9 posts tagged “fear”
Mr FD's career change is making him very happy, and I suspect that is going to be dangerous for at least one of us...
He is so happy in fact that he has become compliant. Twice today he as acted the moment I have requested him to serve me. Sneaky mind games again. If I didn't know better I might think he was trying to murder me by overloading me with shock and awe. I came home from getting lost at our local mall extension and found that he had actually put his breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and not just on the bench.
If this level of happiness and contentment continues, what am I going to do? I feed off his suffering...god damn it, I may have to become one of those conceited, superior wives who croon about their husband's good behaviour - not something I am entirely comfortable with after all this time.
I am sure the wind will change tomorrow and the old Mr FD will resurface - no one could keep this level of happiness up for too long, especially at his age. Actually maybe I should clean my lens, maybe it is an imposter.
Yes the mighty Dr Slice and Dice is getting the joy of my presence this afternoon - and I his! I am so thrilled about the whole experience - oh yeah....not! I am a very brave person if I am asleep for any surgical procedure, and believe me I have had a few. This is the first time I will be conscious when they snip and stitch and I am not sure how brave I will be during the procedure. I figure though that if I want to yell and whimper that is my paying privlege. I am woman hear me cry!
In the meantime I am researching information on an assignment for my touchy feely unit. We are alllowed to choose our own area and set our own question through negotiation with the lecturer - just like real school! I am narrowing in on the subject of transformative classrooms and behaviour management, which I am coming to see are the keys to surviving the classroom for the teacher! To be more exact, I think I will look at something from the point of view "Authentic relationships between teacher and student form a central process in transformative learning in the classroom". I want a well ordered, user friendly, high functioning learning environment for my students - ah pipe dreams of the ignorant I hear all you teachers saying. Well, as Sister Mary Beat Them Up used to say, "if you aim high in life you can always settle for slightly less, but if you aim low you will never rise up". I believe it.
Mr FD has just called and informed me that he is on his way home from an overnight business trip to be my driver this afternoon. He is looking forward to meeting Dr Slice and Dice I can tell you! The word of the good doctor's sparkling personality and comforting bedside manner has excited Mr FD no end.
The distinguished GOF and I are in a quandry. GOF read my blog from late last week regarding my interchange with the elderly gentlemen who was buying a gift for his wife. GOF asked How could a man ever perform a similiar kindness? Or if a man detected that a woman, a stranger, was feeling low, how could he ever offer her words of understanding with being viewed as having evil intent?
I have thought about this all evening, and I must admit that I am a little tired after my day's adventures, but I am yet to come up with an adequate reply. A man can no longer say "you look lovely today" to a female colleague without running the possibility of his words being viewed as sexual harassment. Yet, a woman can say, "you look dashing today" to a male and all is fine.
I know I would welcome such a kindness from a man. I like it when they hold doors open for me. I always reply with a smile and a clear thank you, as I know that men find it very confusing as to what their role is these days.
A few months ago, when I was wearing my neck collar, I was standing outside the physiotherapist's office. I had cause to wipe my eye with a tissue. A man walking by got the impression that I may have been crying and so, as he passed me he said, "Don't worry, tomorrow is sure be better". He didn't stop, he just spoke as he walked by. Even though I was not upset, I was very touched that he had taken the time to care - well obviously I must have been to be mentioning it here now.
I have consoled a male work colleague by placing an arm around his shoulder. He could never do the same. Some of the implied permission comes with age. Once a woman reaches middle age and starts to be viewed less sexually, she can adopt the role of confident and friend, offer compliments and shoulders to cry one. I think a man can to, once he has hit a certain age - but at a later age than a woman, maybe retiring age. Men appear less "dangerous" as they age don't they? Whether that be true or not is all in the perspective, but we all commented how lovely it was for Emjay to sit on the stairs and spend time with her old male neighbour last week, but would our comments have been the same if Emjay had said he was a young man?
GOF suggested that men are not as sensitive as women to instances where assistance or support, physical or verbal, are required and so often to fail to offer any. I agree to a degree. I also suspect that we have conditioned men "not to go there". Generations have been told that men don't cry, and that men must be men and all the "gooey" emotional stuff is women's business. That is going to take a long time to rewrite.
But don't we all have times when we just need a smile, or a helping hand, don't we? It is sad to think that pure hearts that would like to offer it have barriers placed in front of them. How can a middle ground be found? Or is it just an out and out impossibility for one half of the human race?
I have perfected bitter and twisted in the workplace to a fine art.
I may go on the road with it.
No job news – for anyone in the Basement of Discontent
We helped Daughter 2 move into her new apartment on Saturday. At times I felt like I was held captive by an alien species never before identified by man nor woman. I was instructed to wait at our house until the removalists came by and picked up all the items she wanted from our house. Once they left I was to text her and let her know that they were on their way to her old place to pick up the boxes there.
