R.I.P. D5

Published March 24, 2025 by helentastic67

R.I.P. D5

I would suggest this is happening too often already. You would think fifty-two years old, would be considered middle age as I don’t know I’m going to make it to one hundred and four years old, nor would I want to. However, people I love are falling off the perch already and it’s too soon. If you don’t know, falling off the perch is the elderly term for dying.

Apart from the passing in late 2022 of my father’s death and the recent departure of a very close friend, she’s not dead just not in my weekly routine anymore. I learnt a week ago a friend from my clubbing days in my twenties had passed. He worked for me back in the day.

I think we bonded because we were from a similar part of the Victorian countryside. While I moved to Melbourne at nineteen to study and work, he moved to Melbourne without the same kind of plan. Not in place anyway. When I asked him why, he responded with “I looked around and just said No!” with a little shake of his head. Like me it was just an instinct to get the fuck outta town.

Around 2000 I had moved back to the country, not born in my hometown but to a more isolated community where my mum and younger sister had moved to. I needed a lift to town and a V-Line bus to go anywhere further. It was hard.

Every few months I’d get back to Melbourne and couch surf for a few days, to go clubbing and catch up with as many people as possible. Going to clubs was the easiest way.

Standing in a goth club I heard this song, looking around at how many people were dancing and not recognizing it, I found D5 close by and he asked that I didn’t know who it was. I was like, “No! I’m living back in the country where you get fuck all exposure to new music” let along anything else. This song will always remind me of him.

I guess a warning might be in order. But the beat is really good.

I’m sure for most it will be a lot, but her wiki page is interesting, if you dare. If you don’t follow my blog for a little different, you are in the wrong place. Teaches of Peaches – Wikipedia

So, around the time of my fiftieth birthday, I sent D5 an invite for my gathering in case he thought to join. My father had passed earlier that month and for years we had drifted, but I always send him a birthday text as he was born on Valentines Day. Bit hard to forget that one.

He came to my birthday and we caught up a few times, I cooked him dinner, my single girl dinner reminiscent from my twenties and that Christmas he gave me a lift to my father’s house in my home town on the way to his hometown. So, we had a three-and-a-half-hour road trip to chat and for me to own the CD Player and have him guess what I’d put on.

Moments after he had left me at my dad’s there was a knock on the door. He was there holding up the black thumb cast for my trigger thumb. “Good luck thumbing a ride without that?” He was rather reserved and shy but when he shared his wit it was a treat for your soul.

While I didn’t see or hear from him often and there had been years in between when he had been married and doing his thing it was always a comfort to know he was out there walking the earth. He is survived by his twin and his cat.

He told me his marriage had ended like many during the Covid 19 lockdowns when couples were confronted with being around each other in close confines 24/7 apparently, they looked at each other and just both said No.

Now, alas, the world is bereft from his passing. He had chosen to fight his battle with cancer with only a small few aware this was his fate. He had told me he was dealing with something but not what. He was about seven years younger than me and the younger brother I never knew I needed. But our world forever better for the time he had been amongst us.

R.I.P. D5.

I am too young to be saying goodbye to friends

* D and the number there after referring to the number of Dave’s in the club days, I’ll cover that another day. D5 was a longstanding Dave and not to be undervalued despite not being D1- D6+ ceased to exist. Obviously, finishing today’s post without my regular cheer.

Trying to Catch Up

Published November 27, 2023 by helentastic67

Trying to Catch Up

Feeling like I’m behind on so many things right now, including blogging. It just seems I can’t catch up. There are often layers of red tape and bureaucracy to wade through to maintain life as I know it now. Let alone try to expect more from life like Normal people take for granted.

Yes, I know. It’s going to be a rough few posts so strap in. It’s that time of year again (October) where I try to keep my head down and avoid getting stabbed in my heart and soul any more than normal. I just can’t take it. This time of year is traditionally hard because it’s my birthday at the end of the month and it’s always shit.

It’s my belief a person’s birthday is special. It’s the one day of the year that they are special, celebrated. I don’t mean fireworks but people showing they give a flying tutti fruitti.

It shouldn’t surprise anybody that I’m single. What!? How? You seem like a reasonable and decent human. Don’t worry, it’s the million-dollar question even my google mini can’t answer. Today’s post will not be about that.

