a space for me... not read by many... like an early meeting, early on the journey... where people sit on the edge of the seat- waiting for their turn to share... and the other stuff seeps in around the edges... ...stimulating the taste-buds for learning...

I had to taylor my talks about not being angry too much- or not seeming too much like a victim- but fact was I was a victim- and the only person left in the world- who could pick me up- was me.

I have become self-employed, part time. I am 69. But i want to keep busy and engaged.

Latterly I moved in the with the concept of "occam's razor"- which means -deal with one issue at a time.

There is some merit in this.

I vowed and declared that I would not get involved with my nephew unless I was asked. But another aunty asked me- not his mother. I have been offside with his mother. There was a family group conference held to decide the fate of his kids.

Both he and his ex have been using meth.

I fostered nephew when he was 15- and he loves and respects me. Family dynamics were such- that the was little permanent impact on this.

His ex. told me she had been to an NA meeting- which had been my suggestion.

Welfare did not think much of this at all. Outside of their radar. K. had been to 9 parenting courses- nine!

Welfare asked her if she was going to make new friends. She said she had made a new friend in rehab. Tut-tut they said. Rehab is not a place where you get a diagnosis, treatment and cure. Well, not right away, at the very least!

It is tricky- the disease is cunning and baffling. So having a friendship there is one baby step at least!

Actually I had reported her to welfare in December. It was tough to do but necessary. She is very close to her kids becoming 'wards of the state'. Hence her desire to get along to rehab.

In the end- her parents are going to care for the kids this year. And the boys can go to the same school. a really good outcome, considering...

It was sickening to me- the whole thing- generation after generation.

I think the patriarch of that family- joining the navy at the age of 15. Being discharged after battle in 1943- and leaving a trail of havoc. Truly.

A different kind of havoc- than my branch of the family- but wreckage, just the same.

This weekend wee are going to a rowing regatta 90 mins away. Two grandkids are competing.

I have a nice hat- and I am going to wear something nice- just slightly more catchy than normal.

Life goes on.   -D.

Comments and encouragement, must welcome- any kind of ESH.