Religion

Published April 6, 2018 by helentastic67

Religion

It seems to come up a lot in blogging doesn’t it? People talking about God, Jesus and ‘Whatnot’ and this will put me into my Religion/Muslim/Terrors topic, but we shall see. As previously stated, I went to a Catholic School for nine whole years.

Talking about God

However, I lost my faith in this ‘Holy Go-Thing’ early in life. In brief, I lost my sister when I was nine years-old. She had been born on my 8^th birthday and died fifteen months and a week later from cancer. She was sick for a month, then just gone.

Questioning God

Is there a God?

Does God do this?

Why would God do this?

God takes innocent little babies?

But while I question this and don’t believe in this ‘Concept of God’ the all mighty, that’s OK. I believe more in this Higher Being, The Universe, Karma, Buddha, whatever that is.

Higher power

I believe in doing the right thing, largely based on the 10 commandments, sure. Because it all makes sense, it’s common sense, right!

10 Commandments

But I also believe in reincarnation, because really, we’re born, we live, we die. That also can’t be it surely? Because I think some people really don’t get it right the first time and I like to imagine, if we suffer in this life, maybe we get better looked after in the next. Then again it scares me to ask what horrible thing or atrocity I’ve committed in a past life to be dealing with this ‘Shit’?

Reincarnation

Hot Flushes

Published April 2, 2018 by helentastic67

Hot Flushes

Went shopping today with one of my regular carers of the last four years and our adventures are always a highlight of my week. Despite when you read this, it’s mid-January now and Summer.

My carer and I walked out of the shopping complex and because it’s important I did an instant commentary of the weather. First an assessing frown and “OH?” It’s a little humid, but a cool breeze and a little light rain. To which ’T’ (let’s go with that) responded with something about her hot flushes and an advisement, that you should be able to flip a switch and opt out of Menopause.

Menopause

And the banter had just begun.

“Well, I think your well past that option.”

T, still in fantasy land, so I tried again.

“OK, what if you sacrificed one of your children?”

She has three sons and one of course is the problem child. All adults now, but she loves them all the same.

My Three Sons

She made a little sound like her decision would be easy and I told her she could not choose. I suggested, if she didn’t paint some of her husband’s blood above the front door, she would lose her first born. She did not like that suggestion and it wasn’t the part about blood-letting her husband.

Blood Letting

She enquired where this has happened and when? Accompanied with the query “Does that really happen?”

“What?”

I looked at her and told her where I had taken some of my inspiration and imagination from and declared nine years of Catholic School, such influence. I emphasised the “nine years” and pointed my thumb to my chest and I thought Catholic School has been a waste of my time.

Catholic School 1

Good Times

Published March 30, 2018 by helentastic67

Good times

Good Times

It was a hot day last Friday and I’d gone out with Ms Tina to do my weekly shop. On the way a short distance, I received a text telling me I had not escaped my third rent increase. Hence my previous post where I needed to vent about housing and all that, that entails.

Hot day

I suggested we sit on the bench just inside the entrance to take a moment to cool down. We found ourselves sitting in front of a Travel Agents, Flight Centre, something or other.

Travel Agency

Now I don’t get to holiday or travel and apart from two nights in Tasmania about six years ago, when my boyfriend was still faking that we were still actually together. I’ve not been in an airplane ‘overseas’ since 1994. So I looked up and discussed with Ms Tina. “Wow look at that!”

No Holiday

Next month I can pay for rent or I can go to ‘somewhere else’ for eleven days.

Ms Tina suggested eleven days away and some drinks. Now, you know I don’t really drink, but I think I could learn.

Should have holiday

I imagine life would be a little easier to deal with if I drank. Pity I don’t like the taste. Or the ones I like I can’t afford.

Holiday end

Grumpy

Published March 26, 2018 by helentastic67

Grumpy

I need to have a grumpy rant!

So, if you can’t cope, skip this post now, but if you can hang in there, it might give you some understanding of why I swear in my posts so much.