My favourite question of google is “Where’s my husband!” I just want you to know google does not have a sense of humour. She responds with enquiring if “He” had an appointment, seriously.

So, I digress, normally, my family would arrange a Ladies Lunch for the day of my birthday. Often not contacting me until the week before to lock in a location and getting family further away to be included. I am roughly in the middle of my two siblings and their respective partners and my mum. So, travel for everyone but myself was required.

It’s frustrating that these days is considered so late as if I don’t have an offer from family, it’s too late to find a friend to do hangs with so I’m not alone. All my friends are busy. Often away on weekends. Which is fair. They are allowed, it’s just shit being alone on your birthday, to be continued.

Rules for Life

Published June 26, 2023 by helentastic67

Rules for Life

Sometimes, I might have some simple wise words to share on how to be a decent human being. Today, I feel could be one of those days.

It’s a friend’s birthday.

Rule 1. Wish them a Happy Birthday.
Rule 2. (Almost as important as Rule number 1 if not more so?) Do NOT choose that day to unload your personal baggage ON THAT PARTICULAR DAY! IT’S SO SIMPLE BUT, SOMETIMES PEOPLE NEED REMINDING, this day is not about you.

Please leave a comment if you have had this happen to you.

Hit Like.

Happy Mother’s Day

Published May 15, 2023 by helentastic67

Happy Mother’s Day

So Happy Mother’s Day, this should go for Fur-Mothers Too. As it seems I forgot to have kids, or did I? To be continued.

As Single Barren Spinster we know the last thing parents of actual little humans is unsolicited advice from someone who has not spawned a baby. However please read this whole post to get the context to this brilliant parenting advice.

Last Monday I had an adventure to a shopping complex my carers and I call The Bad Lands/Knife Land. After a few purchases I visited the bathroom near a food court. Upon exiting to leave I could hear a screaming child. Immediately making my ovaries dry up. My eyes wild I searched for my carer to communicate to her to get me the hell away from that screaming child. Then we encountered said child and I felt awful. Said child and mum were sitting on the floor. The Mum trying to console her three or four year old daughter. She had run headfirst into a glass door then slid over. Probably in her own blood. I would guess this family, including the father standing nearby not knowing how to help were Indian. Another Indian woman was behind the mum on the floor looking on assessing the situation. I pegged her as staff of the shopping complex. She looked to be assessing if they should call an ambulance. She was looking to the Mum to make the decision. I made eye contact with the staff member hoping she read my non-verbal communication, as “Call an Ambulance!” Here’s the unsolicited advice? “If there are inconsolable tears and blood? Call an ambulance!” It’s not wrong though, is it?

I imagine the Mum had big plans that day and probably didn’t have the time to be waiting in a hospital emergency. But that little girl needed glue. They don’t do stitches these days and I suggest this because guess whose birthday it was that day? WORST BIRTHDAY EVER! She was going to have a scar from that memory.

Now, before you judge me for jumping the gun, take this into consideration. My father’s passing bought family from New South Wales and Queensland I either don’t see very often or haven’t seen since I was 18. Nice work Dad. My youngest cousin has a sixteen month old and her fiancé was sitting next to me at a catch up dinner around Boxing Day. He outsourced babysitting to another young second cousin, I would guess twelve. This was so he could eat dinner and so could his wife to be. The second five minutes of outsourcing babysitting the toddler was returned with a confession, “She had fallen over and hit her head!” Dad was brilliantly dismissive, with a “Don’t worry about it! Is she crying or bleeding?” I complimented him for this and I was informed “Ain’t my first rodeo!” (He has older children) I’m just saying they breed them tough in Queensland.

Lastly, I may not have had children, so people generally dismiss any advice I offer but people forget or don’t know I’ve been the older sibling to two younger sisters, the first of which was born on my 8th birthday. I used to bath her and do nappy duty. My second youngest sister I was studying full time, working part-time and still doing serious babysitting duties. I was then 16, it’s not only actual birth mothers that do the heavy lifting.

This is my fur-baby, Mika! She is desperate not to be a Lap Cat. She is very close on the back of the couch.

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.

