Saturday, 10 January 2015



Well, my dears, where to begin?
I simply must get a fag and a drink ...what follows sounds rather fanciful, and NO I am not "in vino collapso" even 'tho it's 1 am ..the day has passed by in a flit...  Well one thing has lead to another and it's now 4 am..Husband and freinds shoot off to StAnton at  5am..see last post if you are a single girl looking for a "fit" fella! 

Anyway the cat's away etc and I am being totally disgusting smoking and drinking in bed propped up against fabulous linen (i have a bit of a fetish over exquisite sheets and bedding in general)

So,Charles and Teddy are somewhere in the house...Both in theDeath room?  We have had sundry strange people pop in for different purposes. A Photographer acquaintance of mine popped by with a lingerie model who is in fact a stripper of seriously diminished neuronal activity....when i called them down for lunch, i found them doing a porno shoot in the Moroccan room...oh dear,  I mean to say , this may smell like a brothel in shang hi, but we don't have to behave  as if it is one too.
A few days later with house looking like there has been a constant party

Teddy is from Alabama..lovely southern drawl and calls all the females "mam".  I have known him for about twenty years , a  struggling pianist living in a small studio flat in a very chic part of London.  His studio appears even smaller than it is.. ,dominated by a grand piano, and, hardly visible, a small sofa bed..The walls have some lovely pictures hiding the damp patches and peeling paint..a copy of a Picasso and a few paintings dedicated to him by various artists unknown to me ,but that means nothing, as i know sod all to a jam tart about art.
When ever I am in his area,(not so often as I would've liked  in the last 6yrs) I drop by  and can quite honestly, listen to him play for hours..he adores Beethoven as do .  He has real talent but apparently not the good luck or right connections to hit the big time ..this doesn't seem to worry him too much.Any way, out of the blue he came down  to join our eclectic group...he immediately hit the Steinway and we were all transported...up here in my room ,i can hear Chopin drifting upwards......Anyway after a few drinks, he told me why he had to come down here from London...I'll try to make it brief, as the story is complicated as it is extraordinary.
His real name is Edward ,3 other names) the third. And his parents are livid that he decided to live in London as a musician when he should be back in Alabama running a ranch,  and the family fortune...Evidently his dad is about to "peg it" so Teddy is trying to escape his mother and trustees coming  to force him back to the old homestead.
Well, he's not having much luck there, as I have just received a call from someone sounding as if they are straight out of "gone with the wind" announcing that she is Edward's mother and is preparing to arrive here very soon..blimey!...husband comes back from skiing in two days...what on earth is he going to make of it all? Bloody hell, i'd better start clearing the place up....things half wrapped for Corsica in every room..oh, i meant to tell you about the dream house  no time for that now..domestic chores are calling.
Toodle pip for now ,Morag. 

Monday, 29 December 2014



What do you think of the fancy photography?
 (For the purpose of the only reader of this "great ouvre" who has divulged their identity and who lives in California  (and we know that the UK and USA are one culture separated by two languages) got the quote wrong,but you get the gist..ie elevator/lift...trunk/boot, sidewalk/pavement .
She's my pen pal of some years standing, I have never met her but I count her a good friend..and intend to visit soon..so watch out Cal Gal! 
 I shall check into a nearby hotel and we will have a laugh prior to me buzzing off to LA. She has a house on the ocean,probably lapping up rays with some wine and a handsome man, as I speak...while I am cuddled up in front of the fire  trying to keep warm)..Hi there Cal Gal!

Any way , Sods Law,says something to the effect, that if things can get worse,they will, AND at the Most inconvenient moment..."It was fore ever thus"......and so my lamentable story continues..

.Any one who has read my last post will be aware of the rather fragile state of affairs my body is in (mostly self inflicted).....Incidentally, it is currently 1 am in the morning, I am on my own downstairs listening to the positive cacophony of  snoring coming from those lucky chaps up stairs who are evidently well into the "land of nod" and I am in a VERY bad mood.
1)By Christmas eve, a corset of the old fashioned boned kind,was  helping with the ? cracked rib. 

