You know those weirdos who notice cool vintage cars and send photos to a friend to confirm your suspicions about what make it is? That weirdo’s me.
Saw this car on Thursday when I was out with a carer, she got this photo for me and I promptly sent it to a friend. He confirmed with one word.
So, yeah. It’s a Fiat.
I can often commentate living on a busy intersection of the cars or trucks by the sound of the engines. It good like this,” WRX, Cheap import, Vintage Muscle car! Woolies delivery truck!” I’m sure I need to live on a less busy corner, but here we are.
I also follow some blogs I refer to as purely porn. No sexual gratification. One blog is dogs, one is cars. There are mostly unattainable cars to envy with one’s eyes and several car brand/companies I don’t even hit with a ‘Like’. The ones Jeremy Clarkson is scripted in a beige cardigan to state said drivers are boring and wear beige cardigans. Enough said.
Occasionally, you may have noticed I refer to something called Thunders or Thundies. Well, as women we’re on the eternal quest for comfortable undies. Actually, we hate that word. Undies. It’s like what your grandma used to wear, but the image we all have of knickers is something only afforded to the most young, bottomed girls most of us have long since passed.
When you are young, you can buy spares of knickers for $10 (based on 1980’s prices), you can wear just about anything but at some point (for me in my teens) you start to be told when your underwear shows through or despite of your clothing. We of course refer to it as VPL (Visible panty line or camel toe). I think the Canadians call it Moose knuckle. Yeah, that one is just plain wrong.
That’s for those who don’t know, is when you pull your underwear up so high your V-jay jay (vagina) is on display for all. Have you heard the line comedians use about guys wearing skinny jeans? Jeans so tight you can tell if they’re circumcised, yeah. It’s like that for girls minus the cutting, please. What?
I just Ross Nobled the shit out of this post too. Did you expect anything else? Back in 1994 OMG, I feel so old, not. I went to the UK and saving every cent before I left, I packed my three most comfortable pairs of underwear and did washing about every other day. I’m just saying it gets old fast. So, there you are in a foreign country with sizes that do not make sense. Choosing is a serious commitment (because it is) and getting it miserably wrong, because it’s not idiot proof. Just lucky I was in an English-speaking country.
So, my older sister had a similar situation many years later, but in New Zealand and I guess from her experience we all can reap the rewards. But in my sister’s case, she got lucky.
I will admit they cost much more, but every pair I buy is 100% on the money and by that I mean on my ASS.
Thunderpants, are a New Zealand based company of big, amusing and totally comfortable underpants with attitude for those of us who don’t want undies that go up our bums. This is their tag lines.
They do different sizes, ranging from small to XXL.
They are for New Zealand real ladies bottoms after all.
For which we all benefit.
My older sister years ago advised me against the hipsters. I wear the ones Bridget Jones would likely wear. What? I’ve got these weird bits on my hips that splay out of nowhere. Just like my Aunty Agatha (Not her real name). Thanks wench.
And my ass has these nice hollow bits on the sides. What’s with that? You can’t push those bits from up your sides to the hollow bits. Thankfully, on the whole, it’s still rather peach-like.
All things considered, where was I? These days, as the older ladies will at least, we prioritise money on things to have a bit of comfort. I will say, everything is better if you have on comfortable underwear and yes, they have different colours, patterns, styles even options for the kids and men.
Men’s underwear is not nearly as big a problem I suspect but matching thundies with your bestie brings a smile to my face.
Occasionally, I have been known to check the website five times a day, so I don’t miss my favourites and I will buy multiples of them when they do appear. I keep my eye on the sales page too for ones I don’t mind wearing around the house (ok, apartment), you know, your weekend plains. I will even gift special people with a pair. Not often, but I have been known too. Something chicks can do but, guys maybe not.
Every morning I announce to my carers which ones I get to wear, “Oh, it’s my space invaders!” then I sing a bar. Googled the song once. There really is barely a line I recall.
