The roofer has given me a quote, it's got to be done, I realised this morning it took about one hour for the pigeons to wake up from under the tiles and make their way to the local breakfast bar. I can take a conservative guess there's probably 20 of them up there. Mr Travolta Pigeon must have some pretty pungent pheromones at work. My only worry is if the roof repair is done a couple get trapped under the tiles and then become mummified. I'll have to check out the British Museum, I wonder if they have any mummified pigeons?
It seems the list of expenses goes on. One thing after the other. Roof, porch roof, guttering, central heating, porch wall pointing. Double Glazing. I had a short MSN with Sparkling Eyes she's worried about her mortgage with Northern Rock. The brief conversation descended into a swopping of worries.
When I think about may family's effort put into wishing me a happy birthday I'm a little dissappointed. Little Monster Boy didn't even draw me a card, Long haired boy just sent me a text and he couldn't turn up at the tea Big Mama had made. And Dancing girl didn't actually give me a card or do anything either. My other sister Mrs Talkative and children sent a card. Again no personalised little drawing from Angel girl, and besides the Not So Talkatives boys signing their cards no effort from them. Big Mama slipped 20 squids in her card and gave me a box of chocolates which were too sweet for my liking. So I'm now thinking about how much I give to my own family and whether they are worth it? I could try and put them on eBay, the problem would be I'd have to pay someone to take them off my hands.
Silly Sophia has started going to the pub again and she takes little monster boy with her. He stays up till late at night and is always complaining about not getting sleep. At 6 years the poor little might is not getting the caring he should have. Sometimes I can't think it's unfortunate some people are allowed or given the chance to have children, especially when they are not emotionally mature enough to handle them. To be responsible for their own life let alone a child. I can see myself stepping into the world of Eugenics. A place where Hitler once went, except it's not an supreme race of nazis I'd like, just a race of parents who cared for their children and understood those needs. Perhaps the problem with a free world, is it is a free world. Free to make our own mistakes, and continue to make them if we want. We all do the best we can,, of course given the chances of our own up bringing and nurturing environment. Given also the chances of a silver spoon.
The answer I expect is to say "none of it is to do with me." It's not my responsibility to bring up support or help my sisters children. Further "never have any expectations" for expectations of reciprocal support or caring don't happen. I suppose if i really did have my own family, my own children, then I could indoctrinate them into my world and my wife's world. Make them as degenerate or respectful as I felt the need. Children are such vulnerable creatures unlike the pigeons in my roof. Children need some kind of stability. I hope, I provide a small bit of stability. Being around, being here, but I don't know. I have no idea if anything I do has any effect. Only in 10, 20 or 30 years time will it show.
On my wall I have an old picture Sparkling Eyes sent me. It's of a bright yellow sun smiling out. Although it probably took only ten minutes to do and cost absolutely nothing, it is one of my most precious possessions. It's personal, it shows an effort. It's like receiving and writing a letter on paper. It takes time, effort and love to do. One thing I do know, if one of those 6 little sprites I call my nephews or nieces had done such a thing I'd be in tears. Money really don't mean a thing against love, effort enthusiasm and a glowing bright sun of happiness.
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