A Rare Sunday

Published March 6, 2023 by helentastic67

A Rare Sunday

Only yesterday, Saturday I was included in an invite for a lunch gathering with my lovely Young John. The last year or so I haven’t seen much of him and for years he was like the only person I reached out to every week, he’s a busy man and has made time for own health in recent years.

If you are not sure or a new follower Young John is my lovely Greek taxi driver who has been driving taxis for forty plus years and was screwed over by the Uber/taxi license debacle of years past. He started driving me to rehab/physio appointments around fifteen years ago. Car-pooling myself and others generally older than me to all kinds of appointments. Young John is someone who in a day drives all over Melbourne scooping up regular people he has been driving for a lifetime and I’ve been lucky to have met him when I have. He always squeezes me into his schedule when he can.

Honestly, Young Betty was up from 6am (sleep in for her) but cooking like only a Yia-Yia or Nonna can. Do. When anyone else would do a lasagna or meat and salad for a BBQ or some roasted vegetables on the site. A Ya-Ya does it all.

I learnt years ago if you finish your plate as my upbringing taught me a Nonna will assume you loved it and are still hungry. Once had my aunt (the Italian Nonna) give me three serves of her food. Delicious that it was, the third time I didn’t eat it all as it was the only way for her to know I really couldn’t eat anymore.

Young Betty worked her way around the table deriving us and she passed behind my chair I told her I was not going to start until she sat and stayed down. Also, a sign of respect from my white Aussie upbringing, but often frowned upon by the European elders.

Finished with cuppa chino and some cake. I helped clear the table and shared the very amusing anecdote about packing dishes styles someone shared with me this week.

Grief and Humour – Part 2

Published February 27, 2023 by helentastic67

Grief and Humour – Part 2

So, while dealing with this whole grief thing I’m reminded of times I’ve seen women in the supermarket, they stop and seem to pause for a moment and a hand goes up to their heart and for a brief moment it looks like they just received some devastating news. I have been moved to ask if they are alright? And they pause and then they seem OK again and they reply as much and the day goes on.

Last Saturday I was attempting to get a loaf of rye bread carefully transported via a friend across town, delivered on the Friday, into my fridge freezer. My carer had suggested she could do this. But my first world problem in recent years has been a problem getting things into my fridge freezer.

Full disclosure, I also have a bar fridge size freezer and that’s full too. My carer has recently suggested I could live out of my freezers for six weeks without going shopping, but I’d eat a lot of chilli con carne, ice cream and stews, what a way to go.

So, there I am, fridge-freezer door open. My carer waits behind the door in the kitchen as I shuffled, to get the portioned bread into every nook and cranny, I talked as I worked telling her amusing little tidbits from my day, life, anecdotes of my life with my dad. Don’t recall now, even what I was telling her about, but every few sentences I paused, couldn’t speak. Wanted to burst into tears, but needed more importantly to finish my witty stories. I kept it together. My carer had told me I didn’t need to keep telling her whatever it had been I was telling her, but I finished both my stories and the task of getting all the bread in the freezer for safe keeping. Before I successfully closed the freezer door, I announced to my carer a little sadly. “I’m not leaving the door open because I don’t want you to see me cry” as I closed the door.

I just want to point out this is a hard job being ONE-HANDED! Just try it sometime. I offered my carer to open the door again and bathe in the brilliance that I had managed to achieve and she stated if she opened it again everything would fall out. I told her it would then be her job to get it all back in before she left.

So, I opened the door to show off my brilliant Jenga technique, from behind me the woman FUCKING SNEEZED.

And twos things fell out and we laughed.

You still get to laugh sometimes…..it’s just sweeter.

What’s Wrong with this Picture?

Published February 20, 2023 by helentastic67

What’s Wrong with this Picture?

Recently I was zipping round the local supermarket on HellOnWheels and doing a bit of Hunter/Gathering. I came across this.

A few other shoppers came over to enquire and I pointed to the fridge stating its good ice cream and what was annoying about it.

Once home, minus ice cream, I sent the photo to a few friends proposing the question, “What’s wrong with this picture?” A carer/friend replied instantly. “No room in freezer?”

Understanding

Published February 13, 2023 by helentastic67

Understanding

Some people might not understand why I’ve been sharing all the stuff about my father’s recent passing and partly, because it’s happening and it’s something we all go through, the passing of a loved one, family, parent, friend, whoever.

However, I’m also dealing with that on top of already dealing with my brain injury. Sometimes, people dealing or not dealing with how they are coping or not coping, I’m doing that too. On top of already dealing with my disability.

It might be 15 years since my disability happened but new things on top of that is like the first day of having my disability all over again. The disability stuff does NOT GO AWAY or TAKE a BREAK! Even something new comes along.

It is ON TOP OF…

Stuff to Avoid, While Grieving Dad

Published February 5, 2023 by helentastic67

Stuff to Avoid While Grieving Dad

So, try to get the humour in this post! Just try, yeah.

Cannot watch shows where happy couples are having tender moments with their newborn babies! WTF!

Can’t watch scenes of women being walked down the aisle. Who’s going to walk me down the aisle now? What? It might still happen.

Can’t even type these words, so it would appear! Fuck! Sad now!

What Kind of Woman, Human, Feminist I Choose To Be

Published January 30, 2023 by helentastic67

What Kind of Woman, Human, Feminist I Choose to be

I’ve been contemplating much in recent years, the type of woman I want to be. I don’t think twice when it comes to who I support or don’t offer my support to when someone is in need. I’ll even offer a kind pat or words to a friend that I know didn’t use my advice the last time we discussed the issues they are still having or have again, because it’s obvious they didn’t heed my advice the last time. I get they weren’t ready or were not ready.

