don’t tell me I’m being stupid until you’ve seen these things yourself

The depths of uncertainty

by Veronica on January 29, 2013

in Evelyn

Some days I wake up and I’m sure everything is going to be terrible. Plagues of locusts; hordes of zombies; houses imploding – that kind of terrible. Those mornings are the easiest in a way, because when everything fails to go wrong then I can be pleasantly surprised. I’ll look around and realise that I’ve drunk an entire cup of tea before it went cold and my toast is still warm; that the garden is still intact and everyone under my watch is still alive and realise that maybe it’s all going to be okay.

Other days, I’m wrapped in the warm cotton wool of certainty. Everything is going to be fine. Of course it is. Nothing worse than spilled milk and cereal on the floor is going to happen and we’ll all make it to bedtime happy and healthy.

And then there are the days that crack like eggshells, going from everything is going to be fine to holy fuck, nothing is ever going to be the same again.

I’m talking about Evelyn of course. I’m always talking about Evelyn lately. All I ever fucking talk about is this baby and whether her issues will resolve and what those issues are and how we can help.

I get smacked in the face sometimes by her issues, because it’s easy to forget, wrapped in this warm cotton wool, that everything is not okay and that our future is not certain. It’s easy to forget that she is six months old [oh god oh god, she’s six months old and look at her, will someone just fucking LOOK AT HER and tell me with their magic crystal ball what our fucking future is like please] and that she is not progressing as normally as we’d all like.

Sure, she’s not missing everything yet, but she’s not rolling over anymore and so that milestone doesn’t count because it’s not something she added to her repertoire. She’s not babbling. She’s not using both her hands effectively. She’s barely using her right hand at all. She only manages to put things in her mouth 30% of the time. Her right leg kicks repeatedly. She has very little control over her body.

And yes, I know that the optimists in the audience will point out that at least she is doing some things, some of the time. Trust me, I know how to count my blessings here. I also watch her and worry and it’s a hard worry to push down, because I mention small things she’s doing to her Paediatrician [her tongue trembles sometimes, and not in a feeding flutter, but a tremor] and he looks worried, but also pleased that it doesn’t happen all of the time, but still, he was worried and her tongue still trembles and I think it’s getting worse, but who knows? I spend so much time just WATCHING this baby that I don’t even know what is important anymore. Her desire to be a starfish [jerk all limbs outwards, arch back and screech because that is NOT what you wanted your body to do] or her twitching while she’s asleep [non-epileptic paroxysmal episodes, that look like complex partial seizures] or her jerky movements or or or or….

It’s just, enough already. I need a crystal ball and to stop being smacked in the face by the possibility that none of this will be okay.

I mean sure, it might all be perfect in six months, but you’ve got to give my brain props for showing me that it might just get a whole lot worse.

Thanks brain. I couldn’t do this without you.

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ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS!!!

by Veronica on June 18, 2012

in Gotta Laugh

Forget Australia’s borders and the supposed problems with “Boat People” arriving, we’ve got a major security breach over here that needs addressing.

This photo was taken from the window near my computer, looking out into my small fenced yard. This yard is Out Of Bounds to ducks, due to the pooing nature of them. But apparently, they’ve chosen to ignore the warning signs, the guard dog, the small children gate keepers and the fence, in favour of eating the grass close to the house.

I am Not Impressed and harsh measures will be taken.

Anyone for duck confit? Roast duck?

I’m tough on border breaches here.

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These are intolerable working conditions.

by Veronica on November 3, 2011

in Animals, Gotta Laugh

[Video: Now with captions]

Internet, I give you the baby birds that are screeching above my desk. BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO SUFFER WITH ME.

These working conditions are intolerable. I’ve tried complaining to the groundskeeper and maintenance man (Nathan) but he tells me his hands are tied and I need to discuss the issue with pest control (The Cats).

Either way, nothing is getting done and my ears are hurting.

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My house appears to be ever so slightly, haunted

by Veronica on July 9, 2011

in Headfuck

When my grandmother was dying, she saw fairies dancing in the painting hung at the foot of her bed. She saw a little brown dog curled up on the couch and a few days before she went into hospital, she insisted that there was a cat inside her house, despite her cat being outside.

People were very quick to say that she was hallucinating because of the medication and I’m not going to say that they’re wrong. I’m also not going to say that what Nan saw didn’t exist.

A few weeks after her death, while we were cleaning out her house, I saw the ghost cat too. I nearly tripped over it in fact, and dodged, because I saw a cat, which then ran under the table. A cat that didn’t exist, except that it looked like a cat my grandmother had owned previously. An hour later, I saw the same cat/ghost, out of the corner of my eye again.

I believe in ghosts. I always have and there is very little you can say to dissuade me. I have been to Sarah Island and felt the anger and sadness emanating from the convict walls there and the waves of cold and anger that boil through the paths. I have been scared spitless, on a path at Port Arthur, just knowing that it felt wrong.

I believe and I don’t care if you don’t.

When we bought our house, I was very careful to make sure there was no “bad feel” anywhere in the house. And while it felt cold and damp and in need of renovating, it never felt like we shouldn’t be here and I never felt like we ought to leave.

We bought this place over three years ago now. Since then, time and money have conspired against us and we’ve managed to do very little in the way of renovations, short of clearing up the indoor pond and getting the kitchen and bathroom floor replaced.

What has happened though, are enough small things that I am starting to seriously believe that we have a ghost.

A while back, Nathan and I were sitting watching TV, when the dining room light began to flick on and off. Not a minor flicker, but on and off, for around a minute, before the globe blew.

The doors will open and close occasionally, with no rhyme, or reason. Suddenly, they’ll just slam open, or shut.

We have the things that fall off benches, a full beer that threw itself and landed a good metre from the table and a few other niggly things that have me declaring “It’s the ghost” and Nathan rolling his eyes at me.

My brother heard footsteps through the kitchen when he was staying here one night and thought that I was walking around. On inspection, he was the only one awake.

I’ve been touched, twice. Both times cold and strangely not scary. Once on the shoulder as I stood in front of the mirror, and once on the cheek as I was laying in bed.

It’s spooky and it’s occasionally creepy and I absolutely believe that we have a ghost.

Earlier today, after my friend and her children had left, Nathan and I were sitting in our bedroom chatting. To my left there is a closet, with stuff being stored on top of it. One of those things is a lamp with a glass shade.

As we were talking, one of the panes of glass in the shade shattered, like an explosion.

There was nothing putting stress on the glass (it’s a loose frame type thing) and nothing fell on it. It just, broke.

Which is yet another thing to add to our “we’ve got a ghost” files.

Frankly, if we had the money, I’d seriously consider selling this house to move to a less haunted place. Not that there is anything wrong with sharing real estate with a ghost, I’d just prefer I wasn’t getting touched and having lamp shades shatter.

What about you? Do you believe in ghosts?

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