The Big Day...

A week tomorrow I will be 50. A little more than that I will be having a big party at one of the town hall rooms. I have been arranging this thing for so long I can't believe its really here.
Mind you, the £275 wine bill gave me a sharp reminder. And so did the £250 deposit against damages. And the fee for the room itself, a mere £ 384. And then there is the food, cheese and wine - oh, and the soft drinks and stuff for the kids. (They're getting a cheese football each!)

Three things I have learned in life. Never live your life through your children, never ever kiss a baby with gastro interitous and never, and i mean never book something you can't really afford.

Thank God for the Supermarket. I know its a sweatshop but thank god it gave me a home. And thank god its not Woolworths. Thank God for my pathetic paypacket every month. And for the childminding i do once a week. And the Child allowance.. Oh Lordy ! i'll be glad when its all over!

And in bed I toss and turn. Suppose no-one turns up! Suppose one of the kids breaks something!
Suppose I get bored! I have that room from 12 till 4, I'm bound to get a bit bored. And I can't keep going out for a fag! ( I ought to get a discount for that inconvenience). And when am i supposed to buy that cheese? I know nothing about bloody cheese, why did i put cheese and wine on the invitations? I only know Tesco value cheddar!

Tomorrow going to see Annie Lebowitz's exhibition God Knows where with Husband. It won't remotely take my mind off things but never mind. Would rather be going round a supermarket looking at cheese.

A night at the Theatre

A night out at the theatre was needed. To take my mind off the nits and other things. So me and Husband, on our rare nights out together, AND time alone, we set off for the Richmond Theatre to see Alan Bennett's play ENJOY. Alan Bennett is fast becoming a national treasure and i've loved his work generally but he can still hit and miss with me.

It was a little known play that appeared in the West End in 1980 for a short run. And it was good. A bit nastier than you anticipate. But maybe thats a sign of a truly clever writer.

But the real subtext of violence and nastiness happened at the interval. There was a coachload of old people there - and i mean really old. Walking sticks and everything. Gosh, one old boy with a stick pushed people right out of the way. And so did some old girl. She was more violent than my late Gran after a few whiskies, and thats' saying something. I mean I do appreciate these old theatres are incredibly impractical especially when there's a full house like last night. And now with the smoking ban, it really is a cut-throat thing to make it outside. But really. I felt i was in the middle of a rugby scrum - and without a mouth guard!

Bloody blue-rinse brigade! I hope i don't get like that. Or perhaps i'm like that already. One thing is for sure , have been desperately trying to get Alan Bennett on the phone. I virtually have his next play written for him!

Bruised and battered this morning. That whole coachload have gone right on my bastard list. Under the Nits of course.

Infested...

Not a good start to the day. Woke up with a deep suspicion. Went up to the bathroom and washed my hair. And combed it afterwards. And yes, my suspicions were confirmed. I had bloody nits!!! I could feel the buggers jumping on and biting my neck last night.

Those things never normally come near me. They bite my poor daughter to death but they usually leave me alone. Apparently there's a terrible infestation this year. They must be pretty bloody desperate to live on MY head. I've had my hair full of chemicals and peroxide virtually since i was born. They have gone straight to number one on my bastard list, i tell you.

I stink of Neem shampoo and tea tree oil, people were giving me funny looks at the supermarket. £18 I spent up at the chemists on oils and shit. I tell you, if you want to start your own business in this dodgy economic climate, set up your own nit busting company, you'll rake it in!! No credit crunch will stand in the way of driving out nits!

My neck is itchy from where the sods have been biting it. Hate them so much. Feel so dirty and infested. Bloody fed up!

What a load of old....

After a week of being squeezed to death by vets and dentists. And not being able to bear to stand by the phone awaiting the specialist's second opinion, i leg it off to Westfield.