2)Wearing gloves stopped the blood and pus oozing from my hands and they were healing well.......
painful but on the mend.

3) Teeth and maxilla less painful having started antibiotics. 
4) sight returning and less painful, so Xmas eve was spent quietly with husband  and the Haut Couturier, Charles Svingholm, sewing real pearls and other delightful looking jewels onto a dress that he is making for me to wear   for when husband and I make our marriage renewal vows in Corsica...Oh yes, I got the house of my dreams but I won't digress onto that yet if at all.
Table had been set, theme silver and pale blue...rather chic I thought. Food prepared for when my brother ,sister in law and 4 kids arrived...and a few friends...don't know why, but I have always felt I must make a big effort for them all as they enjoy eating so much...like locusts, the fridges were stripped bare...but my Orthopaedic surgeon brother's hobby is fine wines.(yum yum) so I was feeling pretty pleased with my organisational skills even 'tho there was all the finishing off to be done........
...Then BANG!!!! 5am Christmas day, right eye blew up and agony set in. With loss of vision..this bloody bone graft in my face and teeth  hurting like hell and my hands cracking open again bleeding all over the place...so much for my super glue treatment...what could i do ? 

I think below photo says it all.

Michelle was summoned and when sister in law arrived, they were told by husband to take over proceedings while I tried to anaesthetise myself with drugs and alcohol..with a certain amount of success...Charles was not party to the kitchen activities as his mother would never allow him into the kitchen as it would displace the servants from their job!!! (Johny foreigners are sometimes a weird lot..but sooo charismatic!)  Can you imagine, he did't know what a raw potato looked like! By the way, Charles is only the name he uses in England as he tries to escape the shadow of his family and "make it" on his own.It is a real privilege to have him here and watch him create these wonderful works of art including hand made lace...he offered to teach husband how to do it..husband gave him 'the fish eye"

.Any way, made it through xmas day, breaking my only soup tureen and several glasses.....nieces and nephews thrilled with presents particularly my nephew, for whom I had bought a bass guitar and was teaching him the rudiments of 12 bar blues.....
Then boxing day when the masses arrived...danced tango most of the time wearing Charles's clothes ..they really are spectacular ..all hand sewn..It mesmerises me to watch him. He says he gets so absorbed that he frequently sews for 48 hrs or more ,forgetting to eat or even have a piss...now that is something most women of my age could never do..am always having to go to the "Loo"(english for what the yanks euphemistically call "the bathroom") .the concentration required doing the tango with very limited vision helped the pain..
The teenagers were in the conservatory smoking "cigarets" that husband said made the house smell like a brothel in Shang Hi (how does he know?)

  Non dancing adults chatting and eating round the table ( foie gras , duck in black current sauce,  xmas pud  and mince pies with brandy cream)

Seven  screaming 8 yr old boys running riot with toy guns. In spite of the chaos everyone seemed to have a great time
Had to dance blind but have practiced martial arts blindfold for years.
 so it could have been worse..note gloves to hide not only hands but "lizard" arms...oh the joy of a crumbling body!
Managed to stick stiletto heel right 'thro the fine silk chiffon (suppose less anti social than 'thro someone's throat which I had to do while traveling this summer...)

