Errors in my verbal garbage

Clearly, my writing/typing/story telling techniques are failing miserably. This has absolutely sweet nothing to do with the fact that my fingers are practically frozen stiff and that my ability to type resembles that of a poor soul who has broken all ten fingers and is uncomfortably attempting to master a keyboard with all digits in casts and splints, but more to do with the fact that I have a secret proof reader hidden in my PC that seems to believe that what I have been attempting to express over the last few days has been nothing short of verbal garbage and as a result you have spent the last 10 days watching little Snuggle Bug sleeping peacefully on the sofa.

Imagine my frustration when every page that I have masterfully...HA HA HA...put together over the past few days has posted as ERROR and just wouldn't upload or download or load, whatever, you get the idea. While I have been tapping away awkwardly in an attempt to get my 2 cents out there, my little proof reader is thinking; crap, garbage, can't believe she is going to tell the world that, what the hell is she thinking there is no way I am going to justify that with the time and space required to upload it and spits out a big fat error message.

Well, little proof reader hiding in my PC, this is for you, lets see what you do with this little slice of masterfully created garbage.

Quiet please, beauty sleep in progress.

Poor Bug was desperately trying to get some peace and quiet so that he could catch up on an afternoon nap.
Well, I guess we can give him points here for improvising. Five minutes, perhaps not even, and he was lights out.
Mom's cutie little Snuggle Bug.

Office hours only please.

I have had the wonderful experience lately of having to deal with the banks...hhhmmm....yeah, wonderful...cough...not... Anyway, perhaps it has just been my awful mood lately, yes, I admit, I get moods, but I have had a few phone calls and SMS's from people and institutions after hours and on weekends. I am not sure about you but this freaks me out to no end.

I answered hubby's phone one Saturday afternoon.

Caller: "Can I speak to Mr. Hubby?"
Me: "He's not available right now, who is calling please?"
Caller: "This is so-n-so from the bank."

I explain that I am Mrs. Hubby and ask what it is I can do for him.

Caller: "I need to speak to him regarding such and such, can he please call me back?"
Me: "Sure."

I take down his details and relevant reference numbers etc.

Me: "Can he call you as soon as he returns?" Knowing what the answer will be.
Caller: "He can phone back on Monday after 8.30am."

My blood begins to boil and poor caller gets it.

Me: "Please tell me, why it is that you can inconvenience me on my weekend and after hours, yet I am only able to make any queries with your institution during office hours?"
Caller: "Often when we call people during the day, they are too busy to speak to us."

I'm thinking, conveniently I am sure!

Me: "Tell me." I'm ready for him. "If I call you during office hours and you are busy, surely I would just have to hold until you're available?" (And listen to some very boring announcements and or music and a huge cost to my phone bill while I am on hold awaiting your attention?)
Caller: " Yes, that is right." Beginning to sound very sheepish.
Me: "Well, I guess that settles it then, if you need to speak to my husband during office hours and he is unfortunately a little too busy to speak to you, then I am afraid you will just have to hold. O.K?"
Caller: "O.K. Thank you."

And with that, a very speedy good bye.

It really infuriates me when institutions call me after hours, when they would not be prepared to accommodate me and my enquiries at those hours; when people send me messages as late at 10pm, informing me that my account is overdue (by like a day!). Excuse me, thank you very much but piss off and phone me Monday to Fridays 8.30am to 5pm and if I am busy, you can hold!

Love letters

Kade has been enjoying our Church's Holiday Bible Club this week and yesterday they were invited to write a letter to someone. This is my "Love Letter" from my son. It reads.....

Mom you my favourite Mom in my heart.

I really love you a lot.

I am really happy it you my Mom.

Now isn't that enough to just make your heart turn to mush and your knees go weak?

Above all else

I've sat here a few times in the last week trying to find words to express the way I've been feeling lately and, well, it's been a little too hard. The truth is, the horrible truth, is that my marriage is in serious trouble. I find it really hard to accept that after almost 20 years together it has come to this. One would think that if you have made it this far as a couple then it should be smooth sailing from here on, after all, what more could you go through that hasn't already been tried and tested and boy have we been tried and tested. We always came out on top, but some how, this time it isn't as easy.

I am not going to blame him or accuse him, he has his faults but I am not going to fool anyone by proclaiming to be the perfect wife either, if anything, after reading my posts, you have come to realise that most of me is just downright balmy, intense, anal and at times probably rather annoying. Perhaps those parts of me have become to much for him. Perhaps unconditional love develops conditions and the person you believed to have loved all this time becomes nothing more than an irritation, a burden, who knows.

There are things in my life which I choose not to discuss, perhaps an entry on post secrets would reveal my sadness and pain and rid of it in a web of peoples lies, deceits and deep dark secrets, where it can anonymously slip out of my life and into oblivion. I have no friends to share my pain, this blog is my outlet, my diary, my best friend albeit a quiet, unresponsive, gossip that tells everyone everything, just like people do anyway.

I'm not asking for sympathy, God knows I've contributed to the problems too, I only hope and pray that we can get through this and manage at least convince him that we are worth fighting for.

Missed and never forgotten

My Dearest Brother Grant who would have celebrated his 30th Birthday today. We love you still and miss you more than ever. Until we meet again.

Grant Andrews 23.06.1978 - 09.08.1999
This was the very last photograph I took of my brother 2 months before he died.

Celebrate good times

We all had a great weekend of celebrating. Madam Fluff was so very excited about Father's Day, she could hardly contain herself and I had to practically muzzle her each time she almost let slip what Daddy was getting for Father's Day. It was actually very cute and it was easy enough to forgive her because I remember being just as bad at keeping surprises as a child; I have, thankfully, improved with age. Poor hubby has his birthday in June too so Father's Day gifts are usually home made cards and gadgets (I think Bug finished all the glue) and the ever faithful socks, jocks, biltong and chocolates which the kids pounced on him with gusto before both his eyes are open. Unfortunately it was a bit of a miserable day outside so we chose to spend the day indoors cooking and watching DVD's.

Monday was my turn to get pounced on before I had opened my eyes. The mixed matched melody of Happy Birthday ringing in my ears and prezzies thrown unsuspectingly onto my half asleep body, brought on day two of the celebrations. The kids had a blast ripping open my presents to show me what they had all bought and we spent another relaxing day together.

Madam Fluff sought every opportunity at the restaurant we went to for lunch to tell every person within earshot that not only was it her Mom's birthday but...hello...."My Mom is 34 years old today!" Where was that muzzle, I didn't find myself as forgiving for this outburst. Fluff and Kade then told Daddy to instruct the waiter to sing happy birthday to me, to which I duly warned loving Hubby that any sparkler detected within a 5m radius would be unceremoniously shoved up his nostril, needless to say, there was no singing at the restaurant! Oh well, I suspect we all need a lesson in learning to grow old gracefully and sooner is better than later!