Miracle

Published May 17, 2019 by helentastic67

Miracle

The beauty of being in Australia is we have a long weekend, being part of the Commonwealth means we get to celebrate the Queen’s birthday and not just once a year, but twice. Don’t ask me when, but TWICE.

Although I don’t work, even I’m glad to have an extra day off around the weekend. But it comes with some consequences, the appointments, the carers and services I normally spread out over five days, I have to squash them into only four. There are always extra things cropping up I need to fit into the mix.

Last week was a short week and the extra things being, my mum arriving Tuesday morning at 2am to collect my sister from the airport at 6am. So, my sleep was already compromised. I’d had my Friday services of shopping and my only food prep shift with a carer that had to happen somewhere else. Add to that the services on the Thursday I had to move to accommodate the above and you have the perfect storm. I’m surprised by the Friday I didn’t have a migraine.

Thursday, I had three carers all of which overlapped and I even had the scooter guy to do a maintenance sorting me out with two new batteries and a charger. I returned home with my shopping carer to do the food prep shift, where we normally smash out three things at once, part of each I’ve generally started to get ahead of the ‘crazy’. I had the gas guy there to check the burners of my stove top and they had NEVER BEEN DONE.

I think the apartment block is four to five years old and the fact I made it through the week without a migraine now, makes me think it could have been a miracle.

I think we have another long weekend next month, Cup Day, great. Gotta plan now to get ahead of that. It’s a month away.

Heritage – Part 2

Published May 13, 2019 by helentastic67

Heritage Part 2

The other differences in my grandparents was this. When visiting my Anglo-Saxon grandparents, we would go out to the “Workshop” to visit my granddad in his office where he ran his Construction company, he started it way back in the mid-sixties.

I recall when I was young, going into his office and playing with his letter opener. It was a sword in its own scabbard. (Something he picked up on a holiday overseas) These grandparents were travelers. My father worked for my grandfather.

When we visited them at home, I recall getting out of the car and racing ahead, we would go through the garage, between the two cars there, inside the door that took us inside and walked down into the kitchen. Some days the smell of Linseed oil and Turps would greet us. Going down to the kitchen/dinning room and Nanna would be at the dinning room table with her white china and oils spread out around her. She was a woman of creative habits.

Set days, she would bake, others she would play nine holes of golf, others go to her fine bone china painting group or do her afternoon of painting at home or sewing.

If my grandfathers purple (aubergine) Datsun was in the garage, it meant he was home. We would check for him in his office and he would hug us and let us stand on his feet, while he walked us around some. (until we got too big).

In comparison, my granddad was the affectionate one, my Nanna was very grumpy and she wasn’t even very old. My Nanna was riddled with cancer. On one visit (I might have been six?) I let myself in the garage door and because mum had insisted, we knock, Nanna had, had some surgery to remove lumps of cancer from the inside of her legs (one thigh, one calf). In case she was resting, I knocked, she came down and let us in and as she walked ahead of me towards the living room area down the hallway, light filtered down, her thin cotton skin rather see through with the light coming from the windows down into the hallway. I would clearly see the huge chunks taken out of her legs. They were cut out back to the bone. I recall thinking that if they were both the same part of her legs, you could kick a soccer ball down the hall and it would pass straight through.

There are several things about this memory, 1) I was not into soccer. 2) They really weren’t big enough for a soccer ball and 3) Is this wrong? Or can I be forgiven because I was only a child? Note the preference in those three.

Cancer was a theme with this Nanna. She eventually had a brain tumour and the last time I recall seeing her, mum was in the kitchen doing dishes looking out the window towards the sink and I asked where Nanna was? I was told to go sit with her in the lounge.

She was wearing her dressing gown sitting on the couch. I sat and asked her if I could get her anything? She did want something, but couldn’t think what it was called. I asked her what colour it was? Trying to help her a little, turning it into a game. I don’t know if I knew at the time how serious it was, but I handled her gently, trying to help her.

She got more and more grumpy and frustrated, eventually she got up and I followed her to the fridge in the kitchen. She opened the door, then her crisper and pulled out an orange. Grrr.

