Fresh Ink

I don’t even know where to begin. This loss, this grief, is so hard to bear. I miss you so much my lovely, it’s hard to breathe. Even when you were alive I missed you when I wasn’t at home, and I would always rush home early just to see you – I still can’t believe you’re not here whenever I arrive home now. This house feels so empty. I never felt so alone before, because you were always here to greet me.  If I was ever sad or upset, I knew all I had to do was come home to you, and you would make everything better.  Who’s going to make me feel better now?

I never wanted kids. Kids are noisy, messy, dirty, obnoxious, cost a fortune and make spontaneity almost impossible. But for all intents and purposes you were my child. I’d have done anything for you, given up anything for you. I don’t care if people don’t understand how long this is going to take for me to get over losing you. That’s their problem. How long does it take to get over losing a child? It will take as long as it takes.

No-one in this household has adjusted to you not being around. Eliot calls for you, that sweet old girl who shouldn’t even have a voice left, calls for you so loud it wakes me up from three rooms away. Billie Joe wanders around looking lost, and meows at me as if to ask the question, “where’s our dog, mum?”  And Michael. You were the only one Mike was ever affectionate with, he adored you. That affection he has transferred to me, he now sleeps at my side in your old spot. I should probably be grateful, except that it breaks my heart.  What kind of dog could capture the heart of three very different cat personalities genetically engineered to hate you, so completely? The best dog in the world, that’s what. And though I know you tried to give your best impression of tolerance and indifference, I know you loved them too.

I’ve put away your food & water bowl because seeing them every day made me cry. But I can’t yet bring myself to pick up your old bones, they’re still scattered all over the lawn. I still find traces of your fur everywhere. I miss rubbing your silky ears, and the way you would snuggle up to me every morning and lay your head on my stomach. I miss your beautiful face and those sad eyes; you always looked so sad, even though I knew you were happy. I miss the way you would greet me at the gate every time I came home. I miss our walks on the beach, and I can’t even bring myself to go back down there.

You were such a good dog. I could take you anywhere and know you would behave. And wherever we went, someone would inevitably tell me what a beautiful dog you were, as if I didn’t know.

I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you were scared and alone in the thunderstorm. Even though I know it was out of my control, I will feel the guilt every day for the rest of my life. I’m so, so sorry, my love.

And I will love you, and remember you every day for the rest of my life. Jack, I hope you are happy in the big dog park in the sky. I hope you found your old mate Chopper, and the two of you are watching over Lauren and I. Thank you for being the best thing in my life for the last 7 years. I will never find another like you. xxx

]]> http://cantabrian.net/?feed=rss2&p=685 1 http://cantabrian.net/?p=685 http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/One-eyedCantabrian/~3/G16TKYog0_0/ http://cantabrian.net/?p=683#comments Thu, 11 Apr 2013 05:58:52 +0000 Kama http://cantabrian.net/?p=683 I could walk around the yard barefoot in safety.

My house could be carpeted instead of tiled and laminated.

All flat surfaces, clothing, furniture, and cars would be free of hair.

When the doorbell rings, it wouldn’t sound like a kennel.

When the doorbell rings, I could get to the door without wading through fuzzy bodies who beat me there.

I could sit on the couch and my bed the way I wanted, without taking into consideration how much space several fur bodies would need to get comfortable.

I would not have strange presents under my Christmas tree — dog bones, stuffed animals, toys, treats nor would I have to explain to people why I wrap them.

I would have money … and no guilt to go on a real vacation.

I would not be on a first-name basis with 6 veterinarians, as I put their yet unborn grandkids thru college.

The most used words in my vocabulary would not be: out, sit, down, come, no, stay, and leave him/her/it ALONE.

My house would not be cordoned off into zones with baby gates or barriers.

My house would not look like a day care center, toys everywhere.

My pockets would not contain things like poop bags, treats and an extra leash.

I would no longer have to Spell the words B-A-L-L-, F-R-I-S-B-E-E, W-A-L-K,
or T-R-E-A-T.

I would not have as many leaves INSIDE my house as outside.

I would not look strangely at people who think having ONE dog/cat ties them down too much.

I’d look forward to spring and the melting of snow instead of dreading mud season.

I would not have to answer the question “Why do you have so many dogs/animals?” from people who will never have the joy in their lives of knowing they are loved unconditionally by someone as close to an angel as they will ever get.

. . . How empty my life would be.

- Author Unknown

I lost my best friend, and I’m broken. Jack, you were my best mate, my one and only love, and I will miss you every day for the rest of my life. I can’t even breathe, I miss you so much already. Every time I turn around I expect to see you there, and it hurts so much. R.I.P. my lovely J-Dogg. You were loved so much.

