Notice:

I can't predict when I have the time to post a new blog, but check occasionally. I'm going to try at least weekly.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Review of "The fire King"

Remember that rather nice interview a little while ago, author C.S. Marks. Well, I finally got around to reviewing one of her novellas. So here it is:

The Fire King by C.S. Marks


On my own Star system of 1-7 this one rates a 5

* * * * *



With the Fire King, Marks managed quite well to captivate this reader's attention, despite the fact that due to its historical significance there was little in the tale to remind me of the original Trilogy, which was a bit of a pity.
Still, Marks' ever eloquent prose swept me along in the tale, like before, and even though Aincor, the main character, wasn't as likeable as I would have liked, it was accurate in regard to references I remember from the series.

The lead was a powerful character, consistent--albeit frustrating at times--and led me toward a climax that was satisfying, yet sad in a way.
I regretted that some of the other characters in the story weren't as fleshed out, but allowances have to be made for novellas, I fear. There are only so many pages after all. Also, a lot was descriptive prose, rather than actually being there, which took some from the experience. Still, since it is basically a historical story that provides the reader with background information for Alterra, it is easily forgiven.

Violence was mild, and tastefully done, as always.

Conclusion:
A solid installment into C.S. Marks' Alterra series, and a must have for the diehard fans and fantasy lovers.

If you want to check it out for yourself here is the link to The Fire King

Or the old fashioned way: http://www.amazon.com/The-Fire-King-Alterra-Histories-ebook/dp/B00AIBCBJE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388340082&sr=8-1&keywords=C+S+Marks+fire+king

I hope you'll check it out.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Merry Christmas

Song of the day: “Sunrise” by Nora Jones. This song is most prominent in my brain these past few days, and though I like it, it’s starting to get on my nerves. Hah.

Ah, Christmas Eve has arrived, and I had a free day allowing me to catch up on some long-planned activities right at home.

But first, let’s see what’s been happening these past few weeks.

Not a bloody lot. I mean, the days have been full, of course, but nothing that really stands out, if you get what I mean. There are the hundred hours or so at work, which I can’t talk about, even though I would love to, because there is much to say, but darn…I can’t! *sobs*

But anyway. The messes are more or less gone, except for the metal that we’ve gathered from all over the property which we are going to have to bring to the recycling guys in town one of these days, and the plating from grandpa’s old place, which we have to bring to the land fill. Right now we’re living very basic, with the dogs a tad stressed from the lack of space…not to mention grandpa who’s worried about his dogs not being outside enough. So worried is he, that he doesn’t even realize that my dogs are outside even less. *sigh* Sure, it worries me too, but this is winter, and what with all the fences within the property damaged or removed, there is little choice in the matter. Added to that, the weather is not cooperating, despite the fact that we’ve been having some sunshine at least. The temps are very low and the winds cold. Ergo, the dogs are spending a lot of time inside, the poor darlings.

Writing…well, editing is more accurate, I suppose. We’re about halfway through the paper edit, meaning that it isn’t going bad. I still like the changes, despite that there are little resemblances left to the original story. It used to be sweet, and innocent, which was the point. Now it is…less sweet, to the point of gritty. Not a bad thing, mind you. I like gritty as much as the next gal, but I really liked the sweetness that it was. You know, someday I’ll probably Kindle-publish the first version if…you ask nicely. Hah.
Would you like that? A sweet little romance (1st person narrative. I know, not my style, but there you have it) set in the rural twenties of Chicago. Well, let me know. If enough folks ask, I might feel an incentive. *winks*

Exercise-wise I’ve had three good ones…hmmm, technically I four, seeing as I consider hauling a bed up the mountain (not ours) on an endless stairs as exercise. Hah. As for the other three, big brother and I grabbed our bikes (did I mention that I bought a mountain bike a few weeks ago? Well, I did, figuring that it was a safer way to exercise for my foot. And it is) loaded them, Knight and Grandpa in the car, and then headed out to a good spot where we could practice. Never smart to just go on a public road if you haven’t been on a bike proper in a couple of decennia. Hah. But anyway, we went there, plonked grandpa behind the wheel, let Knight out with us and started. I need a new saddle. Whoever thinks that a racing saddle is the better option, is friggin’ insane…it came with the bike, you see…it was cutting up my butt within minutes. No matter, though. I quickly got a hang of it, and burst out laughing when I looked back to see Knight dither between the car following us at a distance, and me, up ahead. He couldn’t decide whether to follow me, or go back to the car where he could lounge in the back, silly boy. Made him run along for about a mile and then gave him what he wanted and let him back into the back seat. I did some more, about three miles I think, and I was downright proud of myself for having made it that far. Boy am I out of practice.
The other exercise sessions involved me air-kickboxing (because I can’t hang the boxing ball anywhere yet), bending like a pretzel for about half an hour and pumping iron. Yay! It was bliss, in particular today, which was my first free day in two weeks, thank you very much. You’ll be pleased to know that I am at least managing basics again, you know sit-ups, stretches, etc five times a week. Nothing like a real exercise like today, but some movement at least.

Have been busy experimenting with baking. I made several breads today. Yay! Three vegetable/herb breads, my old recipe, but with the variation of quark as the base liquid. It worked beautifully. The bread is absolutely delicious, and we’ll be enjoying it for several days to come. Since I was busy anyway, I also made onion/herbal bread, this one with mascarpone and yogurt as the base liquid, which worked out well too. Very tasty.
Added to that, I also made a sweet cranberry/quark based bread last night, which is working well as desert. *smirk* In other words, we’ve got fresh bread coming out of our ears. Hah. Definitely going into the cook book.

As for cooking. Lots of experimenting this week. There was the white endive with green herbs, chili pepper baked in cheese and cream. Yummy. And the carrot, sweet potato mix baked in green herbs with chopped leek, and the just barely done broccoli floating in a light cream sauce. Not to mention the pasta fungi I prepared the other day. Hmmm. I get hungry again just thinking about it.
Lately I’ve been seriously pondering making my old vegetable burgers again. It has been ages, and I do have a nice bag of bread-crumbs. Yeah, I’ll let you know how that works out.

Which reminds me. Do you remember that cape berry cheesecake I was thinking of making the last time I wrote? I did, and it was divine. A very good fruit for cheesecake. Made two, and they were gone within two days. Hah. And what I had left of the filling…or boy was it good dessert.

Knight II’s foot is not doing too bad. I managed to exchange his last sock before he ruined it, so he didn’t get a chance to lick it this time round, and while I put his new one on, I had a chance to ascertain that at least the wound has closed and is dry at the moment. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

What with my free day today, I finally managed to clean up my clothes a little. They were covering what little horizontal surfaces I have, and I took the opportunity to sort the summer clothes out and store them under my bed. Now if only I can get another free day to get the shelvings sorted as well, that would be grand.

Have been reading quite a bit, and as you must have noticed last week, I have been trying to be diligent in writing reviews for the hard working new authors out there. Posted one this morning, in fact, which I will post here within a few days. This time C.S. Marks’ “ The Fire King” which was an entertaining read to say the least. I’ll let you see for yourself soon. *wink*

As for everything else…the daily stuff, which is more than a little boring to share. Taking care of the dogs, of course, organizing our new living arrangements, daily routines (never forget the laundry, hah) and going out to get donations. A busy life with very little exciting to share with you, darn it.

Well, I better wrap it up. Past seven pm, and I still have to edit.

So, even though I don't have any plans other than going to work this Christmas, I do wish you all a MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! and in case we don't speak before then: HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Review of "The First Enhancer"

No time for a proper blog today, but I promised you a review, so here it is:

The First Enhancer by Teresa McCullough.

On my own Star system of 1-7 this one rates a nice round 5

* * * * *


The review:

I have to admit to having really enjoyed McCullough’s novel. Within the story she explores the intricacies of creating a “special” kind of people serving their respective Gods, which will become the pillars of their religion, I would suspect. Her concept is that of a select group of people gifted by the skill of enhancing, which came across as credible and…well, handy to me. On the most part it describes the pitfalls of a life of sacrifice and toils, though, done in a way that leaves the reader with simple information rather than emotional turmoil.

Writing style:
Though dotted with some typos, in particular in the beginning of the tale, and missing some explanations that I needed, to know where the heck I was at, I could soon see where she was going at a steady pace. There were enough complications to keep it interesting, but not so many that I got lost in them.
Her voice, straightforward and meticulous, had some resemblances to Jack Vance, in my opinion. I liked her style, which was strong and consistent, except that I would have liked the author to apply a bit more flamboyance, some risks in her actual sentence structure and descriptions. To me it came across more as a classy, well detailed documentary about an interesting subject, rather than Hollywood drama, if that makes any sense.
There were times when basic description went on longer than necessary, while at others (in particular at dramatic times) the information was supplied as almost an afterthought. I love it when the author is able to wrench out my heart at life-altering scenes, which didn’t happen, much to my regret.