Grumpy rant

That said, you should be prepared for some F*** Bombs. I’m currently house hunting, AGAIN!

F Bomb

I know, I know, I’ve lived here for four years, which in the last twenty-five years is my limit and I’ve only lived in four houses for four years each, so you can imagine the rest of that time I’ve bounced around a bit.

Four years

I‘ve been meaning to write about how I’ve been preparing to say goodbye to my friends. My friends being the five or so carers. I’m about to lose because I’ve now got the NDIS and I’ve got to start using my funding through an Agency and then there’s the painful process of “Training” new girls.

Saying Goodbye

I’ve had to implement “Grumpy Helen” to do this, I am hating the “System” I live in where, if you fit some particular criteria, you get funding and assistance thrown at you.

Let me give you an example:

Are you Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander?
Are you a refugee?

Hear me when I say, I appreciate why refugees need assistance, however, WHAT ABOUT ME?

What about me

I mean and they advertise assistance for these groups and so on. I have been told by people (carers) that they have other clients who live in private rental and when I ask how, they can’t tell me.

Expensive housing

I rang a few places a few years ago that were recommended to me and no one could assist me. Today I sat with my CM (Case Manager) Dave and he told me of a “thing” for want of a better word, it is an organisation and acts similarly to a Real Estate agent and they have properties cheaper than the private rental market.

Housing

Ok, all the properties are miles from me or anywhere I need to live, however maybe I can have my property added to this program? Who funds this scheme? DHS

This is another Government Agency – called already. Department of Human Services, who manage Public Housing.

Public Housing

So how come, if they find all these other agencies to deliver programs and dole out assistance – how come no one could would tell me about this scheme?

I noticed with some regret, I am yet to swear in this post, that I promised or suggested it was likely I would swear. So, allow me to remedy that.

Swearing

FUCK! FUCK! FUCKETY! FUCK!

Fuck

Sigh, that feels better.

And I’m back.

I’ve found something fun to do in my neighbourhood, that is an evening thing. In my neighbourhood and I can’t find anyone to go with me. It would seem everybody else gets funded to do ‘fun-things’. I can’t and I can’t even find a friend to go with me, am I going to have to pay a carer to go?

Fun things

Oh that “event” is Midge nMe from Ultravox. For those who need Google and Wiki, I’ll help by sending you back to the 80’s and mentioning Synth-Pop and if your parents don’t cope with your music taste, they would probably cope with Ultravox.

Ultravox

OK, feel like I’ve maybe mentioned this before, but just in case, caught up with a Numpty-friend late last year. That translates to another friend with an ABI.

I mentioned another Numpty-friend had gotten into Public Housing in my old suburb. This is when I get livid to the agency of Public Housing in that neighbourhood. I outright call them liars, as I had been opposite some Public Housing and I knew there was new Public Housing this other person had been accepted to. The friend I was with told me the lucky person had been bragging a few years ago that they’d bought a house. So how did they qualify for Public Housing?

Numpty

OK, I miss “cable internet”, I don’t know if I need to say anything else on this to pick. The house I rented before here, I was offered Cable Internet as it was available in that area. Is that a stupid question? So, I got it.

Cable internet

I lived there for fourteen months, beautiful house. Needed a housemate who could pay half the rent and I held in there as long as I could and that’s why I moved here. No housemate required. I’m sure you feel my pain.

Feel my pain

After going out to my kitchen to cook dinner at about 10pm, I noticed a huge light in the sky. OMG it’s a full moon.

That Mother Nature has a lot to answer for.

Mother Nature

Chocolate

Published March 23, 2018 by helentastic67

Chocolate 1

Chocolate

Again, another post that is telling on how long ago I wrote this. For me, this is possibly the best thing that happens at Christmas. About fifteen years ago, I went to the Melbourne Flower and Garden Show. It’s been running annually since 1995 and I distinctly recall the first time I went because of a purchase I made that time. I’ve maybe only been once since because all the soil I own is in pots and I’m always feeling too poor to go. Paying an admission fee is one thing, but if you don’t have some spending money it’s just easier not to go.

