Melbourne

All posts tagged Melbourne

Love or Hate, Hit Like

Published April 15, 2019 by helentastic67

Love or Hate, Hit Like

There will be some posts I write and you read when you won’t ‘Like’ at all what I have to say. You may not believe me even. You will be absolutely fair to want to HATE it.

However, you should still give me a ‘Like’ because I say it as I see it and then you can do something about what you have heard if you can and if you believe in it and think the world can be a better place for everyone.

These days I live in a rather wog area of Melbourne, they are mostly baby-boomers in age, their children having moved out, started their own families with more room in suburbs slightly further out.

On a rare occasion, there is a 50-somethiing still living with parents in this neighbourhood and it’s because on occasion the “child” is still in many ways a “child”.

It means they have intellectual challenges for those reading this post, don’t have to live with every day.

Melbourne

Published December 21, 2018 by helentastic67

Melbourne 1

Melbourne

Well, I think it’s about time I mentioned how much I love Melbourne and why. A little bit about the layout of our fair city.

I love Melbourne

I think I knew from my teenage years I would move to Melbourne. I grew up in North East of Victoria and it seemed the town (cough/ choke) they consider it a rural city, just didn’t evolve or progress. So, Melbourne here I come.

Moving to Melbourne

We always did day trips to Melbourne (3.5 hours by car) to go to Art Supply stores for my older sister, to check out the National Gallery (now known as the NGV. Because we have to ACRONYM THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYTHING, right) and to University Open Days. I got to tag along when my older sister was getting ready to go to Uni, she ended up being a poor art student in an actual rural University, country town (not in Melbourne).

National Gallery Victoria

However, I moved to Melbourne when I was nineteen, I transferred my supermarket job to the city and was a poor art student for two years.

I first lived in Brunswick in a shared household scenario. That is a harsh rude awakening to life, but you make it work. My parents paid my rent while I was studying and I paid everything else. I was a student for only two years. The course was a second choice for me and while I didn’t continue in that career, I discovered the Alternative Club Scene, which became my social life and where I discovered a different style of music culture and such.

Alternative club scene

 

Yet, to cover the club stuff, but not today. Maybe in this series, when I first moved to Melbourne, it was 1992. Rent was cheap, so cheap, only $50.00 per week (and my parents paid it) and I lived in Brunswick, which was not cool then. I lived in that area for a year or so, then relocated to South Yarra.

South Yarra

Here’s the fun part.

Melbourne breaks down like this – There is a river that goes through the centre, called the Yarra (pronounced Yarrah) don’t get excited, it’s not a river to go swimming in, unless it’s an era of concrete boots. (Mafia, crime etc) and that’s not swimming, that’s drowning.

Yarra River

Anyway, it’s considered everything North of the Yarra is North-side, South of the Yarra is the South side. Then there’s the Western suburbs, which we like to dis (disrespect) and the East, my take on the Eastern suburbs is ‘old-money’ and I don’t know anyone who can afford to live there. There are pockets all over the inner city, Sunshine, Prahran, Brunswick, Northcote (all over Melbourne) where the wog’s settled when they immigrated here, which was around 1940’s.

Western Suburbs

There is still a sense of presence in all of those areas of that generation of Europeans. I think the Western suburbs even more so and they kept the factories and car industries alive.

Wogs

Anyway, it seemed once I move to the southern side of the city, that’s where I thrived. My club career took off (if you can call it that) and that’s where I stayed.

For some years, I lived in several places a stones throw from Chapel Street, first in South Yarra, then Prahran, then in Windsor. Now back in the 90’s, Chapel Street was the place to be, designer label shops, café’s, street culture people.

Chapel St

The place I lived in South Yarra, (to this day, the cheapest rent I ever paid. $262.15 per month) there was a Porsche mechanic three doors down, so they would work late and you could hear them ‘Fanging it’ in the back streets at 3am.

But anyway, I digress.

I only recently realized I wasn’t even in Melbourne that time for ten years, I guess it felt longer because I kept myself so busy seven days and nights a week. But alas, sooner later all good things must come to an end and I was short changed by one of my club bosses and I quit and they retaliated by firing me from my bread and butter club job. (more on that topic another time) That and a crappy apartment with a terrible smell ended my first adventure in Melbourne. I moved back to the country for two whole tortuous years.