The characters:
McCullough’s lead character, Lanora, was fleshed out well. She consistent in her character traits, and as the story worked itself to completion, she managed to grow into someone “real”. The one regret I have is first person narrative, because it gave me very little insight in the other main characters. Still, kudos in making me like Lanora for who she was. I like reading a story and wonder in the end if I at some time will see more of this character; this happened.

Violence:
There is some, but it is brought much like the drama: There, to the point but unspecific, and not lingered upon. Respectful for young readers for sure.

Conclusion:
McCullough put together and entertaining story that reminded me why I enjoy Fantasy. I will definitely recommend it to anyone in the mood for a solid fantasy adventure into her world of the Enhancers.

You'll be glad to know that "The First Enhancer" is the first of a series in the same world, available on Amazon.

You can either go here: http://www.amazon.com/The-First-Enhancer-Teresa-McCullough-ebook/dp/B007N8UPCK/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1387480204&sr=8-3&keywords=Teresa+McCullough+enhancer or click on the title just now.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Life goes on

Song of the day: “After all” by Michael BublĂ© and Bryan Adams. Cute little song, and since I first heard it on the radio it’s been going through my head. I like it. Very BA, which had me think, “Hey, why the heck is Michael BublĂ© singing like Bryan Adams.” *snort*

So, here we are again. Like walking into a bar you used to frequent in the past but haven’t been for a long time. Familiar faces all around, everyone knows what you like and don’t like, and, well, it’s good to be there again. Same here. Have nothing extravagant to tell at the moment, just the aftermath of several months of stress and hauling behinds.


An update.
On the most part we’re done with the heavy stuff. Everything that had to be taken down is gone, and all that is left is…well, garbage. So much still to haul off, but that is our problem, and not at all city hall’s business. ThereLife goes on, though, which is as it should be. No sense on lingering of could haves and would haves, right? is the rubble down by the old pool apartment that has to be shoved together and covered. With a bit of land fill we should be able to make a terrace there, or something, in the future. There are the leftovers of what used to be the greenhouse that we need to haul off and store, but as of this week the biggest job that was left, grandpa’s roof, was removed. Was harder than anticipated, actually, we all got a little choked up there. I wonder what that is, that choking up bit. I’ve known it was going to happen for a while, have accepted it in a way of “well, f**k it!” and yet there you go: Choking up.
I gotta figure that one out. It’s counterproductive to care about things that you can’t change, and this I can most definitely not change.

But anyway, we tackled the roof for about three to four days, mostly because big Brother and I had a lot of working hours (sorry I’m not writing about work. It takes up a lot of my hours these days but I haven’t got permission to talk about it yet, and I don’t think I would get it if I asked for it. Hah), and what with hauling debris away, getting supplies, going to the garage (I’ll get to that later, by the way) and doing such tedious things as sleeping and eating, we’ve been having to slot in half an hour here, an hour there to get the chore done.

First there were the corrugated plates, which were the hardest. The first four big brother unscrewed and then laboriously shoved to the edge where grandpa and I could grab them. They were friggin’ pain in the behinds, I tell ya. More than three feet wide, twenty-five feet long and barely manageable, size-wise. We were bumbling about like a bunch of drunk construction workers trying to get the darn things wedged behind the new firewood storage. There I was balancing on a steep incline, cacti behind my bum, big metal roofs in front and then sliding on rock. I did some serious swearing, no worries. Considering I can swear in four…well, five languages, it is a good thing I decided a long time ago to keep this blog semi-PG, because otherwise you’re ears would turn all red now. Hah.
Be that as it may, since the plating was too heavy for grandpa regardless, big brother had to get off the roof and come help getting the things in place. They’re now neatly wedged between the shed and rock wall. Yay.

The next shift were the remainder of the plating. This involved grandpa on the roof, because he barely weighs more than a sack of flour and me catching the shorter plating being slid off toward me. I could just imagine what social services would say about that “poor old man” working on the roof…just as I could imagine what grandpa would do for implying that he wouldn’t be able to do it. *snort* These days he’s downright insulted when I suggest I do something in his stead because it might be too much for him. Hah. I know he can do a lot, but sometimes I like to tease him a little. But seriously, from the look of him, no one would guess he’s just a couple of years short of eighty. Whatever he’s doing to keep fit and “young” I’m gonna do the same. I wanna be doing DIY, climbing trees and buildings at eighty, too.

The third evening involved the old black plating of the roof, which were a lot easier. Big brother was punching them up from the nails that held them in place and shoved them down, and I hauled them off to a big pile that we’re going to have to bring to the local land fill soon.
There’s still some stuff that we have to try to store somewhere, but those are details that we’ll have to see to in the next few weeks.

Our temporary kitchen, located on the porch of the house right slabdab in the middle of grandpa’s and my respective sleeping corner, worked out well. I made pictures, but I’ll post them some other day. Same goes for my new bedroom…if a corner can be called such. There’s a bed and about two feet of walking space on the side and bottom. The rest is just filled with what is left of my stuff. I can’t even put my books there…which I shouldn’t think about, because it makes me sad. Grrr. I hate being in a cramped space, it reminds me of the years in the big trailer. *sigh* Gotta look at the positive side: Less cleaning, which is definitely a plus, right?

Doggies. They’re adjusting, though Knight II is a pest at the moment. What with me being away so much he’s not getting enough exercise nor enough attention. His new thing is to grab my wrist and chew on it when I come home, which is painful, not to mention unstoppable. Poor darling. His foot had a bad infection again last week, due to him licking all the skin off again, but luckily regular cleaning stopped that again. It looked almost good yesterday.

After working at the new job two days in a row (once 9 hours once 10 hours, a normal day is 3-4 hours) I discovered that if I get offered a full time position, I’m going to have to decline. Apparently this work is harder on my foot than construction, because unlike at construction where the repetitive motions allow me to adjust my walk in a way that I can keep up, while here, I am walking on burning glass after four to five hours. Most unpleasant. After my ten hour shift, I was about ready to quit. Hah. A pity, but such is life at the moment. If anyone has some miracle cure for Plantars Faciitis that doesn’t involve insoles, I’m open for suggestions. *wink*

The edit. We are in the middle of the paper edit. We’re making good progress and I am still happy with the way it reads. The new parts are in the same “voice” as the old bits, and the changes appear to be working to satisfaction. Now, if only we could finish this edit and the final read through, we could send the darn thing. If anyone reading this wants to play Beta reader, let me know. I’d love some extra input at this point.

I’ll be posting a book review soon. I was finally forced to give up on my phone and get a touch screen thing (2nd hand. Little brother gave me his old one) meaning I can now read Kindle. Decided on Teresa McCullough’s “The First Enhancer” as my first try on it and I hope to write it sometime today. Check back for that.

Had to bring the Land Rover to the garage again. This time a leak of the radiator liquid. Old cars, eh? And ours does suffer some serious abuse on a daily basis. Be that as it may, the garage noticed a small hole in a tube and they patched it to hold out until the new year when we need to have the hand brake adjusted again. It is barely functional at the moment, and that just isn’t safe. I’m going to make those guys a pie, because they have helped us so much these past few months, and despite some minor mistakes (they’re just human after all, hah) the service and personal interaction we get there, makes it worth it to me. There’s nothing I hate more than garages where they placate you with “oh we’ll just put in a new one, little lady” and pretend they don’t think you’re a moron for not knowing the inner workings of an engine. Give me old-school of, let’s see if we can patch that without spending a fortune, any day.

What else. Ooh, I get to gossip in Spanish these days. Two very nice cleaning ladies, well aware of the ongoings in the area. Fun part is, that despite the fact that we were forced to give up on our Spanish lessons (no time nor money for it at the moment) I get to practice a little. The fact that they’re nice ladies only makes it better. By the way, I gave them a taste of my pumpkin salsa mash yesterday, and I got a nice big pot of one day old, organic olive oil in return. Am going to have to experiment with some olive oil recipes.

Which reminds me, I’m planning on doing some cooking experimenting today. Yay. I’m thinking of a yogurt, mango and Golden berries (aka the cape gooseberry) pie. I should have all the ingredients. I’ll let you know how it works out. I, for one, am most curious if the taste I’m imagining in my head will be remotely like what it will be.

Also, I have big plans for cooking today. Haven’t decided what exactly, yet, but it’s gotta be something nice. I so rarely have the time to experiment these days.