Flower-Show

So, a long time ago I went with a college friend, let’s call her Jane (it’s been a while since we used Jane, right?). We wandered around outside before venturing inside into the Melbourne Exhibition Building. It’s a beautiful landmark as it’s Heritage listed, it’s in Carlton, close to the city.

Royal Exhibition Building Melbourne

https://museumsvictoria.com.au/reb/ (Royal Exhibition Building)

As we wandered around we heard a voice calling out ‘Hot Chocolate’ over and over again. It was monotonous. We kept wondering around down stairs, before venturing upstairs. We kept hearing this chant, ‘Hot Chocolate’.

Hot Chocolate

Seriously, when we found him, he stood at an exhibition stand with tall posters made of plastic fabric. We asked him what he was going on about. “Hot Chocolate”.

Their was a spectacular lily with a rich velvety colour and variegated leaves. The product came in a white plastic tub in the shape of a coffee mug. The packaging came with a bag of soil and another bag with a bulb in it. They were $50.00. We both walked away from that stand carrying one each. And he was still alive.

Growing Calla Lily

We were promised we would have flowers the first year. We should have killed him because that didn’t happen. After, I think two years I re-potted it into a bigger pot and some years later, I re-potted it again into an even larger pot.

Repotting

That $50 really was an investment because I think it took about five years just to get foliage and about ten years to get flowers.

Even now, Christmas 2016 I got three flowers the first year I had flowers the requests started from family and friends alike for a part of the bulb when it multiplied.

family

They stopped asking…

At the start of Summer, the pot, a large plastic pot in the corner of my back yard, that I start to water religiously in Spring, starts to get little spikes in it.

I’ve found Jamima nestled on top of the pot and I’ve had to shoo her off.

The spikes become too tall here, leaves open and stretch upwards and around a week before Christmas comes the best reward.

Tell me if you think it was worth it?

Hot Chocolate Calla Lily

Rewards

Published March 19, 2018 by helentastic67

Rewards

I think I have worked my way around having carers in my home very well. Here’s an example; I have a rewards system, they can gain points or lose points and they have no idea how to do either.

Carers in the home

I’ve been getting new carers recently to utilise my NDIS funding and I’ve had maybe four different providers in eight years because I’ve moved three times and under HACC they keep you in-house until they work out what your needs etc are, then they outsource you to an agency, if they can’t cover your hours or service requirements. So I’m getting kind of OK (good) at it.

Booking carers

If I get a call from the office to tell me a carer is at my front door and they didn’t ring the doorbell. You lose a point.
If you lie to me, if you continue to lie to me. You lose a point.
You treat me like I have an intellectual disability (ID). Yes, you lose a point.
You treat anyone without respect or humanity. Lose a point and my respect.
You do your job. You get a point.
You do your job well. You get a point.
You do a shitty job well, with a smile on your face. You get a point.
After an acceptable ‘cooling off period’ (undetermined) you can do what’s required without me asking you. Yes, you get a point.
You have spare time and find something that you think requires attention and you just do it. You get a point.

Now, you have the basics let me give you an example.

Apart from the first one because that’s obvious. A new carer arrived and she had her earbuds (headphones) in her ear. She took one out and slipped her phone in her bag. I politely greeted her and she responded to me. I politely stated three different ways (can’t remember now exactly what I said, but it was a challenge) without outright calling her a liar.

Carer with earbuds

She kept insisting it was not on ever, after she first told me she could hear me. I still thought it rather rude, so I just politely told her I could still hear the music. She took her phone out, turned it off. For real this time and took out the earbud.

Liar liar

There is no specific score one gets or loses before I deem it relevant to contact the office and add them to a list call the ‘Blocked’ list.

