bloggity blog

Life-upcycling

I am currently walking up and down my hallway. I’m not pacing, exactly…

As part of my life-upcycling that is in progress, I’m trying to get fit again.

It is too hot to walk outside and I have no one to look after the kids. I don’t have the money to join a gym and I know I wouldn’t go if I did.

I don’t want to do nothing. As tempting as it may be to curl up in bed and let myself drift further down the spiral. That is not what I want to let myself do.

So, I watch my FitBit as I race up and down the halls like a manical cat on heat… with out all the screeching of course.

Well, maybe a little screeching.

It is ironic actually. My destination-less wandering is a lot like my old life. A lot of movement nowhere. Floundering. Swimming through pitch.

Except this is giving my legs a workout.

Love

Amberley

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bloggity blog, When I am empress

When I am empress – parenting

So, yesterday, I took my kids down to the hotel pool.

There were so many kids. And with kids there are parents.

Walking into the pool area, there were about twenty poolside chairs, most of which were taken up with people. Seven chairs were without butts but six had towels. I take the only free chair which happens to be the one farthest from the pool but with splash range of the festy-warm spa water.

One thing I want to put out there, I’m not big on the idea of communal anything. Hostels are my nightmare, food courts make me feel physically ill and public pools… double both of those.

Sitting far from my own kids, I am forced to be close to other peoples children.

Most kids are cool. Kids are like regular humans except tiny and insane. If adults acted the way children act, they would have a one-way holiday to nice padded room.

Sorry, I’m getting distracted… oh yeah! There was this one kid that was being a little bitch.

One child was the cutest little thing. Pig tails, chubby cheeks, all the cuteness. All she wanted to do was be friends with bitch-child.

Bitch-child had that look about her. I know, I know… she is just a child and I am being a bit of a cunt but if you have kids and have spent time at their school you probably know what I mean. If you don’t then maybe your kid is one of these bitch-children. Soz.

So, this cutie-pie just kept asking bitch-child “do you want to be my friend?”

Sweet, right?

Yeah, well, bitch-child would say “only if you turn the bubbles on for me.”

Cutie-pie would get out and just before she would press the button, bitch-child would say “if you put the bubbles on I won’t be your friend.”

This went on for too long. If one of my children had done this, it would have happened once and that’s it. Back upstairs.

And what did bitch-child’s mum do? Diddly fucking squat.

These children are our future adults. The ones who will be our nurses, doctors, checkout chicks, food makers, etc. Not teaching them basic manners and how to treat other humans is just setting our future up for failure.

I understand that tearing your eyes away from Facebook and putting down your phone and entering the real world to discipline your children may harsh your holiday buzz or whatever but, for fuck suck! If you are a parent, then parent!

But the mother was a bitch too! She was the one who had spread her pool shit out over the other six fucking chairs!

When I am empress, all of her kind will be drawn and quartered. Well, depending on breeding age. If they have not yet breed then they will be chemically castrated.

My people will both love me and fear me…

I will also give strict testing for general courtesy, etiquette, ninja skills, horse riding, and, of course grammar/punctuation.

Love

Amberley

bloggity blog

Tattered wings

I (tried) to rescue a moth today.

It had managed to get itself stuck between the pavers and a brick wall.

I noticed because I could hear this noise while I wrote. A flap flap flap flap flap flap flap flap … silence … then flap flap flap flap flap flap flap flap flap. I had to go searching.

When I finally found the source of the tiny noise, a noise seemingly only I could hear. (My roomy thought I had finally lost my last marble)

I was saddened by what I saw.

It had been a big moth. Black and grey and white. Once it may have had wings to rival some butterflies. But in its night-long struggle to get out, its wings were only tatters. Torn. Worn down. All the scaley pixie dust covering from them, gone.

I still rescued it, picking it out of its prison and holding its fluttering, panicked body in my hands.

I still put it in the garden. Bit I knew it was as good as spider food.

In all its efforts to get free, its furious flapping to save itself was what ultimately caused its death.

If it had simply waited and then walked out of the hole, it would still have its wings intact.