Mid-life Crisis

So here we are at the end of January. It has been a difficult month for me, and my neighbours sewage is still gurgling and grumbling it’s way into my bath. I’ve called it Gertrude.

Will be seeking advice from lawyers and MPs this week.

A friend of mine was discussing the possibility of him having a midlife crisis. To do something exciting and life changing now. I think I am having the opposite to that, I had my mid-life crisis in my twenties and became Miss Roberts. Now I find myself attracted to the idea of a steady job, owning my own house in the country with some cats, a dog, some ducks, a goat. There would be a wood at the end of the garden so I could sit and daydream or forage for materials to make paints. The problem would be that I’m not allowed to drive (epilepsy) and I like being near my friends, so I will have to take them with me. A small commune in the country…

My first mid-life crisis was when I got diagnosed with this old brain desease of mine. They said the creature was very big and buried very deep in my brain. They said I would have to have 6 or 7 operations followed by laser treatment to zap it which would all take years and years, but if I didn’t have it I would be dead in 10 years. After a lot of indecision i decided not to have the treatment, I enjoyed my life and didn’t want to spend it in hospital on what was only a 50% chance of being cured.

So, I thought to myself, if I’ve only got a little while to live I’d better do something exciting with it. Now I’d been a quiet child, and a sulky teenager, I barely spoke, but I loved the stage. The idea of getting up on the stage and performing thrilled me. I said to myself “well Roberts if you are going to die in a bit you’d better get yourself a wig and a fancy dress and get yourself up on that stage”. It was an excuse to misbehave.

So Miss Roberts arrived, and slowly the world around her became a somewhat less terrifying place, people (some of them) became worth talking to, and the monster, although it has given me occasions to think “right this is it, it’s going to kill me now” hasn’t yet, and ten years has come and gone.

Maybe I’ll marry an accountant or lawyer, that would be a good turn around for me.

Below is a picture of me as a child. A friend on the phone last night was telling me how he was a happy sweet child with lots of friends. I was the opposite to this, I was the scary child who never smiled and wore a black coat with hood up that I never ever took down.

Oh, and just thought I’d mention I’m making short video logs every evening (well most) that I’m putting on YouTube. The are on my channel, though I’m not sure what that’s called or how you get to it. If you find out let me know.

Dressed to stalk


So far this month things have been grim. Firstly my friend Sheridan died at the start of January. A lovely man who devoted his life to helping others. I met him in the late nineties when I offered to volunteer at a community art project he had got started in Islington. We got on well and he helped me out at a time when I was very confused and unwell. He moved to Manchester and would visit London now and then when we’d go out and get hideously drunk together, put the world to rights and plan new projects together. It’s been about five years since we last met up though, when we planned for Rude Mechanicals to hold a night in the venue he ran in Manchester. Wish I’d got the band organised and gone and done that!

I’m still trying to find out what happened to him.

A lot of my friends have died over the last year, both young and old. I miss them, they are holes in the netting of my mind.

As you may have seen on my Facebook page, the sewage is still coming up into my bath and sink. It is like a large swamp monster is living under my bathroom, it gurgles and growls and vomits up sewage into my bath. Two months this has been happening and getting worse. Seven plumbers with fancy laser jet equipment have failed to stop it. It’s a health hazard, the council call it an emergency, then blame it on different department. Help!

My Facebook friends have been very helpful with suggestions of what to do, and I’m slowly progressing through them. Will be attempting the builders foam next.

Below is a picture of a swamp monster possibly living under my bathroom.

Happy New year! And this year’s resolutions…

I looked up my resolutions for last year and realise I’ve broken all of them apart from the first one and the last one. I’m very happy I succeeded with two, though admittedly my organisation abilities have only improved enough for an ant to recognise

This year:

1. Get even more organised, so much so a creature the size of an elephant might notice

2. Make lots of money from my art work (thus expanding on last year’s successful 6th resolution)

3. Get fit – yoga, gym, swimming – for god sake woman just some form of exercise!

4. Finish the tree book Or at least read through it – the other year I wrote and illustrated a book about my explorations of trees – the first draft is written, I now need to build up enough stamina to read it through without cringing

5. Go to bed and get up earlier

6. Eat less sweet things (these last two are boring resolutions I will almost certainly break)

7. Drink less. (Spent New Year’s Day being hideously ill, someone remind me my tablets don’t mix too well with alcohol)

8. Apply for grants for the Library to get a permanent residence?? (Again, really?)

A very happy new year to everyone who reads this! Below is a lucky dancing gnome/elf seeing in the year.

My drawing of a gnome-like-creature dancing in the new year