Had a sick dog last week. Julia. She’s Cousin Ed’s dog. She was very listless, and after a close look I decided that she was likely to have a uterus infection. The vet wasn’t there, (bank holiday) so we had to postpone bringing her, and put her on antibiotics already. The Vet wondered why I thought it was a uterus infection, at which point I told him (he’s young, still learning the trade from our usual vet) I’d seen it before. Turns out I was right. Poor Julia’s uterus was filled with cysts that had started infecting. The whole mess had to be removed, and since she became a bit septic, she had to stay the weekend. By now she’s her old self again, luckily.

Sally is steadily declining. She doesn’t recognize Cousin Ed anymore, is basically unable to get out of bed, and on most part everyone is just preparing for when she passes on. The doctor doesn’t think it will be long now, which for her will be a blessing, I think.

Tenant is having some trouble adjusting to her new life. It is a lot more lonely for her, (here there was always someone around, even if we were busy) of course, in particular since Cousin Ed needs to make so many arrangements for Sally and their own relocating to a new place. They found a rather nice little house in a small village, and they are having fun decorating it. As soon as they are settled there, we’re going to arrange for Julia and Sammi (their dogs) to be sent over by plane, which should help tenant a bit with her loneliness. I just wish she would find herself something to do, some purpose that will make the time pass faster.

Well, it’s getting late, and there still is a lot to do. I’m going to leave it at this.
Let’s hope I have something a bit more fun and exciting to write about the next time, eh?

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Sit down. Long update with pix.

So. Song of the day…well, let’s just skip that one for a change, eh. Kind of wrecked the ongoing list of songs of the day to find out if there was some sort of mysterious pattern to it by having stopped writing frequent blogs. But what the heck.

So much to tell, so little time to do it in. So strange to be writing this again, in particular after such a long time. I have to say that I missed it. And I will continue to keep missing it since there is no way in hell that I’ll be able to do this blog thing with any frequency in the near future. Life is just too chaotic, I fear. Samaya Young’s World, just isn’t what it used to be. In fact, there are times when it feels as if I am in some sort of alternate universe. But enough about that. By no means do I want to turn this blog into some whiny trip into how very traumatizing the past few month have been. They have, of course, but I’ll get over it. *snort* I’m determined. Life’s about change, and I’m going dive into this change head first, even if it kills me. Hah.

But okay. Where did I leave off, the last time?
Sally, right? The way she went back to her home country, and how it all was like some wonky Mission Impossible kind of thing. But we managed. Yay. You’ll be glad to know that cousin Ed managed to contact Sally’s family, which she hadn’t seen in years and years, and that they have stepped in and are helping her through these final months as best they can. Less pleasant is that while Sally is staying at a nursing home specifically for terminal patients, she is not doing well, and rapidly heading toward that final adventure into the unknown. She is in a lot pain these days, she’s almost blind, and her mind is degrading fast…the latter is a mixed blessing, really, since it allows her to be less aware of all that has happened and is still happening. Not long to go. Not long.

Things have been incredibly strange. I don’t remember if I already mentioned this the last time, but seriously, we had press vans at the gate, for crying out loud. Men and women with microphones and cameras telling the most outrageous lies about us on national TV. I kid you not. So strange, so surreal. Since we got the advice from the lawyer to just not “be home” for them, there were frantic games of cat and mouse to avoid them, until one morning big brother and I were on our way out, only to be waylaid halfway up the drive sweep by a news van and a very persistent camera crew. *sigh* Nothing to it. We had to try. So we spoke with them, told them that they were misinformed, and luckily one of their tech guys had lived in England for years and could translate for us. As it turns out rumor was that we were abusing these poor old folks who had been lured to our illegal senior home. When I heard it, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry (decided on the first, it was so insane) but here they were, wrecking the lives of two elderly women because of some sort of delusion of a paranoid social worker. Seriously, we heard that the woman cried on national TV while she explained of the horrible conditions in which tenant and Sally were forced to live. There were pictures in the newspaper showing the place where we made dog food, which was where we reportedly made dinner for the ladies. Aaaargh. The stuff that has been said, it was painful, humiliating and such…well, lies! that I was an emotional wreck for quite some time. I have to admit that the whole experience has made me look very differently at the news. Now every time they publish some sort of scandal, I wonder whether they are fabricating everything there, too. Probably. The truth is rarely sensational.

Be that as it may, not only have they wrecked our reputations locally, and forced our dear friends to leave the place they had wanted to spend the remainder of their lives, they also sicked city hall on us. Yep. We had everything from building permission, to sanitary and environmental services banging on our doors, and we were slapped with the proverbial rod with the order to take everything, the cabins, grandpa’s bungalow, the old autobus, the old RV and the derelict apartment by the old pool, away within one month, or else… Added to that was a bill of 60.000 bucks to the city workers that we could hire to clean it all up. *gulp* It was insane. Mom filed a complaint, but we all know how that works, right?
One month to break down 17 years of our lives. Everything except the main house. Big brother and grandpa were assigned to start on that ASAP while I had to divert my attention elsewhere.

Tenant. Lots of change there too. I asked her to decide what she wanted. Staying at the home in Puerto Banus (she hated it there, but she did recover wonderfully), where I would be able to visit her once or twice a week only, or going back to her home country where she could at least be in the vicinity of her daughter. She looked at me teary-eyed and then made a very decisive statement. Back to her home country. So then the planning started. For her and for me because there was just no way for her to travel on her own.

Over there everything would be arranged by cousin Ed who had found a temporary apartment where the two of them would be able to stay for the first three months. She took care of all the official stuff, the doctor’s appointments that would have to be done, a nurse to come check on Tenant the day after arrival, and all those little details that needed to be done to be able to take care of her.

As for my side, there was the packing. A carryon for myself, one for her, along with four big suitcases containing tenant’s clothes and some of cousin Ed’s. That was a lot of planning, in particular since Ryan air has so many restrictions. But let’s face it, I could hardly afford more than that particular company.

But anyway, lots to arrange, lots to plan. The trip was set on the fourteenth of September, and after work and a quick meal made by grandpa, we went to the home to pick Tenant up at four in the afternoon. Our flight was at seven, and she was lying in her bed, swearing at the staff for having put her there even though she hadn’t wanted it. So big brother and I got her ready. Well, I dressed her, and big Brother gathered the last of her wardrobe. We were out of there, like thieves, almost, despite the fact that I said my goodbyes to the kind women in charge who’d helped out so much.

So, the back of the car filled with luggage, big brother drove us to the airport, saw us off six times because we kept forgetting stuff in the car, hah. There was this very nice assistant who work at the airport to help invalids get to where they have to be, and we chatted with him until we were checked in and delivered at our gate. He wished us a good journey, kissed tenant’s hand (that sure made her day) and then left us to wait for our plane for two hours, because we had actually arrived at the right time. Hah.

It wasn’t too bad, we talked some, ate some of the lunch I’d taken along, and then the other passengers started arriving, filing in endlessly leaving us, and another lady in a wheelchair as last. So nice to have the poor old lady being dragged through the plane with everyone watching impatiently. No matter, got busy fast since the guys with the special stretcher had no idea how to get tenant from the stretcher to the chair. I had to do it instead. I grabbed the back of her pants with one hand, her shoulders with the other, and carefully pulled her onto the slippery seat. Since invalids are supposed to be seated by the window, we had to slide two more seats until she was finally settled and I could slide in beside her. What followed were a handful of SMS to everyone to let them know we were on board and about ready to depart, and then the phone had to be switched off and we actually got ready for liftoff.

First time in almost 25 years that I was in a plane again. Very strange experience. I wasn’t afraid, hardly even nervous, I just sat there and waited until we were in the air, trying to catch some glimpses of the outside through the tiny window beside tenant.
The flight was pretty uneventful. I did some reading, some writing, and then we arrived in Germany and were last to depart because they had to call for a special chair to get tenant out. Planes work with stairs, so that is pretty invalid unfriendly. Tenant was afraid first, when they started to wheel her out with the special seat designed to go of stairs, but then we were in a private bus and were transported to the arrivals hall. Everyone else was gone already and our four suitcases were the last one’s circulating. I was in a pickle there. Try navigating a wheelchair and a cart with a grand total of six suitcases. Practically impossible, but we managed. We came through the blinded doors and were watched by a silent group of fifteen or twenty people all watching me struggled with the wheelchair and the cart. Finally an nice old fella took pity on me and offered to help.