I handled that okay, but then it was to be action stations and we were all to jump in various cars and make our way to the new apartment to await further instructions. I was ready… I was too scared not to be. However her various siblings thought otherwise. Daughter 1 thought it was the day to sort out her taxes with her accountant which were to have been filed June 30th and so disappeared. Son, well Son was asleep in his cryogenic chamber and despite my escalating hysteria refused to gather the momentum, or interest that I was trying to instil into him from his doorway. Eventually Daughter 1 returned and so we left, but not before I gathered a ratchet and waved it at Son from his doorway and distinctly stated “I am taking this ratchet, you bring the other tools that you need to put together the desk and beds.” I said it twice just to make sure I got the message across.
If you are wondering why I chose the ratchet as my weapon of choice, it is very simple – it was lying in the middle of the living room floor, which is where all good ratchets go to lie.
Daughter 1 and I raced to the new apartment – and we were there before either Daughter 2, or the moving men arrived.. We sat in the afternoon heat thanking the Big Whatever that we had slipped under the radar.
Daughter 2 arrived. We all went upstairs and waited. The van was right behind her…and we waited and we waited . They had to go three streets from old to new apartment. Over 20 minutes later they arrived. I leaned from the balcony going “yoooohooo, here! Yooooohooo, hoy” in my best motherly fashion to attract the moving men and to halt their wandering up and down the street looking for the right number. They recognised the weird woman in the neck collar from their first pickup and so pulled in
About this time Mr FD phones and says that there is yet another severe weather warning and to take cover. Daughter2’s new apartment has only a single garage. Mother Flamingo Dancer has a brilliant stroke of genius, yet again, and I send Daughter 1 over to the old apartment to sit in the double garage there. I also intercepted Son and told him to go there also. We sit out the storm…
Daughter 2 then goes and collects her siblings so their cars can stay under cover and we all set too. Son asks for the tools. I show him the ratchet. He did not bring over any others…He has a desk, two beds and a flat screen television to assemble.
Mother Flamingo to the fore once more as she remembers giving Daughter 2 a little floral hammer that is a handy little tool that is in fact 5 different tools in one. Daughter 2 locates and hands it to her brother who sets to the task with a screw driver not much longer than his thumb nail. He had the good sense not to complain however.
Incapacitated as I was, and having already contributed so much brain power, I was given the momentous task of washing the dishes and cutlery as they were unpacked. Daughter 1 is obviously more trust worthy than I and was allowed to actually place the clean items in the kitchen cupboards. She was also allowed to make up Daughter2’s bed so that D2 could fall into it that night.
Daughter 1 said to her sister that she need to leave about 5pm. Her sister apparently looked like she was going to rip her sister’s throat out at any moment, but agreed she could, but also apparently hissed “but not Mum”. Daughter 1, bless her, slipped into a corner and warned me that I was under threat of death, so I made a big show of waving off Daughter 1 and giving Son redundant advice on assembling the television with his thumb nail size screw driver.
We were allowed out of our cell a little after 6pm. Ah the sweet smell of freedom. We had survived, thank God Almighty, we had survived!
Her lease is up in 6 months
I told a lie yesterday, To my mother. And now the universe it poking me with a big stick. I told my mother that I would not allow my sister and brother-in-law to drive home last night after the storm. They did however drive home. They are 58 and 67 years old, I think they can make their own decisions. So drove home they did.
My mother rang at 5.30 this morning. She wanted to know if my sister would be home to take her to her medial appointment later today. I don’t know what Mum thought we were going to do today, maybe go to the beach or something like you do on a work day. I said they “had left a little while ago” and would be there to take her to the doctor. Twelve hours ago can be a “little while” ago right?
So I lied my head off to my mother and then had to turn around and phone sister, who no doubt as she does not work outside the home would have still been in bed, and tell my sister to keep up the charade. For Mum’s sake. Please, I’ll let you borrow my clothes if you just don’t tell Mum!
We lied to protect Mum from her own fears and anxieties, so that is ok, right? My real fear is that now, some 50 years from the womb, that I may develop a propensity to lie to my one surviving parent. Not that I had a plethora of parents to lie to previously, just the two, but Dad couldn’t even remember my age when I was growing up, so lying would never have been needed with him anyway. And towards the end he couldn’t even remember me at all so that kind of swept the slate clean!
This is a side of caring for oldies that no one ever warns you about, a bit like when you give birth no one warns you that you will have to teach them to drive and allow them to take the family car one day. When your parents age sometimes you have to lie to keep them happy.
I am not good at lying. I am ok at the old “of course you look fine in that god awful dress” lie. That is being polite. The other stuff, lying about your sister, that is going to be a little harder. And remembering the lie to keep the farce going is a bit of a long order too. My daughters have told me that they will teach me the tricks. Apparently they have it down pat. As I am the mother they must have been lying to all this time, I am not sure how I should take that little bit of information.
Maybe I will ask them to lie about their lying just to keep me calm and happy too. Ignorance is indeed parental bliss.
Life Lesson 947: It is alright to lie to your mother if it will save her suffering, and you can hide your tracks.
