Thursday, 3 May 2007
My Mum the Westerwitch
To explain the blog below - this was posted by my daughter – Wildchild - on the other side - the night before the short list was announced. I am so very proud of what she wrote - red face at hopeless self indulgence - and I have posted this here for those of you that didn't get the chance to read it and would like to.
My daughter has never been one to express her emotions - but blogging allowed her to do this . . . .and hopefully Purplecoo will allow many others to also express how they feel and to share the ups and downs of their lives with all of us so that we can laugh and cry and support each other . . .
My Mum the Westerwitch
Your probably wondering what the westerwitch is! Well the first thing to say is that she claims to have lost her marbles along time ago but in all honesty she never really had any. She’s an awful lot to take in so beware. The westerwitch is commonly found running around the highlands enjoying the Scottish weather. She is social although not necessarily socially acceptable, and can be found hanging around with lixtroll chasing girdly birds. It is easy to confuse westerwitch and the lixtroll as they are similar - pixie like in behaviour - but don’t be fooled. If you really, really, really must find her, you need to have a few tricks up yer sleeve. For example, a trail of wine, chocolate, yare dragons and a few U2 songs should work nicely. Should this fail then count yourself lucky. She is clever although her common sense is questionable. For example, telling the westerwitch that the word ‘gullible’ has recently been taken out of the dictionary and she will believe you every time. The parental skills of the westerwitch are a little odd! Although she is capable of parenthood, the resulting offspring may lack sanity. I’ve lived with the westerwitch my whole life, along with dogs, cats, parrots, ferrets, rats, hamster, snakes, chinchillas and of course…gold fish; and I’m now studying zoology as a result. She has a broomstick in the cupboard, a cauldron on the stove and an unmistakable cackle. You see, the westerwitch is my mother. She has ‘raised’ me and ‘loved’ me and ‘nurtured’ me into the person that I am. She’s done an ok job I guess since our mother-daughter relationship has been mostly practical jokes and the insults. Since I have been more than a foetus on this earth, we have been annoying each other and its not about to stop. But among the ‘I CANT WAIT TO LEAVE HOME’ and the ‘Great, I’ll help you pack’ we’ve managed to come out of it with a pretty healthy relationship. And to be honest, I’ll be chuffed if when I turn fifty something, I’m half the person she is (playing with artificial remote control fart machines). She’ll read this and get teary, but I shall deny it when she confronts me despite the evidence. So as I sit here stressing about the reproductive patterns of the cephalopod mollusc (it’s actually quite interesting), I wonder what its like to be normal. But then of course…who wants to be normal, right? I guess what I’m trying to say is, the westerwitch ain’t a half bad mutha!