Again the waiting, and at a certain point, when I didn’t see her, I called to ask Cousin Ed where she was at. She was at the arrivals hall, alright, except she was, you won’t believe it, at the wrong airport. *sigh* Some odd 65 miles away from us. For her to get there would take more than an hour apparently, and from the sound of it, it was a common problem since both airports basically have the same name. So we waiting longer, wondered if we should take one of the ridiculously expensive coffees, and decided against it while we haunted the arrivals hall.
Finally cousin Ed did arrive and the whole waiting game to an exhausted end. There was the whole, “so sorry, good to see you, how was your trip” thing and then we were finally in the car and on our way to the apartment. It was dark, it was raining, and of course we got lost. Hah.

Though we arrived around ten thirty in the evening, we didn’t actually get to the apartment until after two. *sigh* I was seriously pooped. Did a bit of unpacking for tenant while cousin Ed helped her prepare for bed, and then, around three we were all finally in bed. It was very strange to lie there beside a wonderfully warm radiator. Slept like the dead, thankfully, waking to a cloudy day looking out over a dense forest at the top of the apartment building.
Here, have a look.


Now that’s a forest!

But anyway, managed to wake up enough to get showered, dressed and make breakfast, and then had a small mental melt down. Guess all the tension and stress of the weeks before got to me, and I really had to rush out onto the icy balcony to get myself under control, rather than worry Tenant who was a tad emotional herself already. Got myself under control within minutes, thankfully, and set to getting ourselves and tenant ready to go out. Made it as far as the car when the mental wonkiness started again, and it was all I could do to help put tenant in the car and leave them to it while I headed out down the road. This is what I walked through:


Gorgeous, right?
There is just something incredibly calming about all that green and moisture. Was nice and calm after a few minutes and got in the car so cousin Ed could drive us to town hall where she had to register tenant. I just stood out there, tenant still in the car beside me, taking in all the green and neat houses and friendly folk. Very strange to be there again after all these years. Very much a culture shock, I must say. After that we went to the car rental place where my drivers license had to be added to the contract. I had to be able to get around after all.
What followed was a day filled with bureaucracy, getting lost in the cities of which I remembered very little. The last time I was there, I was sixteen and took stuff for granted. Still there were some familiar spots while we went to town and had French fries for lunch.
Next it was on to the care home where Sally is staying. A desolate looking place, really, and old monastery, I believe with lots of nasty history over the centuries.
Here, have a look:


I love places like that. It breathes history, even if it is creepy.
The people were nice, though, and Sally in good spirits after those first few seconds where she didn’t recognize me. She was more bloated than before, but still Sally. Couldn’t stay too long, the day was rapidly passing, but I promised to come see her again soon, and then went out to do some sightseeing with tenant who had come with me, before we had to go grocery shopping.

Went to some places all three of us remembered from almost two decades ago, saw an old friend and even went to see my childhood house. It didn’t look at all like I remembered, in fact, in my memory it was huge, and now it looked downright tiny. It didn’t help that the new occupants changed a lot of it, leaving only the most basic shapes as familiar. Strangely enough it was the road there that I remembered best, that one curve around the beech tree, the cluster of birches and all that. Very strange all.
It was too late to see much, but I did get a few shots.


Not at all like the picture in my head, I fear. Upper left window used to be my room when I was little. The next two were of our two nephews. Big brother was on the other side. Hah.

Came home to the apartment late, with all three of us pretty exhausted as we rushed through unpacking the groceries and preparing some food. Didn’t get to bed until very late, partly because I had to send out a load of mails home, tenant’s daughter to set up an appointment for the next day, and because I couldn’t get my brain to shut down. Too much input, I think.

The next day the local nurse came to check up on tenant, followed by a visit of the local senior advisor who seemed like an extremely hard woman at first, who was looking at us with grave suspicion when tenant tried to explain what had happened. From what I heard, she hadn’t gotten most of it herself, and thus was telling the woman all sorts of things that only made her more suspicious, then, when it just became too confusing, I couldn’t help it, I started laughing and shaking my head and set the woman right. Once I explained the situation, and that these crazy social workers had put it in everyone’s head that we were some sort of illegal senior home, she relaxed a bit, and even turned out to be very kind, and helpful with all sorts of suggestions for tenant. I guess the fact that we all looked at the verge of tears from time to time helped with that too.l *snort*
I hate being a girl in that regard. Nothing is more wasteful than crying at the drop of a hat. I’m going to plead temporary insanity on that. Grrr.

Managed to do some work on my computer while waiting for tenant’s daughter and son-in-law, and went through a nice visit with pie which tenant’s daughter had been nice enough to bring along…along with some basic kitchen necessities for which we were incredibly grateful. The next step would be to go to 2nd hand stores to get the bare necessities for living, and some nice things to brighten the place up.
Were late getting to bed again, which had us rush through the next morning where tenant had an appointment with her new doctor.

They were late getting back, so I was late departing for the north of the country where I was going to visit an old family friend who would be able to help out with getting us some of those living necessities such as sheets, blankets and towels. Was a nice visit, really. Got to see all her cats, dug through the attic in search of everything we could use and then had to rush back because we hoped that I would be home in time for us to go view a possible permanent living place for tenant…was too late. I was actually making good time on the way back, and then got stuck in traffic before getting lost in the city. Grrr. Cost me a good half hour to get out of that. Hah.
Too late after that, so we gave up on the viewing, unloaded the car of all the handy stuff, and settled tenant in front of the TV. We left her to it and went for a bike ride, something I hadn’t done in more than seventeen years. I could still do it, but I did lose some of my confidence. Hah. It was nice though, despite the cold and the clouds. Nothing like biking through the woods…and a short walk afterward to cool down my thigh muscles. Boy, that was different.

The next day we went to visit Sally again, and this time I sat with her a bit longer, talking about home and anything that struck her fancy. Then it was time to say goodbye. I have to say that I am glad that her mind is rapidly deteriorating because she had very little understanding of my goodbye most likely being permanent. Difficult to say goodbye, isn’t it. In particular if you see a person you’ve known your whole life “disappearing” like that. Can’t be helped, though. Such is life and you can only do what you can. Spent some time in the city, getting some more necessities for tenant and Cousin Ed, and then met them at the appointed spot.

Next we went to visit tenant’s family where we had lunch and then left tenant with them so we could go to the local charity shop to look for furniture, kitchen appliances, lamps and china. A nice trip that, going through the old messes and finding little treasures for bargains. Nothing like haggling a bit either. The bigger stuff would be delivered by van the Monday after my departure, so in that regard both ladies were all set afterward.
Took all the small stuff with us to the apartment, showing it all off to tenant, who enjoyed the show at least.

Which was my last evening there. Went to bed late, which meant that getting up at five was a hardship. But my plane would leave at around eight, and it was at least a two hour drive crossing to Germany and then getting into a panic because we couldn’t find a gas station anywhere. Jeez. We had to get off the highway and find one, just barely in time too, which made us late already before we got stuck in rush hour near two big cities. Were barely on time at the airport, where customs left a row of more than four hundred people waiting before me. Since Cousin Ed had parked the car in front, she couldn’t afford waiting with me. So we said our goodbyes while she went back to pay the meter and hope that she could still catch me. She couldn’t, because by then more desks of customs had opened and the lines went faster. Arrived at my gate ten minutes before the plane arrived.

The trip was uneventful, except that it was stacked to full capacity with beside me a young German man who had forgotten to shower that morning. *sigh* I napped during the flight, and then watched the mountains of Spain slide under me once we got closer to home. Landing went smoothly and then I was out, looking for the airport exit dragging my suitcase. Did way too much walking that day, and my foot was about ready to fall off, but then I saw the Land Rover, and big Brother standing there in the sunshine with Knight II trembling at his side. At first the big lug was just scanning his surroundings and then, his head in my direction he suddenly stopped moving. I could see him think: “hey, that’s familiar” as he slowly lumbered around fully, his entire posture on full attention. I grinned, spread my arms, startling the taxi driver standing between us as I said, “Knightie boy” and saw him put at his leash in response. Fifteen yards to go and Big brother let go of his leash (scaring the taxi driver even more now that he realized why I was making kissy noises), leaving Knight to rush forward in a semi crouch before he launched himself at me. Silly boy. Did the whole hugging and petting thing, then reached the car and tossed my single carryon in the back beside Knight saying, “Let’s get the heck outta here!” Big brother complied and drove home.

Coming home was hard, though. Though big brother and grandpa had already started on my cabin, they had left it there so my dogs would sleep in familiar surroundings at least during my absence. For me that was difficult. Nothing like watching your home being taken apart bit by bit while you have to go through your things and throw away more than three quarters of it. I did a lot of crying in those days. Like I said, I HATE that, and felt pretty much horrible while still going to work every day, and then coming home to take apart more of our lives until there was nothing left. Luckily a glass or two (make that 3-4) at night helps. *snort*

But life has changed drastically, as I said. Most of it is unpleasant, seeing as in the months that passed we did little more than destroy everything that we’ve worked so hard for in the past five years.

