The Return of a Lost Rambler.

Hello there, it’s been quite a while hasn’t it?

So much has changed since I last blogged. Almost three years, goodness me it doesn’t seem like it.

I feel quite overwhelmed trying to condense the happenings of the last few years into a few sentences. So much so, that I've been sitting here staring at a blank page for about three days. Well, not constantly you understand. I have had the odd cup of coffee.

So, where to begin?  The biggest and happiest change in our lives is (..cue fanfare..) Rhys Williams. First grandchild, apple of our eye and bundle of boundless energy.  Rhys is now two and a half and already has the vocabulary of a child much older. He isn’t afraid to tell you off and is madly in love with his Grandad. This is no exaggeration either; just ask the poor toddler at the goat farm who dared to look at Pat and smile. Rhys was having none of that as he protectively stepped in front of Pat, gabbling the toddler version of “back off girly” and as menacingly as a two year old can, told her “My Grandad”.  From the moment he could focus, he’d be scouring the room for his hero. These days, equipped with these newly developed physical and verbal tools, he’s not afraid to push you out of the way and forbid any contact with “My Grandad”. Except when he’s tired or under the weather, then Nainy gets a go with the cuddles. Our blonde haired, blue eyed, cherubic  tornado.

A few of my last blogs were somewhat cathartic. Helping me to vent some of the desperation I felt when realising the place I’d happily worked for over a decade had become a snake-pit and all the scaly, hissing bitches were aimed at me.  Eventually it became impossible to circumnavigate the venom and I had to go. I did however retain a venomous type of my own, who ensured my exit was cushioned with wads of comfort and damned smug I felt about it too. I heart lawyers.

It’s been about 3 years since I set foot in that place or seen any of the women I fondly called “the coven”. I wish I could say I missed it. Well, I could say I missed it but I’d be a big fat liar. Funnily enough those qualifications being the requirements to join said coven, as well as the ability to wield a false smile…oh, and be really ugly…really, really ugly. Okay that was unfair; the one that looked like a horse was a fine, handsome mare! Quite often I bump in ex colleagues, or people I met via this place. These occasional meetings all have one strong thing in common: the negative experiences and destructive stories. It used to be a vibrant, pleasant place to work but it seems it’s now quite the opposite.  In the meantime, it appears that the coven and various other amoebas are being picked off one by one. Fired, forced to take early retirement or frozen out. Karma is indeed, the gift that keeps on giving.

''The name of the slough was Despond.'' – A Pilgrim’s Progress. John Bunyan.

 I’m currently working for a new company that does innovative, experimental and downright scary things in the field of life science. To say I love it wouldn’t be truthful but it pays three times as much as the old place and I do love that.

Then there's me and the Mr.
Luckily, we’re still married.  Hubs has been a huge support during all the histrionic and unexpected wendings. Although he says he’s listened to everything I’ve moaned and dramatized over.  I’m still a bit suspicious that the reason he’s stayed so calm and stoic is more to do with his ability to switch my voice off in his head, watch mental re-runs of “Match of the Day” and pretend he’s paying attention.

Hubs turned 50 last summer.  So not only am I sleeping with a Grandad, I’m sleeping with a 50 year old.  It's my turn to be  mercilessly teased soon, I just hope they don’t find my stash of sanatogen and sterident before I can use age an excuse.

I'm independent again. Gary moved out but it seems like he’s home more since he re-located than he was when he lived here. He’s following a degree in Event Management. This of course means he can justify all the partying as research.  Based on the amount of time he spends partying, he seems to be a great student. I look forward to high marks and an honours degree. If he keeps partying with such fervour, possibly even an early graduation. Proud isn’t the word.

I still have some of the loveliest friends ever.   Thanks for all your encouragement and support in everything.

“Go where you are celebrated – not tolerated. If they can’t see the real value of you, it’s time for a new start.” – Unknown