Tuesday, January 31, 2017

the end of an era: no more chocolate throne

Well, if I had to put my finger on the most distasteful part of my parents' home decorating decisions over the years, it'd be the choice of a brown toilet for the laundry toilet, from here forth known as "my toilet" or "the chocolate throne". The chocolate throne is going however, and I could not be more delighted, and at last, amused (having been most unamused by it for nearly 30 years). This is how I broke the news to my eldest niece (who is close to me in age)

So there you have it, the essence of the whole distasteful thing - why would anyone make a poo coloured toilet, and who on Earth would buy one? When questioned on this, my mother responded that it was a choice between green and brown. OH MY GOD THERE WAS ANOTHER CHOICE?

Well wait actually, it gets stranger, because there was another choice altogether, the colour they put in their bathroom was a lovely light doe skin. Why not order two of these? The mind boggles!

My chocolate throne:
Their doe skin throne:
Why would you think you couldn't have two toilets the same colour in the same house, oh wait, it was the 80's. PS the doe skin is getting replaced too. Currently you can only flush it by reaching in and pulling something up to manually flush.... yeah, not happy about that, so not doing that!

When breaking the news to my like minded niece, she inquired about something else I find distastefully Australian in my throne room (again, not decorated by me)

 The dunny poem, The Australian Dunny by Roy T. H. Manning is printed on a tea towel hanging from dusty rod and twine.
It will frankly be the first thing I take down when given that power.

So tomorrow, while I unwind and enjoy getting my colour and cut done at my hairdresser's the chocolate throne shall be unceremoniously removed and replaced. Long live my new ivory throne, may it serve well for the lifetime of this house.

Friday, January 13, 2017

the state of the union

If you're wondering how we are getting along.... well you see, its like this:

Daily serious ruffling of the feathers, with intermittent outbreaks of fire, some passive aggression, the occasional bonding over dessert or a joke (at someone else's expense) and then we rupture over some other issue and it all starts again the next day.

Sadly it seems like a lot of our suffering has come from Dad not being diagnosed for Parkinson's and therefore having absolutely no assistance for his mental and emotional decline related to that over the past 15 years. Meaning, Mum and I cop the brunt of his depression, anxiety, low self esteem, and the fact that he can't hear us doesn't stop him from screaming "fucking shut up" at us like a total savage when we are not in fact having a go at him and might actually be discussing our shared loathing of Pokemon Go, or our Liberal government (state or federal, you pick).

My parents who probably should have been divorced in the mid 1980's will be married 42 years in March. People always say they stay together for the kids, in our case I think to torture the kid, but what can you do? They think they are a great couple. They say the nastiest and most juvenile things to each other multiple times a day before settling down to hold hands in front of the tv every evening, so go figure.

The house is starting to show its age. The windows sound like car crashes when you close them (its like screeching tyres followed by a loud impact). I did not get the lock fixed on the bathroom for my birthday and am still showering in a state of constant alert. My toilet was starting to have difficulty flushing on half flush, so my Dad, determined to fix it, rendered it more broken than ever before so that we can only use the full flush. He talks about having another go at it, and I'm afraid I'll end up with a totally broken toilet. Won't that be nice!

There aren't enough power outlets in the kitchen. There's not enough bench space in the kitchen. There's a seriously dodgy corner pantry (that is not a walk in, and you literally have to poke your arm in blindly to the far corners and hope you get what you want without smashing anything made of glass) and my excess food is stored in a cupboard in my office but at least with the dog bed being pushed hard up against those doors at night I'm pretty sure mice will never get in to raid.

I constantly find disembodied band aids in the bathroom, kitchen, and laundry. Usually soggy, dirty looking things. The floor around the dining table is usually good for a used toothpick or two. The dog licks the carpet hoping for cheese and bread crumbs, but cereal is also a fave.

Anything I cull because I seem to be the only one aware of how limited space is in this house, gets adopted by one of my parents before it hits the bin or the roadside bring out your dead collection. At a time when I've switched to kindle and iBooks because we just can't keep accumulating books, my parents have stopped going to the library and are bringing in hundreds of books they've purchased and are mounting up in the house like I can't describe. They NEVER bought books all my life, only read for free from the library, but now apparently is the time to be fast and loose with the money! As long as its for fun things and not helpful things like I don't know home maintenance and getting a handyman.

Dad, in my opinion, is about ready to lose his key privileges. Its hard to say that to a parent, but honestly the number of alarmed searches for vital keys he has lost is getting to be too much. We have spares, but we don't want his keys falling into the wrong hands.

I'm not sure how long Mum will continue to drive for, though at least our lives improved in one significant way last year, and that was my parents were assessed and approved for subsidised gardening help and driving - since I don't drive at all, they really need that help getting to out of town medical appointments. Dear God, the medical appointments alone are never ending and overwhelming.

And somewhere, amid all this screaming, I manage to run my business, Starzyia, and perhaps haven't completely lost my mind!