Again our mechanics came to the rescue, supplying us with folks who could take out the old buses, but in order to do that, we first had to cut down a handful of trees and hire a bulldozer to create a road so the old 57 passenger bus could be removed. First estimate we got from a local company was 450 per day, 2 to 3 days of work, which was horrifying. Again the mechanics knew someone who’d do it for a hundred less and faster.
In order for the bulldozer to get there in time, we first had to take away the carport (aka our hobby room, fitness room, and living area), which we had to get done within 12 hours if we wanted to have the road done before the weekend. We worked into the late hours of night, but managed. Almost dislocated my shoulder there, since I had to hold onto one of the support beams while big brother cut through it with the chainsaw. It tipped and my shoulder went right with it. Hah. No harm done, though.

So the bulldozer came, dragged out the old RV first, and within six hours he had a path made, grandpa and big brother working right ahead of him to get the trees out of the way in time. He also took down the outside kitchen I never even had the pleasure of using. *sigh*
But, it was quite satisfying to be able to call the metal guys to let them know they could start on getting the buses that Monday.
Here are some shots of the whole thing.





With that done there was a week of keeping track of the dogs and seeing the vehicles with which we arrived in Spain disappear bit by bit.
Here:






And the truck that came to pick it all up:


Also, at the same time, we were taking apart the greenhouse. Such a pity.




Very depressing, and for grandpa it was even worse, because everything reminded him so much of the war when he and his family were cast out of their farm and sent up north with the rest of the refugees.

But anyway, that was done, and we were waiting for the ax to drop in regard to the old apartment by the pool. Three days before city hall’s deadline it became clear that it had to anyway, so we called the guy of the bulldozer only to hear that his machine was in the shop for repairs and that he wouldn’t be able to come until the next week. So frantically we started looking for another one. Finally got someone to come and look, but this guy said he’d need 5-7 days to take the apartment down, and that he’d charge us 450 per day. *gasp* Not doable, and a total hoax. We were in fact so out of sorts the next day Big brother took a sledgehammer just to see what kind of damage he could do with it on the apartment. Within three hours he had the darn apartment to smithereens, (I helped by standing safely on the side saying, “yeah, hit it there…and maybe there. It’s moving, a few more whacks and you’ve got it done! which had us both smirking at the end. 450 a day?! *snort*
Here’re the picks:




But anyway, the old stables are gone now too, along with our thousands of Euros worth of wood supplies which we either had to throw or cut up as firewood. There really is nothing left of…well anything. The house is there, where I now occupy a corner of the porch walled in by my closet with just enough space for my bed and a bit to walk around two parts of it. Very distressing, that. It’s like moving back home, robbing you of independence, privacy and pretty much anything that you value. For me, the Spanish adventure is pretty much over, really. Time here now I see as time to take care of final loose ends, giving my dogs some extra time at the only place they know as home, and cleaning up the mess. Then I am going to see what I am going to do with the rest of my life. It won’t be here in Spain, though.
I need change, and I need time away from here to get over what I can only describe as a tremendous trauma to my soul. It is not easy to lose everything, I assure you. But, whatever healing I need, I can’t do that here. Everything around me reminds me of what is gone, and I have come to hate most of what is left. Maybe at some point in the future I can look back at this with some fond memories, but for now, I want this era over and done with so that I may look to the future, start on it, rather than wait, linger and wait some more. I don’t feel I have the luxury to wait much longer regardless. Time is passing way too fast. *sigh*

I don’t know how I’m going to do this, you know, but I will. I have to, because I fear that if I stay I won’t be able to continue letting go of the hurt, which means that it would at some point break me.
Dramatic, isn’t it? Well, that’s me, right? Miss Drama. Can’t help that anymore than I can stop breathing. Ah well, I’ll let you know how that works out. Hah.
For now, it is continuing cleaning up the messes all the destruction left. Hell, we even had to break down grandpa and tenant’s old place, which didn’t do him well. The past two months aged him incredibly, and like me, I think he needs change too, a chance to breathe, to look to the future rather than the past. Same goes for big brother for that matter. You shrug it off out of necessity, put your foot in front of the other time and again and go on, but it eats at you, doesn’t it. In that regard I am a bit jealous of tenant who is over there starting her new life. Nothing is quite as depressing as cleaning up the old messes.

The fact that the Land Rover is getting more trouble too, and needs repairs doesn't help either, since that really would be the last straw...losing that last stable thing...yuck. It doesn't bear thinking about.

And you think, that everything that has been going on, with tenant and Sally being back where they came from, all the trouble would be over, but no. Just a couple of weeks ago social services were back at the door with a court order to come pick up the two old ladies we’ve been “holding against their will”, or some such nonsense. Where, for crying out loud? In the bathroom? There’s not enough room in the friggin’ main house to turn without bumping into someone, let alone two more people. Jeez. Not only are they cruel, hardheaded and stupid, they are also inept. What, they can’t check the airlines, but they can sic the cops and city hall on us? People like that should be locked up for the damage they do. Right now Sally is dying on her own 3000 km away from here, tenant and cousin Ed are on their own, needing to start from scratch, and there is no way that we can even go and visit them because we’re not done cleaning up yet. The deadline is approaching way too fast.

What else? Well, we lost two more dogs. Old age, mostly, but we did have to decide helping them along when the actual dying took too long. That would be too cruel. Carla and Chiuma. For them...and partly also for us...I'm glad it's over. Their world changed a lot, too.

But such is Samaya Young’s world at the moment. I am still trying to get that book revision done, but time is sparse because every day still involves cleaning up and hauling away the debris of our lives. By the time I sit down for edits after being on my feet for some odd 16 hours, I’m so darn tired I’m cross-eyed from it. Can’t be helped, though. The beginnings of a cold winter don’t help much either. Nor does working every day to pay the bills, too little sleep, and not taking the time for proper food. Hah. There is only so much a body can do, right, and I think that I have reached my limit for the time being. Running on empty and all that. The thing is, you can’t get further without letting go first, is my way of thinking.

Ah well, how wonderfully fatalistic all that sounds, eh? No worries. I’ll get through this. Like that song “When the going gets tough”, and “Bruises” that make life interesting, I too shall persevere…somehow. *wink*
And with that cheery note I’m going to leave it at this…8!!! friggin’ pages again! Oh gawd. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hold you up with my maudlin. Gotta go. Lots to do still. Hopefully until soon.

Monday, September 9, 2013

R.I.P. Chaos

2005/20013


Today, while I was in Marbella, visiting tenant in the home, I got a call from middle sister informing me that Chaos, my Gorgeous, was completely bloated in the gut and that she was bringing him to the vet. I sped there as fast as I could, got stuck behind a big loader, a CAT, but did make it in forty minutes. At first it seemed not so bad, just a case of overeating (he did love eating really badly)because nothing was really visible on the x-ray. So the vet tried a catheter, to get him to vomit, no luck, so she would have to crack him open, meaning it was decision time.

I hate decision time, in particular when it comes to the Gorgeous. A life of eating several tiny meals a day while he can barely stand eating less than his usual masses. Him going through a heavy operation that has a relatively big chance of failing. Then having to stay at the vet for at least five days. The last time I tried that with him he almost perished from being in a cage and away from me. Added to that, I wouldn't be able to visit him twice a day, not with all the messes going on. And then, two days after he gets home, I'd have to leave him home while I travel out of the country for five days. What with big brother having to work those days, and little sister, too, the care of him would be a tremendous burden on grandpa and middle sister, not to mention that he would be sleeping alone in my cabin, because he would refuse to sleep anywhere else.

It wasn't really a choice, but for a moment I wanted to just be that selfish and just go for it, regardless of the consequences.

As it is, the Chaos is no more...but he was loved.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Beware!!! An 8 page update

So. A lot has happened since my last post “Disaster struck”, and for now I’m going to see if I can catch you all up on the events that occurred so that you’ll be able to keep up to date, so to speak. For the time being I’m not going to resume my usual blogging schedule, life is just a little too hectic at the moment, but I should be able to manage one update a week until the time when I’ll be able to resume a thrice a week schedule.

First off, let me inform you that neither Sally, nor Tenant are living with us anymore. What with all the trouble going on, it just wasn’t possible. It is sad, it is hard, but even Samaya’s world is not untouchable by reality, is it?

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s get this a little in sequence, so that I don’t drive y’all bonkers with incoherent explanation. Last time I mentioned anything Tenant was being taken away by social services from the hospital and we were not being kept informed where she was taken.