The year started off pretty well. I obtained a new job as Office Manager for Prima Deli, and resigned from Rainbow Print after nearly ten years. Showing their usual lack of appreciation and complete lack of people skills, my bosses pretty much ignored me for my last two weeks, and never came to say goodbye or wish me well on my last day. I knew at that moment the decision to leave was the right one.  The new job is certainly less stressful, and my bosses thank me a LOT for the work I do, which means everything.

I started running, and discovered I LIKE it. Shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise, given who my father is, but running was never really my thing.

Rugby season kicked off, for the first time I had season tickets – so good. The new temporary stadium at Addington is fantastic.

2012 was also the year the beaut ute gave up the ghost. Too much wrong, and too expensive to fix, meant I was on the hunt for a new car, and the ute was rehomed with a mechanically minded local who wanted it to cart rubbish around his lifestyle block. RIP baby. I miss you dreadfully. The ever growing pile of weeds in my driveway will attest to that.

New car is a Nissan Cefiro, or Big Cef as he is fondly known.  He’s a tank, and I love driving him.

Big Cef

March – NZ ran out of Marmite – MARMAGEDDON!

On to April, Shihad rocked us live at the Bedford, and my good friend Rachel had her 40th birthday, an all class affair at Bean Scene, for which I had to dress up. Thanks to Lauren for helping me find the perfect dress ‘cos this tomboy’s no good at that stuff :)

Rachel, Deon and me

3rd August 2012 – I turn 40. Am unsure quite where the years went and I don’t feel that old in the slightest. Just a small gathering of friends and family at the Bailey parents, and a beautiful cake made by the lovely Lou. Despite the no present rule, some lovely gifts were gratefully received, including the box set of the 3 albums Uno, Dos, Tre by Green Day due to be released this year – thanks Rachel & Nick!

10th August – welcome to the world our new cousin, Loukas Theo Mavromatis! Cool name, dude.

Also in August, my nephew Braedan wins Player of the Year in his first rugby season, with 59 tries. Aunty Kama could not be prouder.

September – I ran 10km for the first time in my life. Injured my foot in the process but worth it to reach that goal. Happy to stick to my 5-6km runs from now on though.

October – Canterbury wins the ITM Cup final for the 5th year straight. #rugbychicks are ecstatic in their new hoodies.  I make a return to the beach volleyball competition, with my old team Czechnz – still in top division but we’re a wee bit rusty. Better luck post-Xmas! Also ZM falsely announces a Green Day tour to NZ for March 2013 and gets my hopes up.  This doesn’t eventuate as Billie Joe goes into rehab and everything is cancelled. Get better Billie!

December – and one of the best Christmases in years – the whole family were home; Matt, Yuka and baby Taila from Japan, Hayden, Sarah, Harlen & Amalie from Melbourne, Chris, Kallie, Micah & Charlotte down from Wellington, plus me, Mum, Dad, Lauren, Braedan & Kase. BIG family gathering! Lou joined us as well, and we ate and drank too much as is pretty much standard at the Bailey household! So good to see the family all together. And man, we breed cute babies in this family.

And with that, 2012 came to a close, and the world didn’t end so I’d have to say it was a pretty good year ;-)

2011 started with a bang in Canterbury. And a shake, rattle and roll. In the form of a 6.3 earthquake on February 22nd which, sadly, took lives and destroyed much of my city, and people’s lives. I was one of the very lucky ones. None of my family or friends were hurt, or too badly affected. My workplace was operational, my home was safe and in good working order with no loss of water or power.

A few days later, our family was blessed with the birth of a healthy baby boy, to my sister, Kase James Bailey. I adore him in ways I never thought possible. Who could resist this face?

Kase James Bailey

In March, I moved out of my home, and into “Woodglen Retreat”, the fond name I have given my rental home in Woodend. Things were a struggle financially for a while until I sold my house in Hornby, and still are to be honest (thanks for nothing Westpac!), but the peace I have found here is worth any price.

Our earthquake was bad enough, but to put things in perspective, Japan was hit by a powerful 8.9 quake on March 11th, triggering a huge tsunami, and causing well over 15,000 deaths with many more injured or missing.

In June, Christchurch was hit again by earthquakes, a 5.6 and a 6.3 in quick succession. More damage, more soul-destroying liquefaction in eastern suburbs, but luckily no more lives lost.

On July 17th my brother Matt got married to Yuka in Japan, I watched the beautiful ceremony live on streaming internet. Ain’t technology grand?

July and August saw two heavy snow falls which effectively closed Christchurch down, or what was left of it. Just what our businesses needed in a quake ridden recession, but oh well, a couple of days off work ;)

September 1st gave me my first niece, Charlotte, born to my little brother Chris and his wife Kallie. September also brought the Rugby World Cup to our shores. The most nerve-wracking 6 weeks of my year, culminating in a courageous win by our team, the All Blacks. Many tears were shed. Most of them happy.