 So managed to stagger 'tho boxing day,but only because of Michelle...I gave her some extra presents including a"Family ring". I was going to give it to the daughter in law, but since "that lot" have not seen fit to send a card, 'phone, or even say thank you for the huge box of presents and cards I had a courier deliver to their place in time for Xmas Eve,I have decided to give my family valuable stuff away while I'm still alive....The adorable actress to whom youngest son is engaged, not only sent me a beautiful montage AND they rang up from LA AND she said thank you for the things I sent to her ..Oh hell, she's a brilliant actress ..what if she's just pretending to like me ?..but I've known her for two years and am certain she's sincere...whereas the other one ,met my eldest, immediately fell pregnant before anyone ,including eldest son got to know her....I was so shocked at her most explicit fishwife's mouth full of vitriol that she felt about me at my youngest son's engagement party.(Yes I'm STILL banging on about that). I mean to say , you don't speak to ANYONE like that ,much less your mother in law who has given you so much.and welcomed her into the family warmly...so I thought to my self..
"This can't be the first time at 38, that she's screamed at someone like a banshee on heat"

..So, as is often the case when people are vile for no apparent reason, I made a few calls  to find out a bit about her behaviour before meeting eldest son...no I am not quite that old that I don't still have some friends alive in huh places from the past who specialise in that sort of thing....Big surprise..she has "form" for  verbal abuse and much more....but goodness, she deserves an Oscar,  as prior to the marriage she was SO charming to me,  ok sycophantic would be a better word.... always calling for a quick chat ,remembering to send a lovely birthday card and present (nothing this year except to ignore my emails calls and invitations ) and when staying over xmas said how much she thanked and loved me.....Ha! Now, she says I'm poison ... etc etc.........Yes, it is SHE who deserves an Oscar! I wonder what she hopes to gain from alienating me...I honestly don't think she has the neuronal ability to foresee the consequences of her actions ...some people who vaguely know her say that she has a very forceful
 personality and I am told by many that she evidently finds me a threat!  What a silly woman...she doesn't understand that although her spiteful words hurt ,I am happy that she has made my son happy...but I have to write a new will this week in french because of my fabulous new property in Corsica....since "they" are not interested in me in life, I can see no reason why they would be interested in me in death....I assume they're too rich to be concerned with my money, but my grandmother's stuff is beautiful. Jewellery, a few valuable pictures.....Am I being mean in thinking of giving them all to people who are my friends rather than someone who would probably just sell them, as I can't think that she would want anything that would remind her of someone "poisonous"  or am I just taking a firm role? 
  I have always found it a good tenet to live by the expression 
"Do as you would be done by"
Well, while I hope I would never stoop to the level of the Glaswegian gutter, I do not see anything wrong in excluding them from my will...after all my eldest should inherit from his father who apparently is loaded but has a stable of women to support.....having a big, over functioning cock must be very expensive,but they really shouldn't have great expectations from me and certainly not if they unkind .....and yes Cal gal, under other circumstances, they might be able to use my grand daughter as leverage, but since I have hardly seen her , I have no bond with her the way I no with my stack load of God children.

Blimey, it's 4 am and no matter how many pain killers I take, I still feel like taking a gun to my head.....................But I have completely digressed from the topic of "mother's ruin" which is an old fashioned expression for gin. (see paintings by Hogarth who specialised in painting gin cracked women)..I have one, but it's value is completely lost after it "fell" onto two billiard cues and required major restoration.

So here is the tipple of desperation that I took for the first time last night...gin and co co nut water...lets be truthful ,gin with no more than a tad of co co nut water.....and oh dear, the consequences were dire.

Feeling "on a roll", I started experimenting with some dance steps and jumped into the full splits...something my body is simply NOT designed to do...but that's the effect of "mothers ruin"for you.....naturally I tore some ligaments in my perineal area (down stairs department) and can now hardly walk.
Crickey! It's now 5. 30 am and I can hear husband getting up...better finish the gin before he finds me here

Just before the splits episode.

