...FOR THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGING...

I had to share these two photos with you. The first one is my mother holding Brian, my son when he was 4 days old.

The second, he is holding my mother 20 years later at the age of 24.

This is a beautiful illustration of how life changes, and who we become. Family is very importand. If you are blessed with a loving family, treasurer them and treat them well, caring for them and love them at all times, never taking them for granted.

I hope that my family does not think that I take them for granted, because I appreciate every little thing they do for me during these difficult times, and love them dearly for it.

CHRISTMAS FROM THE PAST

The Pictures you see above are 22 years old. It was taken in 1987 when my own children, who are grown now with children of their own, were small and experiencing the wonders of Christmas.

In both pictures Lisa is standing next to the tree. She has a 6 year old daughter today. Kerry has the blue nighty on, she has a daughter of 11, son of 9 and daughter of 15 months. Shirley has the pony tail and has 2 daughters today, one 11 years and one of 9 years. The toddler is my son who was 2 in the photo and is 24 now expecting his first child next year.

My husband and I spend christmas quietly now, but it was not always that way.

In years gone by I clearly remember that magical time of year when the excitement mounts as young children help unearth the decorations for the christmas tree. Dad brings it home and a home is found for it in the lounge. Half the furniture has to be rearranged first. The arguments also begin and EVERYONE wants to put the Angel on the top of the tree. We needed 4 headed christmas trees and 4 angels to keep the peace.

There is a last minute flurry as children wrap gifts for one another - sticky tape, scissors and paper are passed from room to room, cries of "don't peep" or "don't come in" come from everywhere. The mood is festive, christmas carols play in the background and everyone sings along in the foreground.

All the mess this exercise has left in its wake is cleared away.

Then each one places their own presents under the tree......MAAAAAAAAAAA.....TELL EVERYONE TO STOP READING THE LABELS!

Whew - I am exhausted. Isn't it bedtime already?

Don't forget the mince pie and beer for father christmas. Beer? Just imagine how muddled he would be if he partook of everyone's hospitality!

Guess what.....THEY ALL HAVE INSOMNIA........ and are trying to figure out ways that they can all catch a peek of father christmas as he shins down the chimney with his sack of goodies and distributes them under the tree.

Dad and I can now do our part. We put the gifts we have, for which father christmas gets credit for, under the tree, dad eats half the pie and drinks some of the beer. That is ALWAYS the first thing they check on. It validates the existence of father christmas for them somehow, I think " be children for a little longer, believe in such things, the real world can be a harsh place and you will be in it for the rest of your lives. As you go through life you will learn to accept that all things move to their end, everything you have and hold you must in time also let go."

But not tonight.

SNAKES ALIVE!!

My daughter Shirley posted a picture of a black snake on her blog the other day. She and her children had come across it.

I am NOT a snake fan but nevetheless was taken by my mind back to that quaint village, Triangle, where we spent a few years of our lives during the Rhodesian war.

We had a couple of incidences ourselves concerning these creatures I would prefer to be far from, like another planet.

The first that comes to mind was a day I had had a procedure done at the local hospital so was sleeping off the anaesthetic.

The maid had taken the children on a "picnic". Translation of picnic during those times : An enjoyable outdoor exercise where one lays a blanket on the ground, takes a basket of yummy treats and juice, and enjoys the outdoor air. Picnics ONLY took place within the safety of ones own garden as to venture further would be dangerous and leave one open to hostile attack by terrorists. I'm very serious.

After the picnic, the blanket had been shaken out, folded and returned to its cupboard.

That evening my husband casually called me out of my stupor, summoning me to GET OUT OF BED (he has lost his mind I thought to myself), does he not remember I am on a serious trip right now and my mind is befuddled with left over anaesthetic.

I followed the voice, using the walls as support, and ....EEEEEEKKKKKK..... He was holding the cupboard door closed, and protruding from it was a snake. The snake had obviously been wrapped up in the blanket and deposited in the cupboard. He was probably casing the joint to find his way out and get his bearings as the last he remembered he was in the garden! We returned him to the garden. He was not very big.

The second incident was during lunch one day and we were all sitting aroung the dining room table. We had a large tree growing outside the dining room window. We all watched in silence as the thickest and longest python we had ever seen slowly slithered down the tree. I could almost read his thoughts "don't mess with me" and as I had no intention of one of my small children becoming his dinner, we phoned the local police. They dispatched a man with a rifle.

By now we were all at the kitchen door as "monty python" slid past. The policeman took aim and fired - missed. Lisa was 2, this was sport for her, she threw her arms in the air and yelled "YAY!" Undeterred the cop fired a second time, missed. (Glad my life did not depend upon him for protection). Lisa once again repeated her little performance of cheering and "YAY'! (like people do when their favourite rugby side scores a try). I still see her standing there in her training pants with "if it's sticky I'll have it" printed on the back, and her long blond hair almost to her waist.

Third shot hits its mark. We were told to be careful as they have partners and that his may come looking for him. Sure enough, 2 days later his partner was found run over in the road outside our property.

I was always sorry that it was necessary to take the action we did, but he was a danger to my small children and we had no way of knowing where he lived and there were no snake catchers around.

I love animals and small creatures, but I really can't do snakes.

LET YOUR YES BE YES AND YOUR NO BE NO

We have just returned from the orthopaedic clinic at the hospital. So what. This is what.

A stroke patient has a confused mind from time to time, and it is at its worse when under stress. Many conditions manifest themselves more noticeably during times of stress and frustration.

We were amidst hundreds of people waiting to hand the file in at the dispensary, where it will wend its way through the hands of, I hope, of very capable pharamacists, and come out at the other end with all the medication in a packet.

We were waiting at this counter when I discovered that I had mislaid my receipt, without which I cannot collect anything as the meds are handed over upon production of this receipt. I wanted to go and get another one, so I told my patient to wait where he was. "don't leave me here" he says clinging to the counter. I attempt to prize him loose and take him with me. That brought forth a more panicked response, 'Leave me here, you will be quicker' comes the reply from this head shaking, counter gripping panicked being. "I ASKED YOU THAT **....!! I screech.

Ah, I have seen this many times before I think to myself. I get him to focus and ask 'is that a no no, a no yes, a yes yes or a yes no? Make any sense to you? No, I didn't think so.
I leave him and go to collect a new receipt, we have several pairs of eyes watching us, all part of the entertainment one sees in a hospital such as this, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary and everthing seems to be normal because no one knows what normal is anymore. but I am
MAD.

The cherry on the cake is that he denies shaking his head because for some reason, beyond my understanding and my zero knowledge of brains, he really cannot tell the difference. Not yet.

That was my morning and so I am here in my haven where everything makes sense, even this stupid computer who loses my emails and its marbles, has meltdowns, and then just tells me "server cannot be found" which it has been doing for the best part of the rest of this day.

I'll try again tomorrow.

LOOK WHAT I CAN DO

I have wanted to learn how to cut and paste for ages, so a friend of mine gave me a lesson just now, and I feel 10 feet tall, like I did when I first left the internet cafe my daughter Kerry took me into to get me started with all this.

It all seemed so hard at the time, but with practice it all became easier and a lot of fun. Right now, this is hard, but hopefully I will be able to steal photos from my daughters' blogs to show you. This is a photo of a 'little pony' birthday cake, which my daughter Lisa had made for Natalia, aged 6, in July of this year.

Now if I can remember how this was done (it is all written down letter for painful letter) you will see more photos.