Blocked

I have a very active ‘Blocked’ list of girls I won’t have back to the point, if I speak to the right person they know my standards and my reasons and I am not required to explain myself.

blocked 1

New Year

Published March 16, 2018 by helentastic67

New Year

I know you can’t tell because it’s probably July or August. Just a guess, in reality and certainly in my world it’s January 4^th, yes.

The crazy life, that is Helen begun. Went to bed early last night, OK, technically 1am, so whatever.

Jamima, lord love her, pestered me all night. Her nose and whiskers on my face, walking all over me not sure where to settle, scratching at my covers, the licks and fang-like bites = Pest.

Sitting on face

Also equals not nearly enough sleep. Woke at 6am and pressed the Mepacs Alarm so someone, somewhere knew I’d made it through the night, barely but I did, still qualifies.

Wake up early

My carer Miss Tina arrived before 10am and I fell into the wall when I got up. Definitely not a good sign.

Washed my hair today, even though it’s not a normal day to do so. It’s going to be hot today. Wet hair will help me stay cooler. Had a light breakfast and by 12pm I went back to bed for a 25-minute power-nap. Jamima came to me straight away. I could practically hear her say. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Wash hair

I confess I growled for her to leave me alone. Slept like the dead, scrambled up, got shoes on, brushed teeth etc and got on my bike.

OK, got on Hell on Wheels and full speed ahead to my parking spot at my last appointment.

Hellonwheels

On the way, encountered a young man (child, whatever) trying to drag his dog off the High Street around the corner. The dog was trying to ‘do’ something. I slowed down enough to tell him “I hope you’re going to pick that up!” Because I could tell he had no intention of doing so.

Dog poop

He muttered something to do with my mouth. I didn’t hear but he’s lucky I was running late for my pick-up.

Had the ‘Go-Slow’ all the way. Where people are just dawdling along, taking their sweet-ass time, chatting on the phones, I had a text beeping and reminding me it was neglected, but I went knowing full well it was Young John. I was late.

I parked at the Acupuncturist, managing not to smash my head into the pole at the front. (Because I don’t see it!) Took my flag inside so it wouldn’t get stolen. Make joke to have fun with the flag in my absence. You heard me.

Need walking stick today, can’t text, too many distractions around. Walk to the designated location and see Young John is waiting for me.

Getting into taxi

Felt like a Princess as I just walked right up to the taxi, opened the door and got in. He was on the phone to one of his taxi driver buddies on speaker.

Feel like a princess

Young John spent the weekend in hospital as he had a nasty infection that required surgery and had started to go septic.

Lift to my favourite café, it’s closed until Mid-January. Damn it! But really, it’s the only time they close, find alternative.

Coffee and huge Rumball – lunch. Rumball sub-standard, sad.

Don’t people know how to make a rumball? They should not be the size of a golf ball, for starters, but onward.

Rum balls

It’s now 2pm, time to hustle to Chiropractors.

“I’m well adjusted!” Yeah, she chants…

Short walk, short tram ride. Some serious texting, another short walk. Get stabbed – eight times.

OK otherwise known as Acupuncture. Made a call (I was in a separate room today) to register my ongoing interest in a Community Housing waitlist. Took four of my own needles out as I needed to pee. Not the first time.

Acupunture

Scooter ride home past the scene of the earlier crime.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I want to be wrong. He did not clean up after his dog.

Stopped down the street to chat to Matt who is building the apartments. His son 21, who has Autism was also there and his carer.

Building site

Brief stop at landlords to chat to their grandkids, “What did Santa bring?” And home around 6pm. Bring in washing and water the back garden.

Now inside…

Arrive home

Communication

Published March 12, 2018 by helentastic67

Communication

I often find how I communicate things somehow misses the mark. My mum, who I love to bits because she is my biggest supporter on Team Helen, often hears half of what I tell her and runs for the finish line, with it and then of course rants at me because she didn’t hear the rest of what I told her.

Half listening

Sometimes I will be writing about her and you will need to read between the lines because the lines because I won’t be able to say so. But not today…

Half listening 1

Today I asked my carer to take the meat off a BBQ chicken, that way I could freeze it and preserve its freshness until I needed it.