Well I have a Tango lesson in three hours....must call surgeon and tell him to bring forward my next big operation as I am too wet to put up with this disgusting problem any longer..if I were a masochist I would be getting my rocks off like billio, but regrettably pain does NOT turn me on..even if I have to miss skiing in Austria ...well, accompanying those who ski...I can't see my knees never mind my feet and st Anton is my least favourite place...very cold and all the runs are vile with moguls ..BUT TAKE NOTE SINGLE WOMEN..it is the best place to pick up gorgeous chaps, who ,unusually for a ski resort ,out number the women roughly 10 to 1...This is because the skiing is "extreme" and only nutters or fabulous skiers go there....If I go (which I now find unlikely) I was going to write a film script I have been commissioned to do......haven't written any scripts that I have sold since the 80's but I hope it's like riding a bicycle...stupid analogy since I obviously can't ride a bicycle any more than I can drive a car...but I have a couple of very cute drivers!
Talking of masochists, I have often wondered what a "torturer" would do if the more severe the pain he inflicted on his victim, the more the victim would enjoy himself.....we humans are a funny old lot...barely down from the trees.
Well it's toddle pip from me and a very Happy New Year to all from Morag.

Monday, 22 December 2014


3.15 AM,Monday morning before Christmas.

What a strange activity modelling is....really just dressing up and showing off..
Angel, C.E.O of "models of diversity" with her team of models,photographers and makeup artists arrived like a whirlwind a few hours after last post, and ,no, i never did get to sleep which is pretty obvious as seen by pics of me,over made up and looking rather "morning after night before."

Husband's eyes popped out on stalks when he saw some of the Lingerie models arrive..out came his smart 'phone and snap, snap, snap,he joined the pro photographers taking pics of bosoms and bottoms..Haven't seen him enjoy himself so much for a while....are all men just sooo predictable....a bit of saucy flesh and it's 7th heaven....he was particularly taken with a professional striper specialising in pole dancing..can't show you those pics as
 a)they are on his 'phone and
 b) this is NOT that type of blog..so just use your imagination.
Husband checking out his lingerie shots in kitchen.

OH BLOODY HELL! I can't BELIEVE it...The smoke alarm has just gone off and part of the kitchen is on fire...had to open all windows(bloody freezing..there's a good frost outside) and use fire extingisher.
You see, just before i started to ramble away on thoughts various, to anyone interested enough to read my rambles i.e. 3 "followers" but strangely a few thousand readers in USA (I do hope they're not reading this to get an idea of a "normal" English family..'cos "normal" we certainly are not.....)
Eldest son tells me "You do know that you are seriously mad" and just to emphasise the point  he gave me an intense stare (am sure he practises it in front of the mirror)  and repeated "I mean really seriously mad"
Of course the computer stratosphere is probably keeping an eye on all our blogs(not to mention the bloogspot spies about whom i have already made my thoughts abundantly clear...a lot of nosey parkers if you ask me ,which you haven't ).
Anyway, I thought i'd do some cooking ..left pan on gas stove and the whole thing is burnt to a cinder with kitchen full of smoke........oh oh..here husband comes..can hear him getting out of bed and marching down the stairs..prepare myself for a ticking off, re my ineptitude and forgetfulness in the culinary department again...You see, although i won that TV thing "Come Dine With Me" (greatest fun doing it)..I really am a dolt in the kitchen as i keep forgetting what i am cooking and  which oven i am using....

"I see you've set the kitchen on fire again...burnt anything that i would have liked?"says husband with a surprising degree of nonchalance.

Heavens to betsy! he's changed since my departure to roam the Greek islands...(see post "I get a terrible shock" for explanation as to why I did a runner and had all his Law  company assets frozen only to have 18 legal rotweillers/ partners, threaten to sue me and make me bankrupt, what bollocks! ..they must have forgotten that I read law myself just for interest...actually thats a lie, it was for a drunken bet.They were just scared stiff when i brought it to their attention that I am not the silly blonde twit that I so often appear to be.. anyway the whole excersise showed them not to mess with a Viking!) Formally,husband would have  called me an irresponsible idiot....now he just kissed me and told me not to worry!
However ,re kitchen, I have burnt my only soup ladle.

I think it looks rather artistic,but the whole house is now impregnated with smoke.