On Wednesday 5th October, the container ship Rena ran aground on the Astrolabe Reef off the coast of Tauranga, causing an enormous oil spill, classed as New Zealand’s worst maritime environmental disaster. The same day, the Chairman of the Board of Apple, Steve Jobs, died.

Which brings us to December and a short holiday in Auckland for the Foo Fighters concert, which rocked Western Springs, and caused a few earth shakes of a different kind :)  Then two more additions to my family, nephew Taila born to Matt and Yuka in Japan, and Connor, born to Amber & Rob.

For me, 2011 brought all kinds of good into my life. The good definitely outweighed the bad. My New Year’s Resolution for 2012? To start seriously looking to change my career path – though there are still a lot of times that I love my job, I’m not sure my body is up to the physicality of it anymore, and I need a change.

To all my family and friends, I love you all – I wish you all a Happy New Year, and that 2012 brings you everything you wish for.

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.” - Albert Einstein

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own, even if she never wants to or needs to…
something perfect to wear if the employer, or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a youth she’s content to leave behind…. a past juicy enough that she’s looking forward to retelling it in her old age….
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra…
one friend who always makes her laugh…
and one who lets her cry…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family…
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal, that will make her guests feel honored…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a feeling of control over her destiny…
how to fall in love without losing herself..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
how to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without; ruining the friendship….

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
when to try harder…
and WHEN TO WALK AWAY…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
that she can’t change the length of her calves, the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..
that her childhood may not have been perfect…
but it’s over…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
what she would and wouldn’t do for love or more…
how to live alone…
even if she doesn’t like it…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
whom she can trust, whom she can’t, and why she shouldn’t take it personally…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
where to go…
be it to her best friend’s kitchen table…
or a charming Inn in the woods…
when her soul needs soothing…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
What she can and can’t accomplish in a day…
a month…
and a year…

Yet, every year at this time, thousands of us protest verbally at the ongoing sale of fireworks to the public. The Fire Service have to attend dozens, if not hundreds of callouts. And the government does nothing.

I have nothing against public fireworks displays, I enjoy them myself. As long as they are not smack bang within a residential area. You know the time they are due to start, and finish, and can prepare accordingly. There’s no risk of a neighbour “accidentally” hitting your window with one, setting your roof on fire, or giving you and your furkids a fright by letting one off unexpectedly right by your fence line, at any given time of day or night, for a week before, and weeks after the designated Guy Fawkes night. Because let’s face it, no-one sticks to the laws surrounding when you are allowed to light these sticks of death. And no-one enforces said laws either. I heard tonight on Twitter that Noise Control refused to even respond to complaints if they were firework related, regardless of the time of night, and if the noise is keeping neighbours awake. Not that it surprises me, I had to sell my home because Noise Control are completely ineffectual.

I could care less about the injuries stupid people do to themselves doing stupid things with fireworks. I DO care about the damage stupid people cause to other people’s property with them, and the cruelty to animals. Not just the physical cruelty assholes impose on animals, but the mental stress caused by the noise. Simply keeping your animals inside, is NOT a good enough solution, and anyone who thinks so, is an idiot. I can have my doors, windows and curtains closed and be hosting a raging punk rock concert in my lounge via DVD, and my dog can still hear them and freak out. I’ve tried everything for my boy, from trying to carry on with my evening and pretend everything is normal, to distractions, to rescue remedies, nothing works for him. Once he has heard the first firework go off, he goes into panic mode, nothing calms him down, and he will be jumpy for weeks afterwards.  Is that at all fair?

If you’d ever seen my 30 kilo black labrador try to squeeze himself shaking and panting into a space the size of a shoebox to try to protect himself from a terrifying noise he couldn’t possibly understand, you might feel the same. Unless you have rocks where your heart should be.

It’s about time the government realised the stupid people will always be stupid people (has the drink driving message got through yet, do you think?), and remove the source of the problem. The fireworks, I mean, not the stupid people (although….there’s an idea too).   It’s not like they’d be missing much, the store bought fireworks, by all accounts, are fairly pathetic, made for bang rather than visual effect.

And as I write this, the cat just projectile vomited all over the dog. Another highly successful Guy Fawkes evening draws to a close.

Through the mists of time, a figure stands tall.
An All Black legend above them all.
He played with power, poise and pace,
an Iron man, with an honest face.

Smart as a fox, he soon rose to fame,
a soldier’s instinct in a magnificent game.
Hard as nails, proud and true,
the superhuman from Oamaru.

The name of McCaw still rings aloud,
the pride of every kiwi crowd.
Richie was a hero, a leader of men,
his men would follow him to the very end.

A humble man respected by all.
He made sure a rise would follow each fall.
A nation inspired even though he was sprained,
held together by metal, on and on he bravely played.

All these years later his presence still felt,
so many proud victories under his belt.
His gift to our country is very clear,
Oamaru’s gift to New Zealand held so dear.