Well, first of all, I contacted tenant’s daughter who immediately got to work on her side of the globe by contacting the embassy. I have to say I was properly impressed, because within several days she was able to inform us that tenant had been placed in a home for older folks in a nearby village, and even though we were not allowed to go and visit, it was a relief to know that at least she hadn’t disappeared off the face of the earth.

But anyway, while we were waiting for some sort of resolution about tenant, we were getting to hear more and more rumors that social services were hard at work to take Sally away from this, according to them, “horrible place”. *Gapes* Guess they don’t like dogs, or something. I would like to say I don’t hold that opinion against them, but I do. *sigh*
So, the news of that was starting to become more and more persistent, and Sally, who doesn’t have contact with her family at all and therefore would be lost in the Spanish healthcare system forever, was getting more frightened every minute. Action had to be taken, and what followed very much felt like some sort of Mission Impossible. With her certainty that she didn’t want to stay in Spain if she couldn’t stay home, she wanted to return to her country of origin, so this would have to be arranged.

It all started on a Friday. Big brother and I were at Spanish class, when the phone rang, and the decision had to be made. Tenant’s daughter had heard through the embassy was “very concerned”• about that “poor woman” and that they were taking steps. Dismissing lessons, I contacted Sally, and then started phoning. A friend of hers, and ours in her country of origin would be able to give her a place to stay, and Cousin Ed would travel with her by plane, just as soon as we could arrange a ticket. Lots of phone calls passed, friends were called, plans put in motion, but the first thing that had to be done was get Sally out of our place to some place safe where social services wouldn’t be able to pick her up before she got safely away.

Our boss, who we were building the pool for, was still in her own country, and we would be allowed to use her house as a shelter Sally. We finished our lesson, headed home where cousin Ed was already hard at work gathering whatever she and Sally would need for their trip and stay in the north. I packed up food for them, we filled up the Land Rover and were gone within four hours of planning the whole thing.

Cousin Ed was a mess, of course, not unexpectedly, seeing as she would be the one who’d have to take care of Sally during the flight, and then when they arrived on location and for however long it would take to get her settled there with the proper care. The fact that Cousin Ed had to leave behind her dogs didn’t much improve on the matter.

But anyway, I drove them to our boss’ place, got them set up for the night, and then rushed back home so I could help big brother arrange for tickets, and gathering whatever had been forgotten in the mad dash of getting everything packed.

We all got very little sleep in those days, four hours per night at most, and food just didn’t go down properly, so was skipped in most cases. Lost several pounds in fact. Not good. Were up early the next morning, working day, and helping Sally and Ed prepare for their trip were top priority, of course. For the most part I was splitting myself up by making concrete for big brother and helping get organized, while in the meantime we had to confirm the tickets and have a serious sit-down with Sally, who had somehow managed to turn everything around in her head and thought that all she had to do to get social services off her back was claim that she was a Dutch citizen and that if she wanted to remain the rest of her days with her only friends, that was her business. Was hard having to tell her that she couldn’t stay with us because they were going to come and get her, and that if she stayed she would have to stay in a home. That got her even more confused, because she couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do that to her when her wishes were so clear, so in the end I just started to reassure her by keeping it simple. She was going home to visit an old friend and see her family after many, many years. When I repeated that several times she calmed down enough to get cheery again.

While working grandpa phoned that a man in a suit had come to the gate asking for Sally, and only after grandpa said to him that she wasn’t there and had returned to her country of origin, did the guy leave. Talk about just in time.

We managed to get the last-minute tickets just barely, seeing as only afterward we discovered that you’re supposed to inform the airport of a disabled person two days prior to departure. Lots of phone calls to arrange that, of course, and finally we go the get-go. We would have to be at the airport at ten to six, and Sally still had to be cleaned and dressed for the trip.
By the time we finally were ready to get her into the car she was tired, and less than cooperative. In the end big brother literally had to lift her into the front seat, with her crying like a child. That was hard, too. Luckily, she calmed down considerably during the long drive to the airport, (had to drop Knight II and Niobe at home and pick up a couple of sweaters for the ladies) where Cousin Ed, stressed like the rest of us, rushed inside to get a wheelchair for Sally.
We were running late, but no matter. Sally was dressed nicely, and since Cousin Ed could already start signing them in, I took Sally to the bathroom where we wrapped her arms and legs in clean bandages. What with her fragile skin it just wasn’t smart to have her in the plane unprotected. She looked downright regal afterward, and calm, thankfully.

Service at Málaga Airport was nothing if not stellar. Due to the wheelchair, we were helped through the entire procedure by a young man who was able to tell us all sorts of fun stuff of what all went on at the airport. Then saying goodbye was there, we were all a little choked up, I think, not to mention tense. For some reason I kept having this image of that social services woman coming running at us, dragging Sally off. But she didn’t, and I told Sally that she was going to have a wonderful trip, and that hopefully we would see each other again soon. I doubt she believed me.
Goodbyes were said to Cousin Ed as well, and promises made to take good care of her doggies before the two of them disappeared through the gates, leaving big brother and me to walk the two odd miles to where he had managed to park the car.

Had a good cry on our way there. All the tension, stress, not to mention that my foot was effing killing me, just came pouring out, and I was a mess. But we managed, and since by the time departure time passed Cousin Ed hadn’t phoned that something had gone wrong, we felt infinite relief that it had all worked out, and that our boss would be waiting for them in the Netherlands to drive them to Sally’s friend.

Her arrival:
She looks relaxed, right?

So we headed back to work, finished the day’s work on the floor in the final hours of daylight. Actually managed our hours, even with everything going on. That knowledge almost made me giddy. Got a message at midnight that Sally and Cousin Ed arrived save and sound and were on their way to Sally’s friend. A big relief, that.

The next morning, again after way too little (albeit deep) sleep, we got to work on some serious cleaning throughout the house and rooms. It was a mess and having had social services seeing us at our worst didn’t feel good at all. Added to that, since one of the many complaints that we had gotten from social services was a “hygiene” problem, we decided to transfer all of tenant’s stuff to Sally’s little cabin, so she’d be in a new, and after a good scrubbing, extremely clean house.
Still not enough eating for me by then, but what the heck, I’ve got reserves, right? *snort* Did manage some writing that evening (nothing like a little escapism in hard times) but not much, seeing as we had to go to bed early so we’d be able to go to work early the next morning.

Were setting up the pool, and in-between cleaning the house, when Tenant’s daughter finally called with news. She’d had conference calls with the embassy, social services and the home where tenant was at, and since social services said that they’d had a doctor’s declaration that tenant wasn’t fit to make her own decisions, and that that declaration was at the home, which the home denied, we could go and pick her up just as soon as I could arrange it. So I was on the phone again, spoke with the director, and got permission to come pick her up at eight. That meant that big brother and I had little time to get everything done, in fact, since the pool was only halfway up, we weren’t going to make it unless big brother stayed there while I rushed home where little brother would be waiting with the Opel so we could go to the home and pick tenant up in time.

Arrived at home on the dot, headed out almost immediately, and then got desperately lost in the small tourist town that I hadn’t been to in more than ten years, I think. Arrived at the home exactly two minutes before closing time, which I basically fell into, out of breath while little brother got behind the wheel and got the car around to the right side of the road.

They weren’t unfriendly there, didn’t make a fuss either, but tenant looked horrible when I saw her sitting there in her chair, her chest concave and her face barely changing when she saw me come toward her. She was swearing under her breath, looking less than a shadow of herself, and I hated having to leave her there for even a few more minutes just so I could handle the paperwork. Got her out of there as fast as I could, ten minutes tops, and literally lifted her into the car, rather than risk having to linger there longer. I would have had a doctor come by immediately, but this is Spain and none of the good ones were willing to come out, so instead we made an appointment with a good one in Marbella the next day.

Middle sister helped me get tenant settled for the night. She wasn’t well, and vomited several times, meaning that we couldn’t leave her alone.
I had another little breakdown then, talked with big brother who suggested that it might be a good idea to listen to mom’s advise and not come out to pick him up at work at midnight while I was in such a state. Though not entirely willing to have a forced standstill (I have found that waiting drives me bonkers, while action at least keeps me from panicking) I agreed, and left middle sister to sit with tenant while I went down to write to tenant’s daughter about all that had occurred. I greeted the dogs, choked down a sandwich, and then went to bed to sleep for a few hours.

Barely caught four hours before I woke, wide-awake and one hump of tension once more. I checked on tenant, who was sleeping peacefully. Middle sister had stayed with her until about two in the morning. Grandpa had food waiting for me, though, and we ate it before I headed out to work where big brother had already started on hanging the liner of the pool.