You can appreciate her frustration, right?

She passed away at only fifty-eight.

More to write, just hit pause.

Heritage – Part 1

Published May 10, 2019 by helentastic67

Heritage Part 1

I was introducing a friend last night to the best thing about roasted vegies (if I tell you I have to kill you) and it led me to tell her the difference between my mum’s family heritage and my fathers. So, the basics were when I was growing up, we on a rare occasion we went to my grandparents’ house for dinner and we had a roast. Pork crackling yummy goodness, my older sister and I would sit at the ‘kids table’ (I know, doesn’t happen now, does it?) We would sniff around the kitchen and offer to help and beg for Pork crackling. “If you eat it all now, there will be none to go with dinner” like we cared.

My mum’s side seemed very English with a Sunday roast for lunch or dinner. In complete contrast, the Italian side of my family was Sunday Lasagne. So, at home our Sunday roast was Lasagne and it would last for days. Garfield would be proud.

So, also in contrast to Nona’s, we would be served generous portions of spaghetti and Nona would be at the kitchen sink doing the dishes and not sitting with us. Mum would tell her to sit and join us, while my father and grandfather spoke Italian. Nona would ay to start without her. Mum would nudge her husband to tell Nona to join us and then, he would jut tell my mum to let her go. Mum would then look to me to go get Nona to sit and join us. She would be washing the big pot by this stage and shoo me away.

Isn’t it interesting how times and culture has changed?

Today’s Lunch – 8th May 2019

Published May 8, 2019 by helentastic67

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Was in the city yesterday and as I got off the train at Flinders Street station the announcement came over the loudspeaker, “Welcome to Flinders Street station, it’s currently 14 degrees in Melbourne.” and my internal commentary replied “Yes, it is!”

I’m considering my full-length pants already, which is my winter option and it also means no pocket! I miss having pockets!

Need some more calm today, to catch up on some writing. and eating so today’s offering is an Ortolani quiche with a side salad and medicine.

I’m also commiserating I didn’t get into a short course I had applied for that would make me eligible to sit on a board. There were 2000 positions that exist in the corporate sector that could have the potential of me taking the next step toward advocating for people with disabilities. Otherwise, I shall have to keep blogging my brains out. Fine! I can do that too.

Also, I know others have more however! I now have 236 followers, still growing and working out how to get more likes and comments/feedback without selling out. Feeling needy but only because I too have needs.

Cheers

H

Bloody NDIS

Published May 6, 2019 by helentastic67

Bloody NDIS

Part of the issue with disability and the world of funding, before the NDIS and since. Before the NDIS I had a Case Manager (further more referred to as a CM) and since the ‘new’ language, is my CM is called a Service Co-ordinator.

What’s that? You wonder who came up with that and how long it took them.

I recently changed SC (yes, Service Co-ordinator) and my first sit down meeting with her mum was here and mum and I kept using the ‘old’ language of CM. Every time my new SC corrected us. She apologized, but said she would get us in the habit of using the correct term.

I told her that was fine, because I would eventually stab her to death with a fork.

Yes, she laughed.

As has everyone else I’ve suggested it. They know I jest. But brief second their faces drain of blood is totally worth it.

Happy

Published May 3, 2019 by helentastic67

Happy

Sometimes the littlest things make me so very happy. Not everything in my life is all hunky-dory. I’m still trying to encourage family to assist me to buy a clothes dryer and that is a monumental fucking nightmare. So, today on my scooter ride down to lunch, I did a little scooter stalking.

That’s where I scooter behind someone walking rather slowly along the footpath, oblivious to anyone else around them. I just pick my time to open ‘it’ up and overtake them and by the time I get to a major intersection close to where I’m going, I’m waiting at the lights and I spy someone I knew from the DAC (Disability Advisory Committee) opposite me and I give him a big cheesy smile and a wave if there is time.

I sometimes imagine that when I see people, I know who I have a history of friendship with and can have a conversation with a few words and facial expressions. I encountered Young John at this intersection and he called out to me that I was making him late and he would call my mother. So, I imagine to others who think all people on mobility scooters or people with disabilities cry into their cups of tea all the time, can’t smile (sometimes) or laugh or be happy.