Hate

Published November 1, 2021 by helentastic67

Hate

It’s a strong word and by November every year, it’s an emotion I find I’m overwhelmed by. It’s when I also purposely don’t write. I just shut down and deal because I’m so very grumpy, but if I never write about it, maybe everyone out there in the world will never know they are not alone.

So, months later, ok two months later, I sit to write, hopeful that the strong case of grumpy (or hate) has mellowed sufficiently so people I know don’t all quickly reach for the pills or razors or tequila (just don’t do it!).

Later October it’s my birthday, I mean, I normally try to upsize all of October to make it “my month” But while Covid kicked everyone in the face in 2020, the few things I look forward to in October, I missed out on. Going out for lunches, cake, coffee and adventures.

My birthday generally sucks anyway and not because It’s when we get older. Whatever, who gives a Tutti Frutti. (Trying to swear less this year? See how long that lasts!) but my birthday is not a big celebration.

Not since my 8th birthday when my baby sister was born and a year later, we were both sick on my 9^th birthday and her 1^st birthday. So, 15 months and a week after her birth, she passed away from cancer. It was very ordinary.

To say in the early 80’s people, family, complete strangers did not know how to deal with the grief of losing someone so young. Still don’t, but really didn’t back in the ’80s. So, anyway birthdays suck. Check!

November rolls around and I have to start thinking and planning what is happening for Christmas. The ladies, my mum, two sisters, one partner at sister and me, that’s five. Check!

We go out for a lovely lady’s lunch, somewhere nice. Often expensive. There is wine (not for me, thanks) yummy dessert and banter. The exchanging of gifts to be unwrapped later (maybe).

My older sister is often issued the warning “No shakey, shakey!” She is terrible, can’t help herself. It’s hilarious.

Money is always an issue, some of us worry about money, some don’t. So, there is a balance of power thing going on. Then there’s actual Christmas, who will be where? My mum and younger sister live in the country, I lived there with them for two years around 2000. The home is perfect for them and putting a third in the mix unhinges us all. Upon arrival there I’m issued a warning as soon as I get out of the car. Be careful. There is the constant OH & S (Occupational Health and Safety) warning. Yeah, I get it. It’s a fucking hazard! (That didn’t take long, did it?) I could slip or trip or just plain face-plant. There was the year I stepped onto my mum’s front verandah to smell the fresh country air. This was the warning I received, “Be careful! If you go for a walk over by the water tank! There’s a snake living in the weeds!” To which I promptly turned around and went back inside. FUCK NO! I did not come home to be messing with any snakes. No! No! No! No! No!

My older sister and her now fiancé, live in the opposite direction. We all used to gather down there so we had Christmas together, they have a holiday house that meant we could stay there without being all over each other. Obviously, there is always a matter of who does the most on the day in the kitchen, but even one-handed I can pack a dishwasher like a Pro and I do my share as best as I can. But I miss the fun times in the kitchen, planning some yummy pasta dish for Christmas Eve, the hands on making of it, the hunter, gathering to prepare all the ingredients, etc too. Unfortunately, I am excluded and that hurts.

For about 4-5 years now I’ve gone home to my mum’s. Yawn, the place I lose my independence as soon as I arrive. We are all tired, grumpy and have our own interests. By which I mean I am not sitting and watching Survivor or MasterChef episodes from earlier in the year. Just NO!

So, I spend a lot of time alone. Mum gives me her bedroom so I can spread out. I take my cat (normally) who stays down that end of the house. We hibernate, I binge watch my TV shows too, because when I come out to see what’s happening, I’m literally shooed away. And if I don’t go home to mum’s, my older sister doesn’t think to include me. There’s the whole cat/dog ratio thing too.

Dog people/ Cat people!

When I have taken my cat home, they also have a cat, and they need to be kept apart. There’s are outdoor neighbourhood cats, they roam, looking for food. What a nightmare.

My father? Oh, my parents divorced twenty-five years ago, after twenty-five years of marriage. Don’t get me started, from my mum I never hear the end of it. I love both my parents.

