CONFUSED

Starting off this blog yesterday I confused Typepad and WordPress … I set up the blog on Typepad but have since discovered I wanted WordPress (which is free!).

I really wasn’t made for this stuff – I am just so dumb.  However, now that it is up and vaguely running, I shall soon plug other bloggers sites, so that you can see how I waste my day (not because of the content but because I spend too much time there!) and so that you can find other sites – there are just so many of them!  And of course, get my stats up and running (snigger, snigger).

INTRODUCTION

The Cast

The Dragon
This is me, named by The New Husband (see below)

The New Husband
Should I have married a man who calls me The Dragon? Well, I did …

La Fée Verte (The Green Fairy)
My daughter of 26 who comes from Another Planet

Rock Thrower
My son of nearly 18, going on 40, who speaks in text messaging that only his doting mother understands

Bébé Fée Verte
TwoAndAHalf

Angus
My wee black Scottish terrier, very smelly, and the only one here known by his real name although the Rock Thrower did at times call him Roger the Kangaroo … by the way, he is 4.

The Rest of Them
A jolly collection including the Mother Who is Very Good for Her Age, the Wicked Stepmother, reals, steps, halves, in-laws – you name it, I have the Most Decomposed Family on the Planet.

Apart from Angus who adopted me before I met the New Husband, most of the characters you will meet have been named by him. For some reason which I have yet to discover, the New Husband can remember people by their nick-names but not by their real names. He probably has a deep psycological problem and I shouldn’t have married him but on the 13th December 2008 I did promise to look after him in his twilight years, as his hearing and eyesight start to fail and I find his iTouch in the deepfreeze. But, maybe it will be a race to discover who can go downhill the quickest – the less batty of the two will look after the other half. I will definitely die of hunger if nothing else as the New Husband has squirmed his way out of avoided cooking for the last 62 years – apart from the ‘fridge he has yet to discover we have a dishwasher, a sink, an oven and various mod cons in the house.
The scene is set and the other cast members will appear in due course.
And me?
Known so kindly as The Dragon or Dull from Guildford, I am fiftyfivesomething, I now live in Brussels (no, we do not work for the Commission or any other European thing), am discovering that living in a city has its advantages and thoroughly enjoying being married again. Tall, desperately thin, fairly well educated, a smoker (vade retro) and with a mop of thick and shaggy grey hair, I wonder at times why the New Husband wanted to get involved with someone as neurotic as me – but on the other hand, why did I get involved with someone who is taller than me, is almost twice my weight, is worried about the bald patch, has had a far better education, doesn’t smoke and has had a quintuple bypass. A couple of desperate, sad buggers!

Right – all that stuff is out of the way, so I can start to blog.

COUCH POTATO

The New Husband is out tonight – babysitting his Number 3 Child while his Ex Wife Number 2 is off doing something terribly boring at Number 3’s school – probably one of those awful PTA meetings that I used to loathe.  If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em … after a couple of years scrunched up on chairs designed for gnomey children at meetings that went on for EVER, I became Boss Parent at the school and started my reign of terror by informing everyone that the meeting would last one hour only, three minutes maximum for inane questions regarding mid-morning snacks, and that they only had a year to put up with the regime.

Instant success and applause – everyone thought the same but never dared say anything in case their child was punished for having a Bossy Mummy.

Thank God, those days are over as the adored Rock Thrower is away at school in Toulouse while his Distraught Mother lives 1200 km away in the ‘plat pays’ of Jacques Brel.

An angry Rock Thrower rang this morning and in his SMS language informed me there were no trains from Carcassonne to Toulouse due to the storms that have hit that part of the world this last weekend and ordering me to ring the school to inform them.

Dutiful Mother rang school and then went onto the SNCF site to find out what was happening, would there be any trains and if so, at what time … am I the ONLY person on the face of the Earth that spends two hours on their bloody site trying to book tickets or get information and ends up with a stupid bloody message saying that the site is about to crash due to demand and to try later?  Eventually found a train, rang the Rock Thrower, and have heard nothing either from him or the school, so assume he is safely back eating the terrible canteen food and will soon be tucked up in his lumpy mattress bed.

So Angus and I have a lovely evening ahead of us, eating fattening food and slumped on the sofa watching silly programmes – actually Angus doesn’t watch TV unless a dog happens to bark on the screen so I do the watching and eating and he slumps!