Sure, it’s harder, it’s not as often, but when I laugh or smile, it’s contagious.

Catch some happy!

Today’s Lunch 1st May 2019

Published May 1, 2019 by helentastic67

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Today is a great day. Why is this you may ask? Well, I’m paying three bills today, while I could easily give my lovely assistant Girl-Friday (I have this carer Wednesday’s too more recently) the bills and the pre-prepared envelopes of cash for each bill, I love to have the satisfaction of paying my own bills. I still like to go to the post office to pay my bills rather than do it all online. At least the ones I don’t do online, I pay in person and even better, today I’m sending parcels, Noelle, my lovely administrator of this blog and the bringer of the memes that amuse me no end will have her parcel delivered in time for the weekend up in Sydney and another parcel is destined for someone I haven’t seen or heard from for a while, Oscar Dandelion’s Stephanie who is in Norfolk in the U.K. if you are reading this? Get ready.
I’m also posting a little something-something to my friend in Texas because I can’t help myself.

I’ve otherwise been doing some rearranging at home and trying to clear my desk in the study, which is a never-ending battle. So, if I find things that are destined for elsewhere, I prefer to get them there. If you are lucky, next week I’ll include a few pictures of my study.

Meanwhile, today for lunch I’m having half a pork schnitzel baguette with a side salad and medicine also a panachocolate! (When I say it I make it sound like a French Nanny! It’s a chocolate croissant.

.

Such a zombie today!

Cheers

H

Danger – SWEAR WORDS AHEAD

Published April 29, 2019 by helentastic67

Danger – SWEAR WORDS AHEAD

FUCK ME! I know, I know! Inappropriate, but that is the worst thing I think I growl or mutter at people when I’m out in the city getting to an appointment of some sort and negotiating all the ANNOYING people who cut me off or get in my way, they trip me, etc, etc ad nauseum, all while they are too damn preoccupied with their mobile phones.

The “FUCK ME” I deliver to people a I’m carefully making my way about the city is only after I have exhausted every other grumpy less offensive comment.

I did encounter at one point, a guy walking up some steps (there were about ten and I was heading down as he was heading up) and I am completely about to switch the grumpy off to cheeky. He was looking at his phone too as he ascended the steps, as he made it to the top, I felt the need to inform him. “Now, you are just showing off.” He did have to stop a moment and give me all of his attention and I did need to point out that I was being cheeky. But people have NFI (No Fucking Idea) what I do to manage when I’m out and about.

To give you an idea, I make a habit of walking on the side of the street, so I’m going in the direction I need to travel. I walk close to the shop fronts, so my better eyesight (right peripheral) enables me to see people dart out of shops without noticing anybody else and I can slow my pace to not get bowled over. I cross the lights at the lights and someone will always cut across me to stand at my righthand while looking down eyes glued to their phones. That generally gets a growl.

ent

I was off to the city yesterday and in the course of the day I got a taxi (I love Young John) then a train, then a tram, then did way too much walking before doing another train out of the city, then finally a tram home.

By the time I successfully made it home, I had managed 5,000 steps. WINNING. And the whole day I COULD NOT FEEL MY LEFT FOOT.

Career – Part 1

Published April 26, 2019 by helentastic67

Career

It’s such a weird word isn’t it? Today, I thought I’d cover a little of my work history, sort of.

I grew up living in the country, I didn’t grow up on a farm, I was considered a “Townie”.

By the time I was sixteen, I was a full-time student, a part time check-out chick and a “when ever babysitter” I’m not complaining. It was what it was. But I had NO SOCIAL LIFE. None, Zero.

Over Christmas, I picked up seasonal work on a blueberry farm. So, don’t talk to me about blueberries. I don’t get it. You are on your own.

I only picked when there was no work in the shed packing. Let me tell you the difference. While picking, my older sister would give a decent rendition of “I found my thrills on Blueberry Hills”. Good times. But it was hard going.