That is exactly how I communicated this task. Can you please take the meat off and keep it? No skin, no bones, no fat, Right! God help me. The barrage of questions, sometimes I go stand next to them to watch what they are doing or how they are doing it.

Questions

It may come across as intimidation, but today she was putting the skin on the bench…WFT…

Put the meat in the bowl and everything else in the bag.

Eventually standing over them, elicits the query “What? What have I done wrong?” And then at least it’s easier to tell them a ‘better’ way to do things.

Finding a better way

So, again I think I communicate things very well, people just don’t listen.

“We have two ears and one mouth. We should use them proportionately.”

Wise words from a colleague, once upon a time…

Rules-of-Effective-Communication

Saturday

Published March 9, 2018 by helentastic67

Saturday

I like to imagine I’ve mentioned it but just in case I haven’t or you missed it. I go off the grid on a Saturday.

That means no mobile phone, none. No emails, hell no, no emails and no social media.

Despite the fact I’m ‘retired’, not bragging, I’m unable to do any of the things that used to pay me and I couldn’t manage what most consider ‘work’, so I am retired, but poor.

Yet I’m still busy with the phone calls organising things, the emails and the keeping tabs on other people’s ‘social media’. Damn I will never get through Facebook news feed, which I might look at twice weekly and hate myself for it later.

However, Saturday’s are the days I allow myself to do one of several things, I eat, I sleep and I watch some TV.

And I repeat.

Today, I’ve mixed it up a little. After I watched ‘whatever’ show while eating breakfast, I decided part of my new routine should be to read a comic.

This is generally something that makes me tried anyway and I am five years (you heard) I repeat, five years behind on my comics, so I read a comic.

Everyone celebrate and do a little dance, because I can’t dance.

And now sleep…

Last Friday, I went to the butchers, I don’t do it often admittedly and I normally save time be calling my guy “Jim” (OK, it the owner but still). This time I just decided to go get a ticket, stand and wait to order like everybody else.

Big Mistake…

Apart from the full body slam from behind I received from some bearded hipster dude because, I mistakenly stood near the ticket machine, I didn’t get what I asked for and of course didn’t know until I unpacked it later. The full body slam, I confess to say was the highlight of this experience, since it’s been some years since I’ve had that level of full body contact.

I know, but from a chick who chooses to be celibate, but misses all the ‘smoochie’ stuff.

What? I’m only human…

The celibacy thing, I’m sure I’ll cover that another time, but in short if I’m single, I’m celibate and now I guess that’s done for now…

Anyway, back to the meat. I don’t know if it’s my slight facial droop or that the woman wanted to sell a more expensive product or she was just deaf but, I was sure I said – “Can I please have four snags and a half a kilo of diet mince!” And what do you think I got? I got four snags – check and half a kilo of diced beef.

Guess I’ll be rethinking how I use it. Which includes defrosting in time for a carer to cut it smaller and perhaps a nice salad with Portuguese spices.

mmm…. Now I’m hungry…

New Years Eve

Published March 2, 2018 by helentastic67

New Years Eve

New Year’s Eve

For weeks now, I’ve been excited (slight exaggeration) for plan’s for celebrating New Year’s Eve. Again, likely months ago now. Requests and offers of people coming to me, all politely declined.

Staying home

For the ten years I worked in clubs in my 20’s, meant every New Year’s Eve was out at a club I was working at.

Working New Years Eve

Sure, all my friends were there and it was like a huge friendly party with great music. But I still had to work.

These days, I don’t often go out in the evenings, if I do it’s with a friend who drives and they look after me, door to door.

It’s not a crowded and busy affair and ideally, I don’t come home so exhausted, I fall over just trying to make a cup of tea.

Cup of tea

My ideal New Year’s Eve these days, is being in bed alone by midnight, there is nothing more tragic than seeing in the New Year by watching some count down on TV.

In bed