Now that particular drama is over ..and it's still only 5 am ..he's gone to work and I shall try and get back to what I was saying...oh yes ,the shoot...well you can see from the appalling amount of make up I have  on (the make up artist was sadly no magician) that at my age , it is not a good idea to stay up all night and "push on 'thro the way one did years ago.

Frances Cardoso, brilliant teacher,looking VERY exotic.

At least my face isn't showing!

At this stage i must mention that the fabulous frocks i am wearing (in my opinion ) are made by the most creative designer
 Charles svingholm.
Now time for a fag and a strong coffee to prepare for what other dramas will happen today..and there undoubtedly will be some.

Of course, I now realise that this blog is no longer anonymous as i intended it to be, so as not to embarrass certain people, but quite frankly,I don't really care now as I imagine the only people who may "take offence"....(and haven't you noticed how "fashionable" it has become to "take offence"?) are those who I feel have been rather unkind...so stuff them!.....

Eldest son with wife and daughter.

Eldest step daughter with my grand daughter
Wonderful "nanny" without whom I would be in permanent chaos!
Youngest son shows off engagement ring on lovely,fabulous fiancĂ©

Friday, 19 December 2014


Well, I  suppose it's technically "good morning from Morag"....'tho being 3 am and there being just not the remotest possibility of having a liaison with Morpheous(spelling?) I am feeling fucking pissed off...yes,I know resorting to the vernacular indicates an inability to express oneself properly but bloody, bloody hell, I have been such a fuck wit ,the men in white coats are certain to turn up unless i pull myself together pronto...(and you frightful google spies, i would appreciate it if you were not to interfere and edit what i am writing as you so often do...i mean to say ,it's not as if i'm about to make a bomb to blow up parliament ,,,'tho goodness knows those idiots who inhabit that rarefied arena could do with some dynamite up their  collective fundements(note i did NOT say arses)..remember this is MY blog and you should be jolly grateful that people like me blog away to our hearts content...if we didn't ,you'd all be out of a job....so just think about that!!!)
Anyway,it started with the tree......fully dressed in all it's finery it toppled over...obviously been at the gin..what a mess, just when i have a stack load of people coming...now those of you who know me will be aware that with my diminishing eye sight, clearing up was tricky...but done..will try and upload picture even 'tho i know you couldn't care less.

 Then,some hours later ,the old eyes really did play up while i was trying to cook...i picked up what i thought was an empty pan but it was full of boiling oil...both hands completely burnt..over the next two days ,they blew up cracked,bled and exuded pus. I made a valiant and revoltingly painful job of sticking the skin back onto my hands with super glue.i don't need to tell you how painful that was...what with the recent bone transplant from a cow, thank you very much, the pain in my eyes and now positively exquisitely painful hands, i laughed as couldn't work out which piece of my anatomy i'd rather cut off ...so no more playing Gertrude(new base guitar or Twizzle,my 12 string) so had to resort to the drum kit..he doesn't have a name yet as i don't feel we know each other sufficiently well yet to be on first name terms)
significant members of my family..the only ones who don't give any back chat.

"So what" you may be thinking,"burnt hands won't kill you"....well your'e quite wrong as i was having a tango lesson later on and decided to deflect the pain by practicing pirouettes. Sadly, I got completely carried away with myself and went crashing into quite a valuable chair which broke...serves it right because i am quite sure i now have a cracked rib to add to my bodily dysfunctions...incidentally, i don't think i have mentioned that the fabulously handsome Francis Cardoso of tv fame is teaching me..he says he has never met anyone who picks the thing up so quickly without previous dance experience....I keep telling him it's because i do mixed martial arts but he doesn't seem to get the connection...perhaps his amazing (if rather effeminate looks are not matched by equal neuronal activity)..see picture..

