I made a decision a couple of days ago to be happy. I was feeling like every day was a bit of a chore, so I changed my diet, moved things about and decided to stop inputting my brain with rubbish.
And
The last two days writing Valoura have been much easier.
Although I am getting a bit bogged down in detail, I am sure I will cut a bit, edit a lot and make peace with the rest, especially after NaNoWriMo.
And...Here is another excerpt to whet your appetite. Please remember that this is very rough first draft stuff, but all constructive comments are greatly appreciated! Also, again, everything on this blog is copyrighted. Ta.
I decide to ride home. I feel like I need to find out what
everyone is doing and maybe help in some way. Then I will formulate a plan for
how I will conduct my ‘sting operation’ on Carter and Emmerllee. A sting
operation is when your undertake surveillance (which means to watch people) and
then get some evidence on the perps (perpetrators). Then when you have enough
evidence, ya bust ‘em!
It is getting dark and a bit chilly now, even though it is spring
the nights are still a bit frosty. I am riding into my driveway and our house
is all lit up like a Christmas tree. This is very unusual because my mum is a
greenie and is always telling us to switch things off to save the planet.
I can hear some kind of ruckus inside. It is Cee Cee making a fuss
about Bas and Billy making a mess on the table. I can’t help but giggle.
When Gil and I step inside the heating is turned up to eleven and
the TV is turned up to one hundred and Celia is turned up to a million and Aunt
Bossy is sitting in the corner with shorts and a t-shirt on and her fingers in
her ears. She is singing a very daggy ABBA song very loudly so as to block out
the kerfuffle in the dining room around her.
Bas is spraying pink and yellow glitter EVERYWHERE, trying to get
as much as possible in Billy’s hair. Billy is freaking out because his parents
are neat freaks and if he even gets one smidge of glitter on the expensive
Persian rug he is dead (not literally of course. Literally means you take what
I am saying as what will actually happen when really, Billy is just
exaggerating. I hope!).
‘Where is mum?’ I say as I think only she could stop this
nonsense.
‘Give me the bloody glue Bastian and if you don’t stop attacking
Billy he can go home’.
‘No!’ Shouts Billy. I get
the feeling he would rather have glue stick rubbed all over his forehead than
go home.
‘HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME’.
Aunt Bossy glares at me.
‘Where have you been Valoura?’
I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to know anything I do
because she will just pick it apart and tell me how dumb I am.
I don’t know why Aunt Stacey dislikes me so much. She and Celia
talk a lot about holidays on tropical islands and technological advancements
her company makes and mostly Aunt Bossy just ignores Bastian. Me however, she
likes to goad, taunt and undermine. This makes me want to not tell her anything
and also make me want to prank her as much as I can, which I do do (lol – doo
doo, get it?!)
I put cling wrap on her toilet so her wee bounces all over her
Chanel suits. I put frog spawn in her coffee mug which she hates because she is
a caffeine addict and often says she would murder the queen for just one drop.
Bas and I often hide Gilbert poo in her $300 shoes or under the floor mats in
her Mercedes. Of course I always get caught and mum has had many talks with us
both about our ‘attitudes’ and ‘communicating in a healthy, kind way’. Usually Aunt
Bossy and I murmur half-hearted apologies at each other and shoot dirty looks
when mum turns away.
She is now looking at me with a piercing stare. Her over-plucked
eyebrow is raised into a high triangle and her pointy nose is wrinkled like she
has just had a Gilbert poo attack.
‘Your mother is with Mrs Vanmanthy. Mrs Vanmanthy is unwell from
the excitement of the day and needs some help around her house. If you ask me,
(which I never ever would) I think your mother is too soft and allows people
too much of her attention. I am certain she will be home soon. IN THE MEAN TIME
(loud!), I want all this packed up and we will make some dinner. (*Sigh* Aunt
Bossy makes horrible raw food which I HATE.) Then we will all go to our own
rooms and be quiet until bedtime. Got it?’
She looks at us like if we say anything other than ‘got it’ will
be locked in the cellar for the remainder of our natural lives.
‘Got it’ we all sing.
After a disgusting meal of raw zucchini pasta topped with tomatoes
and raw onion (stinky fart breath!) Celia and I are charged with clean up. Bas
and Billy are told to put all bikes and scooters in the garage – as far away
from Aunt Cranky Pants’ car as possible – ‘If even ONE scratch….’ The Evil
Witch Queen is enjoying a piece of dark chocolate torte on the patio. You get
there through the white French doors from the kitchen. Not that I’d want to be
there right now.
Celia is sullen as usual and is making no attempt to talk to me as
she scrubs a big bowl. I look at her as I am curious as to what she is
pondering. I often try to guess what people are thinking as I really want to
know what makes people tick. My friend Hattie thinks that I am a little to much
a busy body and should ‘let people be alone with themselves’. She always talks
in an old fashioned way.
Celia huffs and turns to me
with a glower. ‘What?’
‘Nothing, just wondering what you are thinking’.
‘None of your business’.
‘OK, OK’.
‘Listen Valoura, I have something on my mind and I am not
interested in sharing it with you’. A mug slips out of Celia’s soapy hand and
hits the sink. The handle comes off and we hear a shout from the patio,
‘That better not be my Snode’.
Snode is the brand of Aunt Bossys’ stupid china mugs that cost
like $40 each! I wish it was.
‘No it was the one with the cat eyes on it’ I shout back, a bit
louder than was necessary. I loved that cup *sob*.
‘Oh, good’, Stacey murmurs into the night air.
I turn to get the next plate or cup from Celia and I see that she
is looking down, a tear splashes on her hand which has a short deep line of
crimson on it. She smooshes them together, sniffs loudly and carries on
scrubbing.
‘What’s up Cee Cee?’
‘Nothing Loo, just forget it.’
