Asking for a Friend

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This might be a question for parents. If asking for a friend were walking my dog and let’s say there was flooding, If I saw your children unsupervised by their parents. That would be you, not me. You they who had these children. What if said children were out in said flooding areas and I want to know would it be up to me to rescue your children if they were at risk of drowning?

Or at what point would it be acceptable if I yelled at them to deter them from potential mishaps? Keeping in mind, I got the version of child I could manage, and my recent new addition now a full year old and officially no longer a kitten, has taught me I would have been a yelling parent. The kids I didn’t have are so lucky because while Freddie doesn’t pay attention, I’m good at yelling.

I remember, asking for a friend. I was discussing this scenario earlier with someone who was in the above potential scenario. We all know the moral and ethical answer. However, nobody wants to get in trouble for yelling at somebody else’s child. So, feel free to comment and provide feedback.

In the early days of having hellonwheels, I was fangin’ it through a park in Clifton Hill on Hoddle Street when I saw two young kids playing on piles of bark chips. I stopped to talk to them. I quietly told them I knew it was fun but maybe they should try not to spread it all over the grass and keep it to the designated garden bed. From out of nowhere, grandma hung up her phone to and stormed over to ask me what was wrong? I told her nothing was wrong and repeated the above to her and she took her two young grandchildren away. Which had not been my intent.

I’m Still Here and Making Pudding

Feeling really flat right now. You know those days it’s all too much and people that should love you don’t pick up what you’re putting down. It’s normally these days I don’t blog because I feel it’s a little too raw. So, I can’t make any good humour about things. Just appreciate I’m still here. I’m doing what I can, putting one foot in front of another planning to die healthy one day, a long time from now.

I’ll likely have more friends and beautifully kind people around me than those related to me. It’s weird at 53, the things I ended up being good at, even one-handed.

Last week I made two puddings the same day. Baked one that day, baked the other the next. Despite not all of Said-Puddings being out of my home, I made another this week. Some of the pudding after trying to deliver to its intended target, twice landed at the post office with the lovely ladies that always are kind and sweet to me. That’s not actually part of their job but I like to reward people with treats I make with love. Just for being who they are.

A friend took the time to visit yesterday while in Melbourne, was in my home while family dropped in for ten whole minutes. Five of which was spent criticizing me for my life choices, etc. She took me for dinner and while she then used public transport to get the two hours home, she kindly took some pudding and muled some to a friend that lives out near her.

Got feedback online late today from family about the expired used by dates on foodie treats, ungrateful the lot of them. No thanks for the delicious lemon tart I considered to get for them from my favourite cafe, costing me more than $10, I got myself one also and shared it with my friend.

I got a message from my friend tonight simply stating feedback on the bread-and-butter pudding. We had touched base earlier today about her arriving safely home and her car starting. For once I got to bed before she got home. Her feedback simply stating, “Your pudding was divine!”

If I could have everything else in life be as easy and productive as my pudding production, I would be a very happy woman. But none of that it seems in in my control.

About a month ago I arrived at my beauticians with a small container of my pudding and I put it in her hands at her front door. She works from home, she exclaimed immediately “It’s still warm!” I told her to take it to her kitchen and eat a spoonful. She came back a minute later with the washed container in her hands. She had inhaled it, then she stated she had half in one spoonful and she couldn’t leave the rest. Never is there a better compliment.

So, can I tell humans related to me if they can’t eat something with a lot of sugar in it, past its used by date to toughen up and eat some concrete. Asking for a friend?