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An update on the Sparky
Nov. 22nd, 2007 01:58 amAh so much has happened. First my pills have been refilled (Sparky is up to about 90% operating functionality and is severely irritated about that last 10 bloody percent!) and health is apparently going to be restored eventually.
On the family drama, we now have tenants in our house. (Anti-social me screams in fury!) Why why why why would I invite my brother to stay while he got his house sorted? Well, part of it is I don’t want my brother to be staying with a distant relative or hotel for the upcoming Yule (because that’s all kind of nasty) but mainly because he was living with our parents.
Now, my parents are wonderful, wonderful, amazing people who I love to the nth degree and would happily wrestle rabid wolverines for. But sharing roof space with them is.... enervating. I’d rather not spend my yule visiting my parents’ grave and my brother in prison.
First there is dear madre with her cleaning drama obsession. Put down a cup of coffee for second? ZOOOM! *Gust of wind* your coffee is gone! Actually it has been poured away and the cup has been cleaned and while you blinked she has returned to polishing the skirting boards (possibly for the third time today) or the COAL in the FIREPLACE. Yes, yes, she polished COAL! COAL PEOPLE! See, I am a clean freak, but even I couldn’t stand then endless pass of the hoover on its hourly run.
Then there is Padre with his ‘organisation.’ See, he is UTTERLY unable to deal with any kind of surprise or crisis, he crumbles completely. To deal with this he plans and make lists. The Normandy invasion did not have as much planning as simple trip to the shops. You find yourself going out only to find a deluge of lists bombarded on you “have you made a contingency plan to fend of rampaging Camel-monkeys? NO?! Quick, we shall make a list of essential equipment!” Of course, the lists disappear as they are rapidly cleaned away as soon as anyone stops touching them, then new lists must be drawn.
And then there’s the complete lack of privacy - not as in going through post or anything like that, but incessant questions. It’s not in a teenaged “where are you going, I hope you’re back by 11:00!” kind of questions, but more genuine interest. They see absolutely no reason why you WOULDN’T want to discuss every letter, email, phone call, friend, night out with them. Sounds harmless enough but when every single little thing you do comes with a bombardment of polite, interested, well meant questions? Gah, do not want.
And then there’s... well, there’s a lot and I could go on for posts and posts about innumerable irritations. Suffice it to say. The brother needed rescuing.
Still it does mean I’ve spent the last few days ferrying junk from his house to mine. You would not believe the amount of things my brother considers necessary for life and limb - and this is from me, the most materially dependent person EVER!
There are consolations, however. Brother is generally respectful of my desperate reclusiveness and doesn’t push it, he also comes with the extra-pretty kitty (who can move her extra pretty self OFF my bed, thank you) and while he does hit our cupboards like marauding huns, he does come with the bonus offset of actually being able to cook. This? Makes up for the annoyance. Yes, yes it does. Reports of fabulous food will follow :)
On the family drama, we now have tenants in our house. (Anti-social me screams in fury!) Why why why why would I invite my brother to stay while he got his house sorted? Well, part of it is I don’t want my brother to be staying with a distant relative or hotel for the upcoming Yule (because that’s all kind of nasty) but mainly because he was living with our parents.
Now, my parents are wonderful, wonderful, amazing people who I love to the nth degree and would happily wrestle rabid wolverines for. But sharing roof space with them is.... enervating. I’d rather not spend my yule visiting my parents’ grave and my brother in prison.
First there is dear madre with her cleaning drama obsession. Put down a cup of coffee for second? ZOOOM! *Gust of wind* your coffee is gone! Actually it has been poured away and the cup has been cleaned and while you blinked she has returned to polishing the skirting boards (possibly for the third time today) or the COAL in the FIREPLACE. Yes, yes, she polished COAL! COAL PEOPLE! See, I am a clean freak, but even I couldn’t stand then endless pass of the hoover on its hourly run.
Then there is Padre with his ‘organisation.’ See, he is UTTERLY unable to deal with any kind of surprise or crisis, he crumbles completely. To deal with this he plans and make lists. The Normandy invasion did not have as much planning as simple trip to the shops. You find yourself going out only to find a deluge of lists bombarded on you “have you made a contingency plan to fend of rampaging Camel-monkeys? NO?! Quick, we shall make a list of essential equipment!” Of course, the lists disappear as they are rapidly cleaned away as soon as anyone stops touching them, then new lists must be drawn.
And then there’s the complete lack of privacy - not as in going through post or anything like that, but incessant questions. It’s not in a teenaged “where are you going, I hope you’re back by 11:00!” kind of questions, but more genuine interest. They see absolutely no reason why you WOULDN’T want to discuss every letter, email, phone call, friend, night out with them. Sounds harmless enough but when every single little thing you do comes with a bombardment of polite, interested, well meant questions? Gah, do not want.
And then there’s... well, there’s a lot and I could go on for posts and posts about innumerable irritations. Suffice it to say. The brother needed rescuing.
Still it does mean I’ve spent the last few days ferrying junk from his house to mine. You would not believe the amount of things my brother considers necessary for life and limb - and this is from me, the most materially dependent person EVER!
There are consolations, however. Brother is generally respectful of my desperate reclusiveness and doesn’t push it, he also comes with the extra-pretty kitty (who can move her extra pretty self OFF my bed, thank you) and while he does hit our cupboards like marauding huns, he does come with the bonus offset of actually being able to cook. This? Makes up for the annoyance. Yes, yes it does. Reports of fabulous food will follow :)