Packing, while arduous, we started at 6am and went hard until 4pm.There were no guys in the packing shed. It was considered that men distracted the women in the sorting shed. So the “no”is important? Sounds so 1950’s, or is it just me? There was the constant smell of bleach from the cleaning products. It paid better, but was stressful. The best berries went to export somewhere like Germany and at the end of the season we sorted all the berries that was deemed too small, mangled or mouldy out so, it could go to be made into pies or jam. You’re welcome.

Even when I did that job from 6am until 4pm, I would go home, shower, eat something and go to my supermarket job from 5pm to 9pm.

Good thing I was planning to be a poor art student. My two days of cherry picking marred by heatstroke and sleeping under the tree on a bull-ant nest, just because I picked the wrong side of the tree first. What? You heard. There is a right and wrong side of a tree. Yes! You pick the side first that doesn’t get the morning sun, then in the afternoon you pick the side that had the morning sun.

So, while I stayed living in the country another year after completing high school because I didn’t get into what I wanted to go on and do, I got into TAFE art course for a year. It was fairly stock standard course to go do and build on a folio if you didn’t get a course in the city.

I was still doing the full-time study, part-time work and xyz babysitter. Still no social life.

When I moved to Melbourne, it took a little while, but I was eventually introduced to really cool night clubs. Night clubs became my social life.

The first clubs I was introduced to were full on “WOG” clubs (again, don’t take offense, my father is Italian, so I can use that term) Lebanese, Turks, mention of history of guns blazing and drive by’s at the first club I went to Brunswick back in the early 90’s. Also, where I heard the fantastic piece by O’Fortuna in Apotheosis. I think I went out and bought the last twelve-inch vinyl copy to come into the country. Because it heavily sampled them from a well-known classical piece of music, it was banned.

The vibe in the clubs was electric, but then there was some really shifty stuff about wog clubs. The continuous stream of standing around the outside of the dance floor and girls dragging their boyfriends behind them, who would seem, lean in for a cheeky snog.

What! Yes! Outrage!

A guy that was with the people I was with pinched me on the backside so I turned and delivered him a slap. His sister and two friends came up to me all gangster-bitch like to take a piece of me. “I know he’s an asshole, but he’s my brother” so much for sisterhood.

The following week, a friend of his came up to me and told me the “pincher” wanted to buy me a drink, maybe he should have started with that.

I don’t know why I’m still single, but I don’t think it’s because I’m prepared to slap men if they deserve it. My ass was offended.

But that is to say, I digress.

While I studied to be a Visual Merchandiser, that being shop front window displays, shop layouts etc. I didn’t get into that, I didn’t have a folio, I couldn’t drive (to do freelancing) and I wasn’t a guy and gay. So, I couldn’t get a job with Myers.

I know, What? Those gay bitches get everything, so, I had started giving out some passes for the first club I worked for.

When I finished my course and disillusioned about what I really wanted to be doing for the rest of my life. Yeah, like that’s realistic to imagine someone of my age staying in the same job/company/industry for all of my working career.

To be continued…

Today’s Lunch – 24th April 2019

Published April 24, 2019 by helentastic67

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

First, a belated Happy Easter.

Last week I had to smash 5 days of ‘Life” into only 4 and as the weekend just gone was Easter it meant public holidays. Yes!!!! I love public holidays! Because it means long lazy weekends of afternoon naps and 3-ish meals a day, cups of tea a plenty and medicine and lots of binging TV. On the flip-side, struggling to do ‘Person’ when the following week resumes.

Monday, I actually got out on hellonwheels to meet my old neighbour Megi, her sister Lucy and their mum. We met for lunch followed by a little scooter around the neighbourhood and a cruise through the supermarket. Once home I set myself up on my balcony to do some writing. Here is my view………

Easter Sunday I had some people over from my floor of the apartment complex. In an effort to not be alone on a weekend people either go to church (hard no!) or spend with family (too busy and too far away) so I invited the people I’ve encountered on my floor. Not everyone but maybe half the apartments. Four people came, one of which was a surprise so that was nice. I had bought a dozen hot cross buns and two of my guests bought stuff so now I’ve got cinnamon donuts and mini chocolate croissants and profiteroles to give away.