And if I am not struck by a bolt of heavenly lighting today I may be back tomorrow with another life lesson.
Almost one hundred thousand homes and businesses have been blacked out by severe thunderstorms and destructive winds in south east Queensland.
60 thousand homes in Brisbane's north have been affected by a slow moving storm cell which hit the region late this afternoon.
Another 20 thousand customers are without power in other parts of Brisbane and there is seven and a half thousand in the dark on the Gold Coast.
Some customers may have to wait until tomorrow before their power is restored.
Energex, the main power provider in the region, has recorded three and a half thousand direct lightning strikes on its facilities.
The weather bureau has also received reports of golf-ball sized hail in the Gold Coast hinterland, with roofs being torn off houses at Canungra and Brisbane residents have reported heavy rainfall and flash flooding.
It was even hotter today and the humidity hit 94% when the storms came up. It was dark as night late afternoon as the rain started. We were lucky and only got heavy rain but as you can see from the news item above, many areas of south east Queensland got a quite destructive storm. We got 42mls of rain in about half and hour. We heard one report on the news that the hail stones ran from the size of a golf ball to the size of a tennis ball! We did not get hail, thank heavens, just a lovely drink for the garden and the rain water tanks refllled!
My sister and her husband came for afternoon tea and stayed for dinner due to the weather. Our mother was suppose to come but she heard the forcast of rain and refused to leave home. We had a lovely afternoon gossiping and due to mother's absence could roll our eyes and gossip about her too! She is getting a bit difficult these days - she apparently is thinking of going into a retirement home! I think she is playing with my sister's mind as I cannot see her voluntarily going into a home, though I think it would be much better for her...we will see which way the wind blows on that one!
We saw the news reports of the storm on the evening news and I turned to my sister and said "Mum is about to phone" and I no sooner finished the sentence and the phone rang. Mum! She was near hysterical as she had seen the same news report of what happened but in her mind she was recreating it as about to happen all over again. Sister and I played tag on the phone calming her down and I had to promise not to let sister drive home that night! We said "oh no" and then after checking the weather radar online and seeing the storms were well away from the area, sister and brother in law drove home. We will let mother think they are here until tomorrow. Mum has always had a dreadful fear of storms, and I once read that it is a fear held by many people of German descent, but as she has aged Mum's fear has become worse. Actually in a lot of ways she is no coping well and developing all sorts of anxieties and fears. I think this modern world is a bit confusing to her.
Well, when she was born in 1927 the Great Depression has not yet happened. She rode a horse to school and helped milk the dairy cows by hand. She finished school at the end of the 7th grade like most children did in those days and went home to help on the family farm until she married my father at the age of 21. She never worked outside the home in paid employment and has lived in our family home for 52 years. No wonder the world causes her anxiety. It must indeed be frightening to her. I think it is terrible how old age catches up and skills are lost and the daily things become so hard.
It doesn't seem fair after a life time of caring and doing and striving and living, to have your world diminish as you age. It is great to say "Oh I wont be like that I will make sure I keep current" but it isn't so easy. Physically you change, body and mind. and try as you might you can't stop that. You can slow it a little, but the aging process over rides so much.
I don't mean to sound depressing or discouraging, but it is just so sad to see someone you love watch turn into a shadow of themselves through no fault of their own.
Old Time, that greatest and longest established spinner of all!.... his factory is a secret place, his work is noiseless, and his hands are mutes. ~Charles Dickens
and on a happier note
While I was on the phone talking to Mum I walked outside to check the rain guage and found a very bedraggled curlew standing in our drive way! It was so wet and looked so sad. It didn't look at all concerned that I was standing some 20 feet away nattering on the phone. It eventually walked calmly across the road and towards the bushland just over from our house. It was then that I saw its mate standing next to the trees on a neighbours allotment. I was able to go back inside and drag Mr FD away from the television to identify the bird for me. I never have any idea but he seems to know all types of birds and animals. So we both stood there watching for some time and then he went back inside and then BIL and Sister came out, one by one, to look. The both of our daughters. It was a family affair, everyone taking a peek at the curlew pair, who still ignored us and seemed to be concentrating deeply on picking off the worms and grubs that were popping up out of the sodden lawns. Magical. We are so lucky to have the bushland so close to our ourselves and to have the gift of all the birds. I am gald that we all got together and fought the Catholis Church and stopped them from selling off the land for high density apartments. We got the council to buy the land and keep it as a nature reserve,.. never to be developed. Our little but for the planet. And watching the culews was our reward.
Eventually I remembered I still had Mum on the phone and went back to our conversation!
Bears are bored by bloated boars!
The gargling gargoyle gargles with glee.
Awful old Ollie oils oily autos.
Fred the friar, frying flounder.
The zitherist plays his sister's zither
Recite them next time you are placed on call waiting - if you are overheard muttering away from the other end of the line, they may just think you are one sandwich short of a picnic (deranged) and actually help you with your problem, first time around!
In my thoughts I fear that I am less that what I think I am,
In my heart I know I am much more...
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