A woman will also get a pat or empathy and compassion despite stabbing me in the back in recent times. But sometimes, it’s easy to give a girl a quick piece of advice that will just make life so easy and I feel it helps the Universe of women, even if it’s just once. Last Friday, my carer and I visited a public toilet in a shopping complex I frequent. The toilets are my last option as they are in a horrific state as you will learn.

My carer had used a toilet after me and as she washed her hands another woman came in. I put my walking stick behind me towards the now open door and told her, “You want that one!” Then my carer and I sang its many attributes. “It’s got a toilet seat, a lock that’s works, a hook on the back of the door, toilet paper!”

She had already gone into the cubicle we had recommended. And we finished with “And it flushes!” I sang out a “Your Welcome!” As we left.

Ladies! We all know what this is like, so I choose to be part of the solution not part of the problem. You can also contemplate the kind of women you want to be?

Hope you appreciate a break from the misery?

Cheers,
H

Finding Happy Memories

Published January 23, 2023 by helentastic67

Finding Happy Memories

The younger generation miss out on a lot, particularly when it comes to inappropriate jokes, political correctness aside, and the older generation will love this and maybe remember them, because I’ve not had kids and because I feel like there’s a bit of a gap between the young kids today. I’ve not had kids to pass on some of the on the border of inappropriate jokes, see if you can cope with these trying to find something upbeat, OK it was a series of fat and skinny jokes and I could think of only one.

I shared this with someone today. Here we go fat and skinny had a bath fat pulled the plug glug, glug, glug!

Simple but elegant, in its simplicity. Shared it with a friend who didn’t know that one but had another in the Fat and Skinny collection.

Fat and skinny went to bed, Fat rolled over skinny was dead, sometimes simple things are quite witty are so good. Oh yeah, tell me what you think.

Remember I’m trying to find some happy memories from my youth to find a way through my grief.

Humour and Grief

Published January 15, 2023 by helentastic67

Humour and Grief

I know my posts were more on the miserable side since my father’s passing last October. Can’t even consider it on the dark side, it was very dark times. But, despite all of this I’ll share with you a few of the more humorous moments I shared with family and friends. My father being only in his mid-70’s had spent a great deal of time alone in more recent years, pre-the Covid-19 even.

He kept himself busy with jigsaw puzzles, something we used to do when we were kids over the summer. Trying to sneak out the corner piece when it was close to finished so we could come in and help put in the last piece.

My father retired early, much to his annoyance because, before he turned sixty, he was diagnosed with bowel cancer, followed by his consistent, bladder cancer. (Similar part of the body!) he did chemo for both. He managed to keep his hair. Both times. Not his beard but his hair on his head, bit of a Legend.

Anyway, I digress, many jigsaw puzzles and more than enough cactuses. What’s the plural here? Just asked google. I’ll let you also.

Alas, his fight was over, sad. The next struggle has been where should the jigsaws and dry, sharp, prickly, spider web covered plants go? Yeah, I had told my father in recent years his life should all be about standing outside holding a garden hose, little effort. He couldn’t.

At the funeral, jigsaws were on offer to anyone to help themselves. I told a few, “If you don’t take one with you, I’m sending five to your home!” Mildly successful. Still some to rehome.

The cacti? My dad’s two brothers visited and we beckoned them over to about five pots busting with cacti and pups ready to be re-potted.

My two uncles, no idea what’s was about to take place, like lambs to the slaughter. “Dad wanted you to each have a plant. It was in his will!” And their children, now adults, the joy on my most tender-hearted uncle’s face “Really?”

Had to be honest, no. But he would be very happy if you took some. When they’re over Christmas, many of the plants had flowers. I like to imagine dad was smiling down on us.

Being One-Handed

Published January 9, 2023 by helentastic67

Being One Handed

I must confess, I sometimes really love it when people take a moment to realise, I’m ONE-HANDED. Over Christmas I was at a small family gathering, which is to say, they have not spent much time around me since my disability/or disabilities.

We were doing a BBQ dinner and cutlery was scares. I confess, the knife is lost on me these days, I asked my cousin to my left to hold the skewer while I used my fork to pull the meat off the skewer. I tried, after a moment, she offered to do both. On my left, my younger sister reached over with her knife and fork to cut up a snag on my plate.

SNAG! Not just a Sensitive New Age GUY! But another name for a sausage.

A great Aussie line is “a BBQ isn’t a BBQ without a sausage!” and when my cousin came back sit down, cutlery was in very short supply. I offered my knife, still clean and untouched. I had to insist, holding my fork in my right hand and suggesting she had a few seconds to work out as to why I didn’t need the knife.

I explained who had helped me and how. When they got it, they got it pretty quickly and I gave them a smile as if to express, ‘It is what it is’. What can I do? Which made it ok that they hadn’t realised these are the simple things.

It has been strange spending time with family who in the last fifteen years haven’t been around me to know all the day to day things about my disabilities.

I know, despite the multi-layered name of my blog I haven’t covered it much. Mostly because, I’m one-handed and thankfully naturally right-handed, so I’ve just gotten on with stuff.

Often, even immediate family I need to remind them of things I just don’t do and this makes me pretty fucking grumpy.

Who thought I’d wrap this blog post up without uttering a swear word?
Not I!

Here’s to 2023

Published January 2, 2023 by helentastic67

Here’s to 2023

Write a blog post mentioning the words “Slut & Player” on your own blog and get censored from an NGO you have been volunteering at for over 10 years. Wonder what 2023 will bring? Ah, never mind! Felt like 2022 kicked me in the face.