2014, H A G the return

It’s coming up for Halloween again and in September last year I did a post called R U a HAG?
My broomstick is sitting in the corner of the bathroom having mated with a long handled dustpan, and is now ideal for cleaning out the boat every day in a matter of minutes. Not exactly magic, but much better than pushing a hoover for half an hour and running up the electric bill.

My H A G of the post still applies though, and to date I have only received 2 letters from down South, one of which was shortly after we arrived here. Saying that, we have visited three times since moving out of the house, and I continue to write every week.

My sister is an enigma. It is very difficult to gauge her moods and attitude, especially from a distance, and a little while ago I thought that things were ‘accepted’. Apparently there has been a shift and again I am in the wrong.

I have said before that of my 3 siblings, I am closest to my brother in NZ. If we had been able to join him, we would have been on the plane before the ink was dry on the sale documents.
That too would have been wrong, seen as desertion, and once again martyrdom would have prevailed. Brownie points all round, but a big black X for me.

We offered to take over the reins of permanent care, but were declined.
Where we lived was a small village with no shops or amenities out in the country, and therefore not really attractive to an elderly relative. The medical care was seriously wanting, so that was a definite issue to consider, but it would not have been impossible. When the time came to move, it would have been a totally different kettle of fish as we would have had the responsibility for someone else, and would not be where we are now.

Just a little point here, my Mum once came to stay for 2 months which included her birthday, but there was no contact whatsoever from down South.
How strange is that do you think?

I don’t know what is expected of me to be honest.
No-one tells me what’s going on unless they want to moan about it or blame me for it. I’m not surprised then that I’m the black sheep of the family, the poor relation, the one nobody wants to know.

But you know, I can live with all of that.
I don’t really care what people think of me, especially when most of them are friends or acquaintances of those who complain and therefore don’t know me at all.
I do not think I am a bad person, nor do I feel the way we live is Bad.
We don’t conform to the norm, and people just don’t know how to handle us!

When out together, we are seen as a couple who are chatty, enjoy a laugh, and who try to brighten their day. People remember us, and I don’t think in a negative way, though I suppose if they are really pissed off with life, then people like us are annoying and a real pain in the arse.

We do think and care about other people though, even strangers.
A lady fell in the street at the weekend and we were some of the first to go to her aid.
I called an ambulance, and we stayed with her until it arrived.
She had a huge lump coming up on her temple, was a bit shaken and had broken her wrist.
If she had been on her own, I would have gone with her to the hospital if she wanted me to, but luckily she was with either 2 friends or relations and there was no need.

Sometimes though, I wish I believed in all the hocus pocus and could magic away these
H A G type feelings.
Maybe I should take my broomstick out of retirement and cackle my way out into the night.

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