On occasion, I’ve stated to a carer “got my worms today!” She was a new carer and looked a little startled. She thought I meant I had actual worms. It’s actually, my older sisters nickname for one pair in particular. She has many names for some we’ve both had over the years. French Riviera (I called those deck chairs and umbrellas), but both works.
I’ve started a collection in my wardrobe for when my favourites get demoted (never thrown out, just demoted!) and it is a comforting thought, my search is over. Older sibling also gave me some wise advice years ago. Always get a size up from what you think you are, they will wear better and last longer.
So, I guess I definitely cannot get a fat arse as I will be in deep trouble. If you want to have a look, no commitments to purchase, here is the link.
Despite how it may sound, this is not an advert. How serious are you about your Thundies? And I think you realise I’m serious. They made me smile so much, I confess, when I have new ones, I purposely save wearing them until it’s a Wednesday when I see my chiro.
I have been known to get ready so when she enters the room I’m across the other side of the table with my pants down under my backside with full Thunder exposure awaiting her entrance. She sees them and lets out a laugh. Job done.
I will occasionally gift her with a text. It goes like this
There are times, few but worthy when I fall over. Now again, I seem like despite my disabilities you may think I wouldn’t fall over like a toddler or a chick. But I can, I do and I will.
It just always depends on where I am and the circumstances. Some years ago, I was standing beside my bed and fell over. No reason just went sideways to my left and landed like a sack of potatoes.
You may ask, you were so close to your bed, why not throw yourself at the bed, why not throw yourself at the bed? Yes, because that’s how it happens. When you fall, it’s usually a bit of a surprise, so in a way I’m lucky I didn’t land on the bed as I would have collected the hard timber on the side, which would have hurt despite not being as far away as the hard floor I landed on.
However, this Sunday night I had a bit of a tricky stumble. Tripping up on a slipper (it is tragic) and I stumbled backward. Have I mentioned if all I have to do is put my left foot back I won’t fall. Yeah so, I fall because I can’t trigger that response quick enough. But on this occasion, I landed with my back against the kitchen pantry door and made a slow slide downward to sit on the floor. It was like a slow slide, however halfway down I thought, “oh, I’ve got a plastic jug of cold water in my hand.” I briefly contemplated throwing it away from me onto the floor but ended up still holding it as I sat on the floor.
Beside me was a three tier Ikea trolley and I collected it under my right arm. The jug of water jiggled a little water out onto the floor. As I sat there thinking the jug was mostly still full, in my hand and I was dry.
You know those things we say or do that seem offensive, racist or ageist and we didn’t intend it that way? Here’s one of those posts.
Years ago, my older sister sent me one of those really cool bags that you keep inside your bag or car, or you know, somewhere handy. When you go into a supermarket or shop you pull it out and unfold or open it to put your purchases in. Once home, unpacks fold and return it to your bag for next time. My sister called it a ‘nanna bag!’
See? Not intending to be ageist but nailing it. Nannas are not wrong, that bag was so handy, then it shrank a bit after years of torture and washing. I’ve replaced it with a new model. This one has owls on it! It’s pretty cool, I got it from Wilbur. 🙂
The only problem it’s worse than trying to fold a map one handed, but I’m really lucky these days I’ve got two Japanese carers who live for this stuff.
Clap for Carers / Asian woman applauding at home in quarantine
See? Seeming racist.
Not meaning to be however, they seem to have infinite patience to fold, fold, tuck, fold and well, it seems to be their ‘Jam’. Like their ‘happy place’.
So, while not meaning to be ageist or racist, I’m noticing some vintage/nationalities have and contain certain skill sets or temperaments I don’t have and I have my own skill set and appreciate those that have the skills I lack.
Annoyingly, now I no longer have either of my Japanese carers so need a new one.
So, continuing with the grumpy women who disrespected me and felt she could or should tell me she thought I was a terrible advocate. I’m just saying I made this happen.