Being a high street girl, i am far from virtuous about shopping. I'm as "Had to Have" and "but it was a bargain!" as the next one. But I have never been driven to actually make a day of it and visit somewhere like Bluewater or Lakeside. Where you're literally in it for the day. I like shopping centres you can walk away from. And Westfield being next to Shepherds Bush tube seemed ideal.

Well, what a load of old rubbish. The "village" - what village? - half the shops hadn't opened yet. And its all "poncy stuff" as a local was quoted as saying. I have to say its a long way from Oil Drum lane. I can't see Harold Steptoe and his horse coming down here. (The extent of my knowledge of Shepherds Bush).

I mean, I know none of that designer stuff comes near me anyway. A size 12 is obese to them. But why does it have to look so stark? And i couldnt' find anything. There was no map of all the stores or anything. I just had to keep walking.

And actually, I eventually found out, they had every shop except the one i wanted. John Lewis. Began to forgive them slightly when i went in the huge M&S and even tho' their stock was horrendously squashed up, they had a huge square deli bar. Now i'm the first to slag off American things but this was an exception. All my heroes have sat at a deli drinking their coffee and eating American things. Columbo, Gene Hackman, Roy Schneider, Irene Carr. So I struggled up on that high stool and ordered the cooked breakfast that they serve before 12 noon. I mean, my poor lazy bowel , but I don't care.

Running out after paying the bill to have a fag - incidentally, that particular paved area was the busiest of the whole shopping centre - I walk back dejectedly to the tube. This time i go to Shepherds Bush market station a bit further along so i can get to Hammersmith. But whats this? What do i find as I walk by?? Shepherds Bush Market. A mirage in a cold desert. The voices are calling me. the stalls look so bright. I have to go in there.

What a fantastic place! I bought a long skirt, two metres of material, sweets, clemintines, the lot! Everyone so lovely and friendly. So I spent all my money after all. But whats better? To piss it away in a cold shopping centre or a lively humming market that supports the locals?

Husbands coming with me next time. He wants Foyles and the deli bar in Westfield and I want the market again!

I went home happy after all.

On a lighter note....

While we are waiting for a specialist's results, we are making the best fuss of Rose that we can. Not that we didn't before!

But a light through the dark cloud has broken through. Son was the only year 5 picked to play for the school football team . The rest are year 6's. They played a match yesterday and although they got slaughtered - 5-1 - Son scored their only goal. What a football boy!

Why would he remotely care that he's in the second maths group now? And he acknowledges that there are better footballers than him. So i don't even have to go through that! We have all learnt this painful lesson that there is always someone better than us. I'm just glad he 's learnt it young.

but what i don't get is, is he genuinely good? or is it just sheer lack of competition? all footballers look like Pele or George best to me. they kick a football don't they?

Life's so strange, how it deals out sadness and joy.

One of Life's blows

Not a good day today. Pissed down with rain, couldn't get anyone to have Son after football, what has happened to his popularity all of a sudden?, went to my Mum's and my bloody brother was there and now i've had a phone call from the Vet. The results have come back from the Lab and they dedect white cells, possibly luekemia. Maybe a tumour.

Why oh why does life give with one hand and take away with the other???

Vet seemed surprised Rose had changed for the better and wants me to bring her in on wednesday. He's a good bloke actually because he's not normally there on wednesday mornings but has rearranged things so he can still treat Rose. This has all become very urgent too quickly. Hate vets normally. This is because of Allastair, the vet on the Archers, he is such a miserable spineless bastard. And somehow this irrational and unprovoked hate has spread to real vets. Not fair really. But then its not fair about my cat either.

What in Gods name am i going to tell the kids? They know she's ill. But what good would it do to let them know how much? My poor rabbit George had a terrible tumour and despite the best vet care possible, he still suffered. Don't want Rosie to go through that.

Have told Husband in secret. He loves Rose passionately. And the kids heard me on the phone to the Vet apparently so Husband told them it was a stomach infection. Didn't want to lie but......

Oh Lordy......

Good News - I think....