I try every at Christmas, to see my father when I’m up north and It’s hard because my dad is not completely understanding all of my disability quirks. He is just very opinionated that I must move out of the city so one day maybe I can save some $$$$’s for a deposit and own something one day. He does not live in Helen’s real world. He does not know; he would not understand and there’s no point trying to teach him.

So, people think I’m included in Christmas and that’s the end of the stay. Last year (2020) I stayed home alone in the city, because it was better than being somewhere I need help all the time and lose my independence immediately.

Christmas and family time. I’m just saying. It’s death by 1000 cuts.

In January, I’m just glad IT’S OVER! I get next year off.

Today’s Lunch – 24th July 2019

Published July 24, 2019 by helentastic67

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

I’m writing this with a migraine so cut me some slack.

Have been the usual way too busy, last Friday I went to the launch of the first Changing Places in Darebin (that’s my council district) in Preston. It still had that fresh/never used smell which I imagine won’t last long. Thankfully, my mobility won’t mean I ever need to use it. Not complaining!

Sunday saw the arrival of the ladies in my family arrive for the celebration of my mums 70th! Logistically, I’m more in the middle so mum booked a Japanese banquet close to me and I did thousands more steps than I normally rack up! (It’s normally 26 steps, which is the distance from my bed to the couch a few times!)

I had a moment before mum arrived at the restaurant to seek my sisters’ partners advice. I did show the Aussie Slang card to mum and she did laugh but she would not have been pleased had I given it to her. I would never by the way.

I confess I’m not big on raw fish. At one point, my younger sister (30) commented to me “it’s tuna! It tastes like jello!” No, it didn’t. It felt like slime. I’m much more into tempura and definitely the green tea ice cream.

Now, today’s fine offering is panino Milanese with salad and medicine!

Lastly, a shout-out to my Young John and his wife Young Betty who are currently in Greece and to my lovely masseuse and friend Caroline who is in Italy with her husband! Where the rule of no pasta for health reasons sadly still applies. Speaking of pasta.

Young John & Betty

Italy

Last Friday my Girl Friday and I did pasta on Smith Street Collingwood. Here is a before and after picture.

Pasta Before

Pasta After

Today’s Lunch – 13th March 2019

Published March 13, 2019 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Today, I am going to start with a free gift. What? I know. I never. Your welcome! Wait, what?

You know I’m part of a self-advocacy group of people with brain injuries and a project was to create an App for free download to help people anywhere in the world with brain injuries. Or not……who want to see me live! And talking……..if you dare.

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.braininjurymatters.abiwise&hl=en

Yeah, it’s when I realised, I’ve a face for radio, but full disclosure, I am very low maintenance these days and no matter what I always look stoned or hungover. Awful when you are never either. I’m just tired and after a long weekend and an early start Tuesday shy of a migraine! Yeah, that was yesterday.

Looking stoned

Oh, met some people from just south of Seattle in the city yesterday. I took them part way on my way to the Pancake Parlour, as they just looked lost. I love offering complete strangers in the city directions. It’s even better when I know where they are wanting to go. Too easy! They were really lovely.

Giving directions

Happy to be doing my usual punchy/stabby day! Really need to be well-adjusted today and even better to have a nice lunch, today’s lunch is Calabrese pizza with the side salad and my medicine.

Pizza Latte

This is the birthday cupcake extravaganza I presented my carer on Monday and the French Toast I made her, complete with cuppa tea in my wonder woman mug. (Yeah, she is!)

Birthday muffin French Toast

Cheers,
H

Today’s Lunch – 31st October 2018

Published October 31, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays lunch birthday

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Before I get started, how good is pineapple? I have recently rediscovered pineapple! Not big on fruit and hate buying it and it dying before I remember to eat it. So, very happy to introduce non-Australians to our very cool Big things. The big pineapple!

The Big Pineapple
Had my once a year haircut last Friday………here’s some pictures of my new hairdressing salon!

Annual Haircut

And because I stretch out my birthday celebrations for a week, here’s some photos of my actual birthday lunch. On the way over, Google Helen (giggle Helen) provided directions. You don’t come to my part of town and rely on google!

Including my Blood Orange mocktail with rosemary, and things I’ve forgotten. A amazing shoulder roast lamb, with salad, corn on the cob and zucchini chips and (OMG) Saganaki (haloumi cheese grilled with figs) mmmmmmmmmmmm…….

