Couple of Sundays

So it appears i have not been around since Jan 3rd.  I had better review my last blog so i dont repeat myself. Dog vs Magic Mushrooms, check.  Christmas Day, check.  New years eve, bundy snorting and vomit, check. Impromptu camping, KFC Kilcoy (or lack there of), check.

Since then i have had some blank days.  Really i dont remember anything.  I have been on holidays for a bit, and the days seem to roll into the next.  I have happy days and sad days, sometimes both in the same day, actually mostly in the same day, hopefully when you have seen me, if you have seen me, it has been during the happy  less insane part. 

I did go camping.  With Elvis and the boys and 2 of their friends.  I had an anxiety attack leading up to departure, during the packing phase and even before this when i was deciding  whether to stay or go. 

I am just going to add that this blog is taking fucking forever to write.  Tall boys computer is really pissing me off.

So when TT#1 said she would leave her air conditioned house even after we have been warned of an impending heatwave, to house sit in my queenslander, with a swimming pool but no air con and look after my fur babies, i had no excuse not to go.  Plus the tall and the short were looking forward to camping, actually not camping so much as they are 13 and 16, but the fact that the camp grounds are full of pretty girls who can all surf and ride a skate board. They are now the alley cats we used to talk about when we first started camping at Evans Head about 15 years ago.  Tall boy drove me down, i must say i was not so nervous, except when we had to merge onto the highway, its ok, we survived without an accident or a speeding ticket , he doesnt read signs as often as you should, and for this it became a quiz all the way down "what did that last sign say ?" needless to say, tall boy quit driving at Chinderah, he was bored of it and wanted me to stop quizzing him mostly.

Day one, set up,  cant remember anything else.  The next morning, Elvis is cleaning a table and is stung by a bee.  I know this because when i got back from my morning walk/newspaper/milk/magazine trip he was sitting in a chair, all red.  Yes he was red, and puffy.  He showed me where he was stung on the little finger, his hand resembled a cartoon hand.  It was at this point i offered him a zyrtec OR a ride to the hospital.  I was secretly hoping the antihistimine would work and my days plans would not be ruined.  Is that selfish?  I am a Leo, have i told you this?  Anyhow, off to hospital, turns out we should have called an ambulance and it was one of the worst reactions they had seen in a while. 5 hours later,  loads of drugs, couple bags of fluids, and a prescription for an Epipen, we arrive back at camp. Elvis put me in charge of looking after and administering adrenalin should he be stung again. Someone asked if i was going to start bee keeping (name witheld).

In total Elvis spent one afternoon at campsite, one day in hospital, three days at work and then another day and half at camp until i decided we should pack up and go home.  The weather was turning and for those of you who have been to Evans, it puts on a pretty mean storm.  I was so happy to be at home.  Isnt that sad.  The beach was beautiful, i even got to do some surfing when i could get my board off the boys. It was usually brought back to me when the surf had gone to shit and i was so sunburnt from waiting.  I did get some waves, the water was warm and so clear.  It truly is a beautiful place.  When i grow up i might move there, you can ride your horse on the beach.  That is my happy place (horse on beach) if anyone is interested.

So as we did not camp with any of our fellow alcoholics, we didnt drink as much as we usually do when camping.  You know the kind of holiday when you need to detox when you get home?  Not needed.  I did however find Long Island Iced Tea in a cask.  The Goon is back.  My boys did not know what a goon was, nor did they know you could use the empty one as a pillow, or a pool float.  Kids of the 70's would absolutely know this.

Since being home i have started to re-invent my office (aka Bermuda Triangle).  I have started buying an unusual amount of magazines, especially those with recipes in them that i will never ever cook, and cushions.  I have moved furniture and even squeezed a dining table into my baby kitchen.  Should have seen the shock on the boys faces when i announced we would be eating at the table.  Sad.  I remember having to ask to be excused when i was finished eating.  Need to get back to talking over dinner.

I am still not smoking.  Despite the hypnotherapist saying i will not replace it with anything, i have replaced the smokes with:
magazines
alcohol
cushions
cooking (but not anything from the new magazines, just some old favourites)
gym
going to bed really really early
writing lists (yes more than before)
notebooks

I cannot decide if it is the smokes or my mental status or a combination of the two which has contributed to all or part of these replacements.