I know to a start with it does not look impressive. However, its perfect because down in Clifton Hill there are still some sections of the main roads that have the old grey stones and very deep gutters, where regularly people attempt to drive into a particular car parking spot just near my GP. Fairly certain I’ve made my own Mother nearly lose her mind when she did not want my advice on how to park her car.
But I can tell you I have a carer that wishes she’d taken my advice as this was the predicament, we found ourselves in one lovely Thursday afternoon.
While she consulted her insurance policy on her phone. Checking the fine print if they covered a tow truck? Pretty fine print on a mobile phone. Definitely. I decided to go find some Muscle, as I referred to it. A local cafe yield was two men. Discovered the car was front-wheel-drive and the muscle did not want to risk trying to lift the front of the car, not a big car, but good not to add physical injury to a sad stuck car.
A mum, in hospital scrubs was dropping her daughter to get her braces stopped to offer a hand. A man in not even a cheap suit enquired what our problem was? Note the difference there?
I had rung a few friends; some advice was offered but I couldn’t convince my carer to try it and the not very useful barely-suits man who didn’t want to get dirty. He didn’t look like he’d gotten his hands dirty in his life, would give it a go.
In the end my carers son came from work, swapped cars with us so we could continue our shopping and getting gear for the following days chores. He waited for the tow truck.
While waiting, several locals told us there were several cars each day that got themselves into trouble at that location. I couldn’t understand why the council hadn’t tried to make their city more accessible. An email or two later, over a few months where I told them I wasn’t demanding they remove the blue stone gutters that make the street interesting and original but was there something they could do to deter a repeat incident at that location.
Fast forward a few months and this happened
So, to that Hell-Hater. Take that.
I know it’s not ground-breaking and there’s still world peace to solve. Sometimes, the big advocacy stuff is harder than world peace and you gotta celebrate the small stuff.
Not throwing a party. But I wrote this post, little brag.
I’ve previously covered that the definition of “to bruise easily” is finding a bruise on your body and not remembering how you got it. For over a week my carers have been pointing out this bruise on my left arm. And I recall exactly how it happened. This is from when I took on a fence while out on my scooter, it’s still standing but so am I.
I have a tendency to take the High Street to go out on HellOnWheels to do some Hunter/Gathering at times to help get ahead of what I need to achieve with my carer on a Friday and to be a little creative, take a break from the High Street, I take some smaller side streets to cut through the smaller streets, on this particular day I encountered a shopping trolley someone had thoughtfully left on the footpath leaning against a tree. I imagined I could fit through the gap. I was wrong.
I reversed, got off my scooter then pushed the trolley onto the road where a driver could curse the universe later. I continued home.
Since then, when questioned by my carers, I respond, “I took on a fence! The fucking thing is still standing!”
Sometimes I will message a friend just to tell him how I am or cheer them up and then I realize oh that really could’ve been a blog post that really needs a bigger audience than audience of one, so he goes.
Twenty-four months ago I bought some sachet’s for a face mask I’ve still got three left this is before and after.
Was catching up on some of my data entry today when I realised how well I cope with my brain injury. So well, people often forget my AVM/ABI is not so much mental but physical.
I guess the point of my blog is to educate people that all brain injuries are different. While catching up on my data entry, which is a lovely excel spreadsheet where I record the carer hours and other services for future reference, I realised a date in November 2020 I had so much on at the same time it wasn’t funny. Yet I can cope. This particular day, I had my Personal Care (PC), carer for an hour. My community access carer, despite not going out arrived just ahead of the PC chick. All of which I can work with, as can they.
I still had to be presentable as I had a committee meeting via Zoom. While I don’t do make-up when I’m not out of my home (apartment!). I won’t do make-up to stay at home, but I do need to not do colour and then I remembered my MOTHER was here. It was not planned; it was very last minute the night before. But it is what it is.
