I’m Still Here and Making Pudding

Published January 11, 2026 by helentastic67

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?

Crisis

Published November 8, 2021 by helentastic67

Crisis

I’ve recently suffered another birthday. Did I suffer? No! Given the alternative, I’d rather suffer another birthday.

I turned 48, yes! I know you were all wondering, so I just ripped the band-aid off. I don’t even have an issue with being this age. What’s in a number?

I’m going to start to bring into my writing influences of age and wisdom. Maybe this post should be called that? But it won’t always be subtle, but it will be there.

My beautician (yes! I’m that age where I consider I have one of those), one day I turned to ask how her day was and she had spent her morning helping a younger lady because she was not even upset but distraught because she was about to turn (wait for it!) 30.

Did you hear me? Fucking 30! Eye roll!

I asked said beautician (let’s call her J), “Did you slap her?” I am not about to shame the much younger generation so hang in there. Allow me to teach you something?

Up until 20, you learn, you play really. You know NOTHING, you think you know everything. Then your 20’s. In your 20’s, you sort out who you are in life. You hopefully work hard, play harder, but you settle into the who you will grow up to be maturity.

Then 30, again, say it with me now. FUCKING 30.

That’s when you should be able to not need to make the big decisions in life. They should be done with and should still be working hard and be able to play harder too. So, it is to say, I know I’m not ‘young’ anymore. But I’m not old either.

I learned some years ago I was no longer ‘Young’, when I saw a ‘cool’ pair or streetwear jeans on a younger girl and she and her friend were getting off the same train I was getting off, I said “cool jeans!” and she said nothing and after getting off the train, she and her friend shared an embarrassing giggle.

I clearly wasn’t asking where to buy them. I did my streetwear jeans like a pro in my 20’s and now my left foot would get tangled and I would fall over. Let alone, I can’t get in and out of jeans in a hurry when I need to, or I just can’t do jeans anymore.

But a lesson to the ‘young’, when someone is giving you a compliment, be graceful. One thing is required of you and I want you to practice it with me now. Say “Thank you”

Some old lady (me in this case) used to be you and she just appreciates what you have going on, even though she no longer can. That is the correct and only thing required of you. Most importantly, you will be old(er) one day too. (If you are lucky)

Now, to the older generation.

I know, I’m not as old as you, I already make the noises you make when I get up and to the older generation. You have not survived two world wars, one maybe. My friend Bette survived the second world war. She was fostered out of London, from her parents to stay with a family on a farm back in that era. The government paid the families to feed them and she tells me they used them as slave labour.

Anyway, I digress

I’m saying, I am old enough to recall a time when there was such a thing as customer service. Oh, what’s that? It’s when someone greets you when you go into a store and just in passing asks you how you were, it’s a friendly way to let people know you are there if you need any assistance and you would assist people even if it meant directing them to another store. Because the mentality was, if you wanted good customer service they would come back.

The irony is even with my blogging process, my cafe/writing process and my now Girl-Friday typing up my posts and the fuck you Covid putting a serious kink in my access to cafes to write and here we are I only just turned 48!

Not complimenting too many young people these days, but still intend to.

Today’s Lunch – 23rd October 2019

Published October 23, 2019 by helentastic67

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Got an amusing story to share of my Monday, hope you appreciate it. Monday, I did some voluntary work for a group where my task was to ask the clients/patients to fill in a survey of 66 questions. As the people had not met me before I attempted to convey confidence to the staff that I would be fine to do as I had been asked. The waiting room was full, an older man in the corner had the nod’s or soon after was fast asleep.