Well it was a quiet Christmas. Christmas Day was pretty ghastly, to be honest as Dad was in one of his worst moods and arguing with me whatever I said. It’s difficult to explain how he is, he’s not completely ga-ga as it were, he obviously thinks he’s quite compos mentis in his own head but he has no logical centre, or is losing it. He’ll put a dinner plate in his underwear drawer and then when I say “why did you put this in here?” he’ll say “I didn’t” and if I were to push it he’d be two steps from shouting me out of the house. So I no longer ask and I no longer push. On Christmas Day I was in the kitchen and said “please can you get me the breadknife” and he handed me a wooden spoon, “is this what you wanted?” So when I say it’s Christmas he just looks at me or says “Christmas, eh?” but he has no connection with it. You and I would automatically think “oh no, I didn’t get her a present” but he just looks up and then carries on with whatever he was doing. So that’s why it was a bit of a hard day – and when I served up his dinner (lovely rib of beef with all the christmassy trimmings, I didn’t even get a thank you, I was stupid enough to complain about it and then he was shouting and stomping off. Again. Sigh. Of course two minutes later he’s completely forgotten about it and there’s no point me asking for an apology because he completely denies he ever said anything nasty or shouted at all.
Another thing is that he doesn’t DO anything. Leisure activities that is. He’s never had any hobbies at all, which is pretty odd for a bloke, they generally have one thing that they are fanatical about. Doesn’t care about sports, doesn’t do any arts or crafts, doesn’t do crosswords or jigsaws. If I’m not here to bring him a paper, I think he just reads older ones and wanders about the place. I’m learning that whatever he and mum did in their life was obviously all fuelled by her, the holidays, the fishing, the decorating… It worries me at times that he’s fit as a flea – far fitter than me – has nothing at all wrong with him aside from a touch of arthritis in his hands – and could easily live another 20 years and if (hollow laugh) i were to live that long, I’d be 70 odd and … well, you get the whining. (ETA: He’s just kicked off again over the stew when i asked him to get sideplates instead of putting the bread on the table and he’s thrown my coat and laptop bag into the hall and told me to get out, and i’m lurking in the kitchen as I need to cook his supper and his food for tomorrow and it’s my day off.)
Well, sorry about that, that was a tad maudlin wasn’t it? I think it helps to get it off your chest though, or your shoulders so thanks for listening.
Most of the rest of the time I spent offline eating cheese and biscuits, watching TV—which was in the main pretty dire—and knitting. I’ve been working on my purple and green (sounds horrible, but isn’t) scarf. I got a great bargain on six big hanks of wool on ebay for only £4 and so I’m knitting it until it’s about twelve feet long. It’s also quite wide –wider than I meant it to be but I’ve discovered that it will go over my head because of that which is serendipitous and being the colour it is it doesn’t show the bally cats’ hair that everything i own is covered in. I’ll upload a picture later, for some reason this laptop doesn’t find my bluetooth connection on my phone neither does it find it when i plug it in. I love technology. not.© Copyright 2012 Erastes, All rights Reserved. Written For: Erastes