We worked on that, and on cleaning the house, and were just about to pack up for the day when mom phoned informing me that social services was at the gate with the cops, demanding to have both Sally and Tenant. I heard most of it through the phone, and got to phoning tenant’s daughter once more, who told me that she wouldn’t object to a lawyer now, and if I would call him to help out in this case. I spoke to the embassy, promised to keep them informed, and arrived home to find that the cop and social worker had left after speaking to the lawyer on the phone.

The day wasn’t over yet, tenant had her appointment with the doctor in Marbella, so middle sister had already dressed her, and they were waiting for us to get her in the car and drive her there. That was a pleasant experience for a change. The doctor was Spanish, but his wife and assistant Dutch, which was good for tenant. They were soooo helpful, giving all sorts of helpful tips, and being very understanding about everything that had happened. We left there much reassured, and with a handful of prescriptions which we filled on our way home.

Tenant settled for the night, I cooked a late supper (barely ate half) and tried to get some writing done after keeping tenant’s daughter updated. Was in bed after one, and more than a little exhausted, yet I didn’t sleep well at all.

Woke by the phone. Grandpa told me there were four men at the gate, along with a police officer, and that at eight thirty in the morning. I went up there in my pajamas, and slowly the rest of the family followed too while we tried to figure out what was wrong NOW. They were demanding admittance and threatened that if we insisted on waiting for the court order that was underway, we would all be taken off. Seriously, our lawyer says that we’re being harassed for sure, in particular since normal police would not be sent for this sort of errands, and the last time that there was a Guardia Civil, he was in an old uniform, normal shoes and without a hat…a definite no-no, apparently. But what the heck do we know, right?
Armed with cameras, a cop car, and a card for city hall they were starting to look official. I asked little brother to take a photograph of the identity card we were shown (only one) but the guys almost when apeshit over that, saying that that was absolutely not allowed. So I phoned city hall, asking for them to confirm if they were really city hall workers. The woman wanted to speak to the one who said he was from city hall, and he started talking all quietly on the phone, clearly explaining stuff to her. Afterward she confirmed that he worked for city hall, but I should have asked her if she could describe him. Because for all I know he told her he was working for a special branch of city hall and had permission of the mayor himself to be there. *sigh*

But anyway, they were all over the property, took pictures and everything, and probably saw stuff they weren’t supposed to see. That court order never arrived, no official paperwork was handed over, and our lawyer says we were screwed over royally. Tell me about it.

But we couldn’t risk it anymore. All that stress wasn’t good for tenant, so I started making phone calls trying to find a place where she would be safe while we try to sort this stuff out. Phoned the doctor we went to, and they suggested a rather good home in Puerto Banus, but when I called they were way too expensive. So I phoned a place nearby and had just about arranged a spot there when I got a phone call from the first choice place where folks spoke Dutch, and the residents were international to say the least, and spoke to this very nice woman who explained that she was free to offer me a special deal for tenant. Something that was only slightly more expensive than the place closer to us. It would be tough to pay, but if we pitch in some of our own funds (who needs food anyway) it should be doable.

Then the hard part started. I had to explain it all to tenant who was still very weak and stressed from all the ongoing. She wasn’t pleased, in fact we both ended up in tears while I started packing her bags, and asked her if she could please be strong and go there so she could be safe and we wouldn’t have to worry about her. In the end she agreed and we packed up the Land Rover and started on our way…only to have the gear box stall on us. I kid you effing not, we had just gone up the drive sweep when the stupid thing started to not work. Aaaaargh.
Drove a couple of miles, and then decided that we couldn’t risk the long trip. So I phoned little brother (my poor phone almost went into apoplexy in those days) who drove the Opel to a meeting point where I could hop in to drive him home, while big brother drove tenant carefully to town in the Land Rover. He was waiting for me there, close to the garage where we would drop it off, (and give an explanation about what was happening. They thought it insane, too) and we transferred tenant to the Opel so we’d be on our way.

The home was a pleasant surprise. Basically in Puerto Banus, in a rather nice area, I must admit, we were let into a private parking area and welcomed by a very kind woman who saw to everything. We explained the entire situation, and their social worker would contact all the right places to let them know that tenant was safely placed in the home and everybody’s butt covered. I was much reassured by the operation there. Very professional, very good staff, and she would be sharing a spacious apartment with another lady. It wasn’t nice leaving her there, but she was tired and in good hands, I figured.

The next day, we packed up early (the Opel this time) took grandpa along so he could help big brother, and headed for work for our final day at the pool, yard and house. Did cleaning, and then left big brother and grandpa to it while I headed for Spanish class. Maria offered to help out with the translating of anything that needed translating, and I had to explain everything to her, of course. Gawd, I was so tired that there actually were times when I couldn’t form a single coherent thought in my head. But anyway, we got it done in about three hours; reading through the judicial statement our lawyer had put together, and translating a letter of explanation about tenant’s relationship with my family.
Didn’t arrive at work until later in the afternoon, but still we managed to get everything done. The pool done, the rooms we’d used cleaned, and sheets and towels washed…not to mention the thank-you gift for having been allowed to use the house.

Were late getting home. Heard from Cousin Ed that medical care is better taken care of there, and that nurses would be arriving in the morning to take care of Sally’s thrombosis and her skin. Regretfully her friend’s place is not ideal for a woman with Sally’s lack of mobility. To go to the shower they need to go along the outside of the house, and basically they are living in the living room. But that can’t be helped until they get an adjusted apartment from city hall. Such things take time.

There was still much to do when we came home, but we did manage to get to bed on time, at least.

Was a busy day the next day. Had the vet come over and finish the complete vaccinations of the dogs, which we had planned to separate in two to three times to manage funds better, but alas, it was not to be. What with city hall having been alerted, we didn’t want to risk the dogs. Spent the rest of the afternoon finishing filling in all the necessary bits in the passports and then went to Puerto Banus to visit with tenant.

She was miserable as heck, but she had spunk for the first time in ages, so I wasn’t too worried. She hates it there, she says, but the way she was acting, I couldn’t say that it was bad for her. There were many complaints (I get those, here she is used to being with us wherever we are busy at that time, while there she has to adhere to the rules and schedules of a rather big institution) but she was stronger, and in the end did understand that she was better off there until stuff is sorted out.

Once we got back, big brother had to go out again, this time with the vet assistant, who was kind enough to offer to translate for mom, while she went to the justice department in town and filed an official complaint about the ongoing mess.

Had a few busy days, mostly sorting through our storage. Basically we’re tossing everything that isn’t absolutely necessary, if only to show that we are willing to make changes for tenant, but I fear that it will have little use at this point. Government hardly ever changes its mind, does it?

On the 19th tenant had an appointment at the hospital for her catheter, so I arranged that I could take her there. Had to arrange stuff for Sally too, so that wasn’t too big a problem. Of course, after waiting for half an hour, we were let into a doctor’s office, who then told us the same story of how to treat the kidney stones, and then said we had to make an appointment to have the catheter checked at some other time. That’s what that day’s appointment was for, the twat! *sigh*

Took tenant for coffee to Funny Beach afterward, which she seemed to enjoy at least. I took that opportunity to say my goodbyes and explain a little what was happening…and was pleasantly surprised when suddenly my phone rang with a guy asking me if I was still interested in a job I’d applied to weeks ago, but hadn’t heard of. He asked if, even though he had never considered hiring two people for a single job (I’d applied for big brother and myself because we’re looking for part time work), big brother and I could come by that evening and meet with him. We agreed, of course, brought tenant back to the home, said our goodbyes while settling her in the dining room, and then rushed back down the coast.

Directions were good enough for me to be able to figure out where to go, and we arrived at the interview right on time. Had a long talk, got explained what all was involved and were seriously daunted since the stuff he explained sounded more suited for three folks, rather than two, let alone one, but he thought he would able to meet our payment, and would get back to us. We’d meet him again the next day, and immediately fix a couple of water tubes in his yard, as a sort of test.

The next day we arrived bright and early, did the job, and then went through the entire list of responsibilities involving the man’s twenty dogs, and maintaining the yard, patio and garage, for not a bad fee, just not what we expected for the hours we’d need to invest. So he suggested we think about it long and hard, which we did, and when we went by there the next day to give him our decision, we had to say no. It just wouldn’t be doable to have me do the morning shifts, big brother the evening shifts, all the commuting, the hours that would be lost with us being unable to work on the books, etc. etc. We’d just have to figure it out.

The guy took it in good spirit, which seems to be a character trait, and accepted our decision.

