The Momma went out to lunch wiff Auntie G. They went to a place out back and groceries shopping and pet store shopping.

Gavin and I has lots of cookies and big bag of food now, we won’t starve!

She also gaved us some steak from out back, told the Daddy they cooked it wrong and she did not want to complain but couldn’t eat it that done and tuff.

They gived her a new steak cooked perfectly and she brought us the one they cooked wrong.

I didn’t smell nothing wrong wiff it. I thoughted it was berry good.

Yes, I did too share it with the Gavin brother.

So it was The Curmudgeon’s birthday today. He’s now 63.

G brought him cake.

I got my revenge for the Christmas present vacuum cleaner he gave me many years ago by presenting him with a new rollator the other day.

So G and I didn’t hit the lottery.

Which means still no escape from this life as a caregiver in a falling down around our ears home.

No beach home…. yet.

No spa like care facility for The Curmudgeon.

No financing more research into a cure for MS.

So I have been ill the last few days. Dealing with an “if I hadn’t forgotten to take my medications three days in a row” problem.

Yeah, I get sidetracked by The Curmudgeon and dogs so often some days that I really do forget to take my daytime medications.

Doing much better after two days of TAKING  ALL my medications.

Every day on Facebook there are many stories of someone’s ailment or their pet’s ailment or so much death.

I wake each day, full of dread, at just having to face my husband’s Multiple Sclerosis.

I find I am online for less and less time each day.

I feel myself withdrawing more and more into an insular life.

This is not a good thing.

I can’t help it.

I am tired of everything.

One of these days, I’ll manage to make and keep the appointment for my carpal tunnel. Half of my left hand is constantly numb.

Seems every time I’ve made an appointment for my hand, he’s gone into the hospital and I’ve had to cancel it.

Heaven knows how I’d manage surgery on it anyway. There’s no one that will take care of him and the dogs.

Yes, I NEED to hit the lottery so I can have a life.

In this house making plans is a lesson in futility. Never fails, if I make plans, The Curmudgeon has a bad day and wrecks them, or one of the dogs has issues.

I planned to go grocery shopping. I never made it out the door.

Nope, Lucy did something she hasn’t done for a long while. She ate her poop. Then she threw up in her crate. The stench! OMG, the stench!

Oh, boy, howdy, does my gag reflex work well. Got so bad, The Curmudgeon finished cleaning out her crate.

Afterwards, I had to wash all the dog bedding and even threw in the covering on the couch while I was at it.

The house smells better now.

That will teach you to not take me out when I wake up.

At least we’re not in the teens or below.

Lucy and Gavin still wasted no time again doing their business. Hooray, I am never fond of the cold and the less time spent in it the happier I am.

The Curmudgeon had a poor walking day. It’s hard to see him barely able to get around even with his walker. Harder still, knowing it’s only going to get worse.

I find myself wishing every day that we lived on a beach, stress levels down to nothing, and no stairs for him to climb.

We can’t even find anyone to fix the porch. I need the attic cleaned to and can’t find anyone willing to do it. You see they are small jobs and not worth anyone’s time. So we’re stuck with the mess and the stress.

Time to take Lucy out, she’s looking for her hat and hoodie. Silly girl.

The steps are worse than this now. Sucks I can’t find anyone to fix them.

I was the only one awake in my house.

When the New Year crept in…

Some idiots set off fireworks that woke up and upset our Lucy. She’s settled back down and snoring again.

When the New Year Crept in…

I didn’t drink any champagne this time. I didn’t wish anyone Happy New Year.

When the New Year crept in…

I cried. I kept thinking about facing another year the same or worse than the last one.

When did we stop talking to each other and instead turned it all into a snipe fest? We’re all snide remarks, bitching, and arguing with each other all the time now it seems.

I’m angry all the time, not good for the heart for sure.

I wish I could go back to that exact moment and end it before it starts. If it took leaving, I wish I’d done it then, before I became this nasty person I don’t like at all.

I am tired of this. So very tired.

Happy fucking New Year.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 14,000 times in 2015. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 5 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Why is it when I have nothing planned for the day and think I can sleep for a bit to try to catch up on lost sleep a bit, it never happens?

Lucy decided that barking was the fun thing to do off and on all freaking day.

Gavin’s choice was to be a whiny butt.

The Curmudgeon was at his annoying best all day.

There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to make me a nice person.