The Pancreas. Ignorant cow, i didn't even know where that was. The vet had to tell me. But he's waiting a further blood test from the lab before he can be sure. But he reckons that her pancreas is causing her pain.

I know this is awful but i hope it was the pain that turned her against us like this. Not a psychological thing. Not something like a dementia that my Dad got. I know that sounds stupid but i was convinced something terrible was going on in her head. At least if she is treated medically, she could love us again. We still love her.

Vet gave her a huge antibiotic injection and she slept non-stop that afternoon. When she finally woke, she was a bit like her old self again. Hassling me when i tried to have a lie-in today, purring for England, she was a bit like my old Furry Purry again. So fingers crossed. The Vet was very unhappy about her behaviour but lets hope its a medical thing that can be taken care of.

Meanwhile, had to work at the rugby match this saturday. On the tills! 9 am till 7 pm. God, was i miserable! And then today, trotting off to Highgate to Lauderdale house to see my friend sing. He was supporting someone in a concert and he has a beautiful voice but all i wanted to do was go home and be with Rosie. Also, North London seems another world now. When I lived in Enfield, i was always going up Hampstead and that Jacksons Lane centre to see productions and that. Its funny how you change. Its funny how you feel like a foreigner when you live in the West of London.

Talking of that, Westfield has opened up its doors and Shepherds Bush so tantilisingly close. I mean i know Woman's Hour has a point - its a new centre with the same old shops but I have never been to a proper shopping place before. Not Brent Cross nor Lakeside nor Bluewater. I've always had Hounslow and Kingston to keep me warm but now i'm curious. i've always wanted to go that Metro centre , the one Viz magazine talk about. But it sounds like this one is even bigger. God, i hope its not like Fountaingate, like the one in Kath and Kim.

Beating the Zombies

To overcome my stupid irrational fear of zombies, what was the best thing i could do? yes, thats right. Have a birthday party with a load of 10 year old boys. An hour with them would make me gladly welcome any passing Undead. Although it would have to be a pretty foolhardy zombie to enter a room full of wild boys.

Son was 10 in October. So this Sunday we had a swimming party at the local pool. This seemed the best idea, an hour in the pool would exhaust any boy so I planned out the sitdown meal up in the party room with confidence. You didn't think i was going to get in the water, did you???

Exhausted, my right eye! They were up for more action the minute they'd changed. And trying to get the little buggers to sit down to cheese footballs and limp sandwiches, i tell you! It was 5C all over again but without Bernard Hedges and Potter. Although even Doris Ewell would be hard put to keep this little lot in order! The naughtiest boy suggested a food fight immediately. Husband put a complete stop to that one! Although, confidentially, if He hadn't been there, i would have let it go ahead. It would keep them occupied . And I would clean it up afterwards of course.

The way these kids speak to you! Honestly! Some kid yelled at me, I want more sausage rolls now! Pardon??? I blared at the little sod. Er - please, he mumbled. And another kid spoke to me like dirt and i shouted right at the little git. The annoying thing is they know how to behave really. I know there are some kids who have been dragged up and really don't know how to speak to people. But not these over-privilleged little bastards. But i mean really, would you have spoken to an adult like that? I mean i don't want my own childhood back, where i had to be seen but not heard, but kids are encouraged far too much to mouth off these days.

This is a disaster! Son pipes up as they fall on each other all around the room. But personally i didn't think it was. They seemed to be having the time of their lives!

And now for a really sad moment. Rose my cat. She's a beautiful creature and has given us joy for the last two and a half years. But lately she's been growling at us and she scratched me so badly today. And she's been hissing a lot too. We're almost frightened of her and we can't be under siege in our own home. Will take her to the vet on friday morning and see what she says. We don't want to lose her, she's a part of us. But we can't go on like this.

I know its wicked. But i would rather she was put down. I can't bear the thought of dumping her in some RSPCA centre and walking away from her. She would never get another home. RSPCA would be obliged to tell people why she's there.

Mustn't think about it anymore. Will wait to see what the vet says.