Old and lonely

I was shocked to read on smh.com.au at 8.28pm last night that “erratic swings give Labor hope.”

I was certain there was no hope for Australia.

Especially after filling out that ridiculous senate paper at the polling booth. It was truly disturbing.

Why the hell do they make you tick six boxes when the choices are beyond awful?

I had to put a number beside some total shockers.

Who wants to freaking vote for the Sex Party or the Cycling Party or the Shooters Party?

I almost fell for the Sustainable Australia Party, thinking they were about renewable energy, but nooooo their agenda is lowering immigration.

And don’t get me started on those sneaky anti-vaxxers masquerading as the “Health Party” … It terrifies me how many people might have fallen for that one.

Actually, the whole thing terrifies me. If I struggled to tick 6 boxes what crazy mistakes are the rest of the country making along with me?

My day started far more peacefully, walking with a couple of local friends to the serene waterfront. Though there was nothing serene about our animated chitter chat. Wow can we talk.

I got home to an email from the school band committee lamenting how many cakes hadn’t been baked for the election stall at the high school.

I’d already dropped off my dirty sour worm cupcakes at 7.45am.

So I put the youngest to work baking an emergency batch before we headed up for our two-hour shift.

This is what she came up with …

The youngest absolutely loved being on cake stall duty, though I’m wondering what she made of all the lonely, loopy old people who came up to chat … And chat … And chat …

They broke my heart a little with their eagerness for human interaction, so I smiled and nodded during their tales of Telstra woe, siblings being in hospital after a “fall”, our cupcakes being too expensive and their desire to wipe out every politician with a machine gun …

Actually, I stopped smiling and nodding at that point. That old lady was SCARY.

Being old and lonely and bonkers is also pretty scary.

Please let that not be my future …

At one point during my two-hour stint on the cake stall I texted DD, admonishing that he should stop wasting his money on sky writing after this appeared in the sky …

Joke.

It was actually for someone called Vidi. I wonder if she said yes. I’ve seen a few sky written proposals lately. Not sure how I’d actually feel about receiving one, other than wondering if the astronomical cost might have been better spent on our honeymoon. Last of the true romantics, me.

When my shift was over I felt very guilty to be deserting the troops. But then, guilt is middle name. I kept telling myself only doing two hours was better than doing no hours, which is what most of the band parents chose to do.

I went home, fed the kids some lunch, then raced to the supermarket for supplies so I could feed them again a few hours later. I just didn’t have any creativity left in me, so I went for old faithful baked fish and chips.

But before I started that chopping and oven popping I took the dogs for a twilight walk. The light was gorgeous.

Not quite as divine as the previous night, but still lovely.

And that was my Saturday. Tell me about yours.