Have not been sleeping well at all. Very restless, waking a lot, my mind not shutting down, you know. Guess with all the uncertainty going on it is to be expected. The fact that the days are filled to full capacity doesn’t help much either, I guess…nor the worry about coppers coming to the door at any minute. Ah well, let’s hope there will be a time that we can all laugh about these wonky weeks.

Got another call from the guy with the job where he asked if maybe we couldn’t try it after all, so considering he offered that we could try it out with big brother and me working the same hours, just on different projects, we agreed to try it, and did a half day this weekend. Didn’t go bad. It is just learning how the new bosses want it done, isn’t it? And they’re nice enough about it, so all is well in that regard. We’ll get it sorted, I think.

Lots of driving about. Had to cancel Sally’s social security card, which was such a bother. I was being sent from one place to the next, only to discover in the last place that it would happen automatically when she registered in her country of origin. *sigh* Also had to cancel Cousin Ed’s insurance, otherwise it would overlap with her new one, which is a no-no, I’m guessing.

Had some really strange Spanish lessons, which mostly involved translating stuff and figuring out how to get English phrases to work in Spanish.

Been visiting tenant 3 times a week now. Bringing her clothes, which somehow got lost during all the mess, so every time there was something else that I’d forgotten or couldn’t find. Finally got the last bits on Wednesday. She’s still not happy there, but they’re involving her in all the activities (she complains that the games are fro friggin’ pre-schoolers) and she’s gradually getting stronger, so I’m pleased about that, even though I get a tad depressed when she practically begs me to take her home while that is not something that I am free to decide over until the whole social services thing is dealt with. I had to promise her that if she can’t come home, and that if she can’t be happy there, I’ll take her to her country of origin, too. Had to promise, so it will have to be done if it gets to that. *sigh*

Knight II’s foot is doing well, but Lhabana was diagnosed with Leishmania. She had big swellings on her “elbows” and ulcers, so I took her to the vet to have her checked out. She’s getting medication now and is wearing a collar cone so she can’t lick the damage. We’re going to have to see if the medication helps.
Carla is not doing well, I fear. If he gets worse, the dreaded decision is going to have to be made, because if his health declines even more, the quality of his life won’t weigh up against the bad anymore. *sigh*

Did another few hours at the job, more to learn stuff, and to help with the dogs, but that’s okay, you gotta learn some time, right?

Sally is not doing well over there in the North. The doctor is calling her pre-terminal, and her mind is rapidly slipping. In fact, yesterday morning, I heard, she wasn’t at all coherent so Cousin Ed had to have her admitted. Apparently she has a big infection again, cellulite, thrombosis that settled in her groin, a urine tract infection, and a delirium that makes her basically incoherent. Cousin Ed fears that she won’t be allowed to take her back home now, but we’ll have to see. It makes me a little sad to hear that she is dying as fast as I feared when we had to make the decision to help her go home. Nothing to live for there, after all.

Sometimes I wonder about this sadness, but then I remember that life is all about certain periods coming to an end, end this is clearly one of those. The end of an era, where all that we knew to be our life for more than 27 years, is disappearing. It is not to be sad about something like that, is it?

Well. That was a long enough blog, wasn’t it. That should bring you up to date at the very least. Let’s hope I’ll find the time to write another sometime next week, eh?

Life goes on…

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

SUSPENDED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

I don't know when I'll have time to write here again. It has been fun so far, however.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Still alive

So much has happened, so much to tell, but not the energy to do it today. Many changes over here in my world. None of them the good kind, and lots of sad news to share. Haven't gotten more than five hours of sleep per night on the average, and we have all been running all over the place since disaster struck last week.

I'm gonna tell all, but not now. First I need to sleep.
I'll be back.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Disaster struck

No song of the day, today. I’m too upset. We had some seriously disturbing news today. This very morning, while I was taking the Knight to the vet for his checkup, we got a call informing us that tenant would not be allowed to go home from the hospital, but that she had, instead, “agreed” to be admitted in a nursing home. How they had her agree to it, I don’t know, because tenant is terribly deaf, doesn’t speak more than three words of Spanish and her English isn’t any better. The only thing I can imagine happening is that they asked her if she wanted to go to a home, and that she interpreted that as “go home”. Aaargh. There went Spanish lesson.

Went to hospital immediately, of course, requested an interpreter, and went up to her room. I went in, and immediately asked what was going on, and if she had agreed to going to some sort of home. At first she had no idea what I was talking about, and then she was shocked to the core…seriously, I saw her pale, and tears gathered in her eyes. Not nice. Not nice at all, I tell ya…as she assured me that no one asked her anything, and that she just wanted to go home.

The interpreter arrived then, and I explained the situation asking if it was possible that they were just going to put her away somewhere without her agreement. She assured me that there had to be some misunderstanding and escorted me down to the social services section of the hospital. Apparently those folks that came by on Friday ambushed us, or some such, and made the decision with the doctors. Just like that. There was nothing this woman could do, either, I would have to go to the village social worker and sort it out there. She even refused to give me the name of the place tenant was being brought to, and me explaining that this would devastate tenant, and that she wouldn’t understand, didn’t sway her one bit.

So, defeated by bureaucracy it would seem, I went back to tenant to try to explain that when I left, she was going to be brought to a new room someplace else, and that I wouldn’t be seeing her for several days at least while I tried to sort out the mess. Not nice to have her apologize profusely for not drinking enough, and getting those pesky infections over and over again, either. Made me feel as if she was negotiating her being allowed to go home, or something. As if I could just change it if only she promised to drink properly. Horrid! Had to finish the conversation by telling her not to worry and just cooperate otherwise the folks might think she’s not capable of making her own decisions.

Got in contact with her family. Regretfully her daughter was at home, so I had to leave a rather messy message with tenant’s granddaughter, after which tenant’s son in law phoned to ask for more information. I didn’t have anything to give yet, much to my regret. He promised they would contact me later once daughter got home from work.

At that same time, because two o’clock was already near, caregiver tried to go to the village to see if she could get any information at the health center, but the staff there had no idea what was going on.

Once I got home, a mail of tenant’s daughter arrived, at which time I had to write down what had been happening, and what we think is going on, but that we don’t know because no one is saying anything. The family is of course understandably upset. Heck, I’m upset. Everyone is upset. Right now you could say that upset is the permanent state of being over here. *sigh* Couldn’t even eat properly afterward, and that while I hadn’t had time for breakfast either. Have been battling a massive headache all day.
Worst of it all is that grandpa and Sally are now scared beyond compare about something similar happening to them if they go to hospital. Not a good thing considering Sally’s stage IV cancer and failing general health, and grandpa needing his heart checked regularly. They both insist on seeking legal council to prevent something like this in the future. What happened with tenant, is almost kidnapping, for crying out loud.

Considering big brother and I have work tomorrow, we had to go to town to get some stuff, meaning that as soon as I was done “conversing” with tenant’s daughter, we had to go out. Got most of what we needed, and were about to exit the store when my phone rang and I finally got to speak to tenant’s daughter in person. She has contacted the embassy and as of this afternoon they are looking into the matter. It did mean that I would have to a write a more official statement, in Dutch, of all language, which is by no means easy for me these days.

But anyway, I got home to start doing exactly that, only to discover that Sally wasn’t doing well. *sigh* Seriously, what is going ON? Is this a bad streak of luck or WHAT? But anyway, it took some convincing to get her to agree to go to the small emergency room in town, rather than the big one in Marbella (she was afraid that if she went in, she wouldn’t be coming out again) but in the end she did agree to go. No way can we risk not going to the ER when her feet start to swell, and the skin on her legs start to turn purple-ish red. She’s had that before, and they warned us that if it went past the knee it could be dangerous. So big brother and caregiver are there now (already heard she was on her way home, thankfully) with her on the antibiotics just like last time. *double sigh*, while grandpa and I bent over putting together my statement in a semi-cohesive fashion.

Which brings us to now. Doesn’t it. Regretfully, there was the whole of yesterday to talk about, but what with everything going on, it feels somewhat redundant. It was a working day, and it was a scorcher, so we were a little time pressed considering we had to wait until after five for the heat to relent enough for us to continue pouring concrete. This meant that we didn’t finish until eleven (cleaning up included) to make our working hours. Can hardly charge the boss lady for sitting, waiting for the sun to become less hot while we work on the book, eh?
But anyway, we got our hours in, and managed another third of the floor pouring. Am afraid that we’re going to have to ask for another day. The heat is making progress slow.

Well, I’m going to leave it at this, and hope that I can get some work done still while I wait for big brother, caregiver and Sally to come home, and then I have to go to bed. Tomorrow we have to finish that floor after all.