ooooh the pain of that lesson was excruciating and am now wearing a corset to protect my ribs which stick out all over the place...goodness, it's now 4 am ..time for a fag break....and possibly a glass of something with bubbles..
You see ,the nightmare is ,that in 5 hours time,a stack load of photographers, make up artists ,stylists and models will be arriving for a shoot and Francis and I are expected to pose in all sorts of extraordinary positions,more taxing than the Kama Sutra (not that I go in for THAT sort of stuff)..The pain will be quite ghastly as my ribs stick out all over the place..but i suppose the show must go on ..the makeup artist will have to be a magician to transform me from what i look like now into something not resembling a gargoyle

I suppose now you might be feeling rather sympathetic towards my two sons who are convinced i am seriously insane....well i can tell you ,as i have told them , i don't think either of them are quite the full ticket either. Am now beginning to bore myself, will try curling up on rug in front of fire...probably safer than doing pirouettes
i suppose this is what's called "blues in the night"
Toodle pip for now, Morag.

Thursday, 11 December 2014


Well good morning to all suffering pre Christmas chaos.!

Presents wrapped and then unwrapped as I forget to label them and fear I might give some fancy lingerie to a Godson....paper every where ...and where are the scissors when you need them? not to mention sellotape that's so stuck down you can't find the end...Oh I know there are loads of women who have the whole caboodle under control...but I am not one of them.
Tomorrow is my husband's big firm thrash..always glamorous..I'm the only "other half"(what a demeaning expression) who is allowed to come as husband is senior partner and I am supposed to look "the part" whatever the fuck that is, but you get the drift..
..Two months ago , I bought a fabulous 1920's vintage frock,  heavy with encrusted beads..it looked great......Tried it on last night in front of the mirror, and plonk! it just fell right off.  I was left naked with a pile of silver beads around my ankles...and oh God what I saw in the mirror was disgusting....ribs pushing through my skin and thick blue veins crawling like snakes up my abdomen not to mention folds of skin in strange places.  Plucked up courage and stood on the scales...hell, dropped another 4 pounds.....doesn't sound much to a normal sized person,indeed many women would be thrilled....but for me, every pound counts....get below six and a half stone at my height and your'e into organ failure territory...Please, please don't use the old cliche,"well just eat more" or in the case of people who over eat "well just eat less"..don't you think one would if one could?
12 hrs later,,,,well I was in great danger of getting all preachy about the psychology of the whole eating thing..ie ,,,you feel low, so you do/take/drink/act in a way that makes one feel high...but not for long. Then comes guilt,remorse..you feel low again..you feel compelled to do what ever it is that makes you feel high again...that's the gist, won't bore you with the details....just go to "rehab" for 3 months as I did in another life,..you'll get the idea..so no more serious stuff..have just heard the girls come in from a night club......they say they're both blotto(certainly they both have the staggers) and in love....How truly ghastly it would be to be a teenager again.
I went Christmas shopping today,bought loads of stuff and then a present for myself...a drum kit...fabulous fun and cathartic..see blow video(if i can work it ) I'll toddle off for now..Morag.

