a hypochondriac and who hated my Father up until six weeks ago and yet now, is displaying somewhat creepy affection orientated empathy towards him through both my Sister and myself.

They were married for thirty years and have been divorced for nearly the same period, and all the way through the divorce years and up to  six weeks ago, my Mother was a devout follower of the I Hate my Ex Husband cult! She hated him because she refused to forgive him of his sins against her during their marriage, and she maintained a healthy sometimes overly bitterness towards his very presence on Planet Earth.

I don’t hate my Father , but currently l am in a funny old bubble of mixed emotions about it all, and more so in recent weeks due to his vileness. I forgave him years ago for the brutalities of my childhood and his behaviours since then, but learned to either tolerate or just ostricise myself from him and his old fashioned antiquated ways, which has meant that my Father and l are not ‘best friends or best buddies, we are just a Father and a Son that share the same bloodline. I forgave him – yes, but l have never forgotten. I couldn’t carry the bitterness my Mother carries as it can damage a person and she is living testament to that alone!

However, this afternoon whilst totally engrossed in changing titles of posts to the new format, which is somewhat mind boggling work, my Mother calls me out of the blue and basically endeavours to try and instruct me that l should care for my Father more, as he is the only one l have!?

I will not pretend this call didn’t take me by surprise somewhat, as it did. When l enquired as to what exactly she meant, she simply said “He is dying!”

The only answer l could deliver was “I know that already, but what on earth are you on about?”

She dilly dallied around the subject and we went through a heated discussion of the rights and wrongs of my Father for me to ask her, why she was changing her attitude towards him suddenly? The man who beat her all the way during their 30 years together, who hated her and her children, who didn’t wish to be a Father or her husband, who caused her several miscarriages and the list went on, finishing with, l didn’t ‘hate’ him, l just don’t like him.

Her end sentence before she hung up on me  was simply when l told her l had forgiven him, but l could never forget, was “I can never forgive him, and l can never forget, but you must try harder!”

The line finished at that point, and l was left holding the receiver wondering which was of us had lost the plot?


Dear Blog ……


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