And Monday, my favourite cake from my favourite cafe. I can never recall what it’s called so when ordering I describe it as “chocolate salted caramel thing?” And Gabriel will tell the new-be what it’s called. I convinced Caroline to share it with me. Each bite all she could say was “Oh My God! That’s Amazing!” Which is why I took a second piece home. To last me the rest of the week.
Hey! No judgement. It’s birthday week! There are no calories in birthday week!

Chocolate cake

And a few weeks ago I got to an exhibition in West Melbourne with a friend to catch a chic I was at high school with back in the day. She is an artist who is based in New York! This is some of her smaller work. She did these in her last visit a few months ago so they could go in this group exhibit.
I always find myself at these arty things thinking why does this woman look familiar? (She is thinking the same thing of me) and I go through the rolodex of my history as to where we may have crossed paths? Oh, at one of my artists friends’ openings. Still got it!

Art 1 Art 2

Art 3

Art 4

And as I’ve finally even able to have someone get me to appointments on a Wednesday. Wednesday has resumed normal programming. Today’s offering. Pumpkin Arancini with side salad with my medicine.

Pumpkin Arancini Latte

Cheers,
H

Mika

Today’s Lunch – 20th June 2018

Published June 20, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Now, for something a little different. Are you aware I spend my Saturdays off-grid? No emails, no mobile, no touching my diary. Don’t do ‘Adult’ and if I can avoid it barely do ‘Person’ (No shoes, no bra, no having to be polite to people) so, Saturday went like this, Melbourne collected by my sister and her partner around 9am.Jerrilderie, Tocumwal, Griffith and a 70th birthday party and a cousin’s reunion. Haven’t seen most of my relatives on my mum’s side since my grandfather’s funeral over ten years ago. I hadn’t had my disability for long and thankfully not too many questions about what I did, or what happened to my arm. It there’s nothing like being asked how often I see my older sister who only lives 90 minutes away, how often we see each other since we live so close and my sister stepping back to let me answer. Twice a year, to kill a conversation. Isn’t there always an assumption that if someone in a family is sick or broken that people can put their own stuff aside to help? My sister mentioned being busy. She has just been in Europe for a month’s holiday. Great pictures by the way.

Family reunion

In general, I’ve found if you are not married or in a relationship, don’t have children and don’t work, nobody really asks anything. Oh, I was asked how I was, sure but you know the only answer I gave was “Good. Yeah, good. I’m here!” What am I meant to say? But really, there’s not much to be done about it. I did however meet my second cousin, he was still in a high chair. What just happened? They are prolific breeders up in New South Wales. (I don’t mean to make that sound wrong) So, here are some fun photos.

You know you are in a small country town when you see this.

Pastries

And the Ned Kelly things.

Ned Kelly

And the only photo I took of our motel in Griffith. Seemingly, the land of oranges and grapevines.

Motel

And impressively, with all my years of clubbing in Melbourne and playing my music obnoxiously loud, I’ve never been to a party where all of a sudden around 11pm, we realised it had gotten quiet outside only to be told the police had come and shut the party down. Neighbours had complained about the music and the police agreed it wasn’t even very loud. Outside it was very cold and this was a great source of warmth, if you could be on a constant rotisserie.

Fire pit

Never has my favourite App on my phone been so abused. Yes, the weather App. 9 degrees outside and the most important part. “feels like 4”. They also breed them tough in New South Wales. Clearly.

Cold Weather

Oh, not to mention the birthday cake? Did I mention, they are a family and generation of sewers.

Birthday Cake

And the CWA approved Pavlova!

Pavlova

So Sunday, back to Melbourne. Left Griffith around midday. How long did it take to get back? I hear you ask? All friggin day! Seriously, so far! We came back via Yarrawonga and stopped to catch up with my dad. He doesn’t live there but is there regularly. Lunch, lemon, lime and bitters with a coffee for the road.

Plane

And, where were we?

Today’s lunch!

I got distracted by talking to real people. They were lovely. Had pizza today, no salad. Just pizza.
And medicine. Have been watching the pizza show by some Italian hipster dude from New Jersey.
So, let there be pizza!
Pizza Latte