Thursday, 4 December 2014


Well, good morning from Morag to my two "followers"!..ie Sherry and someone who calls themselves "anonymous" ...why don't you introduce yourself?!......
..I bet you didn't expect me to be hitting the keyboard so soon, but husband leaves for work at 5am and after we've had a super-charged-up-your-bum-rocket of a large expresso...( made by a very alarming looking and noisy machine recently given to me by a friend ) I find myself wide awake and a trifle apprehensive of the day to come...Got a call from the surgeon last night..yes, I said last night..fancy that, some of the medical profession here in the UK still work out of hours  (but I do see him privately i.e. his palm is "crossed with silver")..he wants to see me today to have another poke around with my facial bones. 
 Husband very caring, wishes me luck,kisses me good bye and says he loves me. "remember to take your mobile so I can call you to see if your'e ok"
This of course ,I imagine, is quite a normal exchange between husband and wife ..but see "post".. "I receive a horrible shock" and you will see why under the circumstances, I am still a little surprised. In fact, I (and all my friends who have seen him since my return from wandering around the greek islands after he told me to "push off") am quite staggered at his personality change. He chats to me, brings me cups of tea and is always asking if there is anything he can do for me...yes,yes, the cynics say he's just acting and will chuck me out again when he's more financially organised.....but my husband may be many things ,but he can no more act than dance (poor dear was born with 6 left feet!)  So, I can only conclude that contrary to the wisdom of the psychobabble merchants, aka psychiatrists, that it is possible to have a personality change when slightly older than one might wish to be ...what ever the motive.
Anyway, It must have been all that talk of tango last night that got me thinking of mum. 
 "If I hadn't escaped being a nun and become a doctor, I would have liked to have been a "show girl," specialising in tango!" she used to frequently pronounce. (Probably the result of having been born in Argentina) I never saw her dance as dad didn't care for that sort of thing (another one with 6 left feet)..except on one astonishing occasion.....

Mum and I were staying at The Winter Palace in Luxor, Egypt. We shared a lovely room and soon fell into a routine in the evening of her using the bathroom first, prior to dressing for dinner, after which it would be my turn. Dressed herself, she would then go down to the bar for her "first" martini, after which I would join her for some regrettable local wine.
As I descended the rather grand staircase, I could hear the bar band playing tango, much laughter and giggling...my mother's giggling. "Well that's more than one martini" I thought.
Blimey!  Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs into the very grand marble foyer, a couple shot by, turning, twisting and doing that tango walk which involves much head swivelling....yes,I'm sure you've guessed, it was mum.....mum with a young English man and a whole  gaggle of them lining up to be next in turn to dance with this lady of (say it ever so quietly) 81 yrs old!  
"Hello darling" she managed to say mid pirouette....she didn't smoke like me so no shortness of breath for her.
"I must introduce you to these nice young men,lets have another drink"
I followed her followers  back to the bar.
"Now what did you say you all did? football or something?...well this is my daughter and no she doesn't know how to tango"
Some of their faces looked vaguely familiar.
"Actually ma'am, we're the English rugby club"
"Well I should have known that , it accounts for your charming manners"  she continued while giving the bar man a discrete nod for another round of drinks for all...no wonder she had all their attention! 
 "My late husband always used to say that football was a gentleman's game played by thugs where as rugby is a thugs game played by gentlemen"..hoots of laughter as if it was the first time that cliche had been heard, but I had to hand it to her ,she had charmed the lot of them, INCLUDING the staff......and THAT lead to what was nearly an international incident with police and the consulate being involved....that really is another story...enough to say I nearly had a 41 yr old Egyptian stepfather who already had 3 wives and a pack of kids.
Mum died about 10 years ago.
I was in the middle of a busy clinic. I went into the nurses station to pick up the next set of notes. Unusually there was none of the usual gossip and giggling. 
"Doctor" said sister "Your mother isn't feeling well and is lying down"
"Oh well, she's probably sleeping off a large martini"
"No doctor, I don't think that's the problem, you must go home right now"
"But who will finish the clinic?"
"That doesn't matter, just get home as quickly as you can"
The unusual silence and sister's unusual manner began to make me feel a bit sick.
I drove to mum's home like the clappers, jumping lights,driving in the bus lane,overtaking in the inside lane...
I arrived home, mum's driver looking serious,mum apparently asleep on the sofa.
"I was just about to drive her to a restaurant to meet a friend when she said she felt dizzy and wanted a little lie down. she asked me to make her a cup of tea ,by the time i came back from the kitchen she was like this"
I can't really recall the further details. P.M  revealed a massive heart attack..no previous cardiac history known....mind you she never went near doctors "never trust them." she would say. Funny that. Like her, I too am a doctor and don't trust many of them further than I could spit.  
I didn't cry for over one year and just used to joke,  "At least she went out with a bang while dressed in her finery, off to see one of her admirers..great way to go!"
Now and for years, I think of her every day..all the wisdom she taught me , how funny she was and sadly, how I feel I was never really around her as much as I knew she wanted me to be...yes we would holiday together and I saw her every week but in spite of all her friends, I knew she was lonely for family...I tell myself I could not have done anymore.
.After my second marriage, we would pick her up to join us for every sunday lunch...but how did she feel alone in bed at night? ...she had a ghastly house keeper who lived in and refused to allow mum to keep the little terrier puppy I bought her...why didn't I fight the housekeeper?  and so I cry and grieve even 'tho it all happened years ago.