My mum had gone out to her appointment and returned by the end of the Zoom meeting. By which time my handyman had arrived. My handyman comes once yearly for a spring clean. Does windows on the inside, the fan covers in the bathroom, any areas on walls or floor that take a serious hit and it’s not the light cleaning my weekly HC (home care) carers need to do. Suddenly with too many warm bodies in my apartment, a complaint goes out that it’s too hot and can the A/C go on? Well, it’s set still too hot but here’s the remote, work it out.
Still three people are in my home and I’m to prioritise what everybody wants as the most important thing to solve first. At this point I get a bit grumpy. OK! We are working on it, if you can’t help, don’t be part of the problem my mum gets the heater to cool air.
There is a new calm. Mum makes her lunch and coffee and departs for her long drive home. What she was here for had been achieved.
Despite what she may think of how I feel about my mum. My mum is a ROCKSTAR! She really is.
The second carer gets her stuff done for me and departs. It’s just me and the handyman and a recently departed carer visits for a bit. She distracts the handyman briefly with talk of fruit trees and such. I’m meant to roll with the punches, it’s fine. The handyman goes, as does the visitor.
My brain is fried. But I coped with all the craziness. All these things, they wouldn’t normally happen ALL AT THE SAME TIME.
I’m no more broken than normal, however the title refers to me posting some blogs out of order from the previous ones.
Living on a busy intersection in an apartment complex. I want to put a sign up on the tram stop downstairs. It will state! “PLEASE LEAVE YOUR ADDRESS SO WE CAN BE A BOGAN IN FRONT OF WHERE YOU LIVE”
It’s so convenient living in an apartment with a tram stop at your door, a supermarket close by, but add a tram depot around the corner, drunk people wait too late to get the tram to the city and get left at the last stop before the depot. There’s a pub too and a random bogan who overuses my favourite word and a petrol station.
A bogan downstairs who just ignores basic etiquette. Anyway, I’m just saying I hear an engine and I can tell it’s a Coles or Woolworths delivery truck.
So I guess it’s time to say a belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, so I suggest as 2022 starts I’m going to make a New Year’s resolution. A simple one and that is to better be able to decipher my own handwriting. As I’ve been one-handed for over 10 years now, I’ve started to develop carpal tunnel so I think this year will be getting much-needed carpel tunnel surgery. Imagine this means ill have no hands for a bit. A week if all goes well. To be continued.
January, I learnt years ago, that it is really hard is achieve anything in the Disability sector. So now I just have learned to relax and take time off. Not racing around trying to fit everything in, is a holiday in itself. So much still to do, including the now overdue Ladies Lunch with the Ladies in my family for our Christmas get together. Yeah, I know! Someone recently said, “You get together once a year with family for Christmas and realise why you don’t bother to see them during the year” Yes, a comedian, of course. Covid hasn’t made it any easier, but I think the less time we spend with family the less we have in common and the less we understand how to best communicate.
So, Christmas day I had a migraine because well I don’t get a day off from having migraines. A friend came over for an hour to set up some tech and three days, later he told me he had to isolate and get tested for Covid-19 he was fine but he was very stressed about the two people he’s going to spend some time with on Christmas Day.
It is summer in Melbourne, I don’t tell many people I am spending Christmas alone, it is better to not disclose this until after the fact. It doesn’t help when people give you lots of pity, for some people spending Christmas at home alone is better than all the alternatives. In my case staying at home means I get Carers from my normal agencies, I don’t lose my independence and it is easier to deal with being alone rather than spending time in someone else’s home and spending time alone.
The best time on my balcony as my Hot Chocolate Calla Lillie’s are in bloom.
A special mention to the anonymous person/ ‘s who gifted me my new iPhone 13. I’ve been learning new things. And hopefully I’ll get better at doing things Hands-Free. Briefly.
So, going forward please stay safe. Covid, sorry the Plague, is still kicking our asses, so be mindful, we don’t get to celebrate and have big parties (Plague-spreading events) just because we fear another Lockdown. Melbourne holds first place for the most to date. (6) Not something to be proud of. But here we are.
Hell onWheels/Life One Handed 