Oh-Oh..urgent message from surgeon reminding me to get to him ..better have a fag and find hat and shades incase he does anything to merit a disguise!  Toodle Loo for now, Morag

Wednesday, 3 December 2014



1st lesson with frances…hope it won't be the last!!!ption
We all had a fabulous,juvenile sleepover "jam". Brilliant pianist Duncan, with all the usual friends plus 4 or 5 newcomers who altered the dynamic for the best, as new ideas were thrown in..Loads of music/noise till dawn.
.I could SCREAM, as trying to be fancy in videoing the thing ,I have erased ALL photos and films from lap top concerning the jam apart from a couple of "songs" with people prancing around  ….. including those taken of me having my first tango lesson with the fabulous Francis Cordosa. All those photos taken in Corsica of what I hope will soon be our new 2nd home gone... and no, no back up….
.Felt great for the next couple of days practising tango...20 people staying over..bodies everywhere...AND thrill of thrills, our usually shy drummer wanted to take to singing, therefore, leaving drums available..well, not for long! I was on them in a nano second for my first attempt …  fabulous fun......actually, without wanting to digress too much, that's not strictly true, as there was that embarrassment in Barbados a couple of years ago, when after a family day on the "Jolly Roger" on some booze filled contraption that takes you out to sea to look at dolphins , turtles ,whales etc, we arrived back at the hotel as the band was setting up for the evening.  Apparently, I thought the audience would appreciate a drum solo...(will never drink rum punch again.)..you see, I was not aware that I was on the drums until about 8pm when I found myself on stage with the rest of the band.."What the heck am I doing here?" I thought. More to the point , how do I get out of this situation elegantly? (am sure I have mentioned this in an earlier post)...anyway, I slithered off ..

The concept of "Locked in syndrome" has always frightened me as I'm sure it has everyone who has contemplated it.
Two days ago, I slept, but REALLY SLEPT ..since for the years since this" auto immune" shit started trying to bounce me off this mortal coil, either by involuntary starvation or repeated abscesses everywhere, I have not slept more than 1 to 2 hrs at a time …you get used to it.
However, possibly the excitement of the Jam with all the dancing and drumming (lets not mention that again) I found myself apparently asleep but totally mentally alert…I was longing for water but could not move.  I really could not move one muscle.My eyes, bandaged with some sort of cack ointment in them to help the ulceration, felt as if acid drops had been poured into them.
Sometime the following evening , I heard nanny come into the room ..I tried to make some sound, but my lips were sealed together as if with super glue, I was unable to move a muscle ,I just lay on the bed apparently in deep sleep….this continued until late the following afternoon when nanny came in and shook me .
"I didn't want to wake you when you were sleeping yesterday, you looked so peaceful, but come on , getting late, get up and pretty yourself as your husband will be back from Rome soon".
Nanny is bigger than me ,she pulled me out of bed and plonked me in a bath ..my god, I must have drunk half the bath water and then felt better enough to put on what nanny calls my "elegant"pyjamas"
Those 72 hours of being awake, in pain and so thirsty but quite unable to communicate or move, were terrifying…what must it feel like for someone in that condition permanently…Literally God help them.
sorry to end on a gloomy note, but it's worth thinking about…..as ever Morag,