Back to the country

I went to live with my mum and my younger sister. Allow me to paint a picture. Hormonally, my mum was sliding into the Pause (Menopause) and my younger sister was at the beginning. It was like Michael Jackson’s Black and White album ear and I had to sit her down and explain Michael Jackson was really black. Can you imagine how that conversation went?

Hormonally Challenged

So, I was living way out in the country, wood fires for heat, dirt roads, didn’t drive, had to go for a twenty-minute car ride to get to town where twice a day (once at 6am so that doesn’t count) there is a V-Line bus that takes you to other towns and the train to Melbourne.

Vline

This was (I refer to it as) mosaic phase. I got active again, did some market stalls (didn’t make money/didn’t break even) and because seemingly music was still the same in my country town, I grew up in had not changed at all.

I proceeded to attempt to start an Under-Age Music Club. I registered it, I got a bit of a group together to do all the things and promoted it to the High Schools through my old contacts and network.

Underage

There was a music shop in town that had been there from when I had been a teenager and the owner would be visited by anyone returning from wherever it was they had escaped to.

I had hoped to get some space to run said club from and while I had some contacts and I made some noise. It never got up and running.

It didn’t close away an opposition music store coming to town (which made the music shop owner very happy) but didn’t change the music culture of well anything. After two years of trying to make stuff work living in the country.

Music culture

(if you don’t drive, don’t go to the pub to drink to socialize and don’t drive a ute) or work there is nothing more there for you and every few months I’d train back to Melbourne to visit all my people, go clubbing and stay each night at a different person’s house (just friends).

Run away

It was time to get back to life in Melbourne, I was effectively made to feel I’d overstayed my welcome at my mum’s and I found a way to go back to the city, which I’ve always felt was my true home.

Overstay

I rented a tiny room in Hawthorn (the east) with a male friend of the family (through my older sister) and only had a few things for a while, where I did a business course to start my own business. I got back into the club scene however, not as a job. After six months of attempting to rent on the south side and starting my own business, ‘to take over the world’ (splutter, cough) I moved to the north side.

Take over the world

I’ve been here ever since. I think my south side era is over. It’s not like Chapel Street Prahran stayed super awesome anyway.

Last time I visited that neighbourhood, I recognised a familiar face while standing waiting for some traffic lights. He must have thought I looked familiar too, although in a different way, because he asked ‘Did we have sex?’ Um, call me crazy (dare you) however I subscribe to the ‘if we have sex I would remember’ and you would remember my name.

Familiar faces

I, of course said no, but not rudely. Kept walking and about two minutes later, I remembered his name, that he worked bar on the second floor at one of the clubs I worked for and that I made a special effort when distributing Brunswick Street, Fitzroy on a Wednesday to time my run to get to the café he worked at, as his day job so he could have a coffee with me.

Remember his name

To be clear, he was mouthy to stoned to turn up to work on time, but I’m just saying my brain injury has not affected my memory.

If you have been in Melbourne long enough you will recognise the banter and throwing shade (need a different term, gentle teasing) about which side of the Yarra people chose to live on.

Melbourne Banter

I was recently on the phone to someone and I indicated to him, while I’ve moved further north (into an unnamed suburb I won’t mention) and I’m on the border of a street I always said I would not live beyond. He responded on the phone that he had told his wife he couldn’t live north of the Yarra because he had nothing to go with a bullet proof vest.

Bulletproof Vest

I laughed but hey SLAP.

In Australia, we thankfully don’t have gun violence like in America (I do have a few American regular followers) and sadly, one happened on Hoddle Street on the north side of town.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hoddle_Street_massacre

I remember when it was on the news. I was (how old was Helen?) again, I’m sure to circle back to this topic, stay tuned.

Today’s Lunch – 12th December 2018

Published December 12, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Have I told you how I do not like summer? Yeah, summer and Helen with my AVM: Not good friends. Love wearing my cruisey shorts (3/4 length pants) and t-shirts, however if I’m not wearing a black tee shirt and I’m wearing white. It’s too damn hot! Add to that Peri-menopausal hot flushes, no you can’t tell which is from what.

Summer clothes

Also, blogger friend in Florida? You know who you are. Don’t worry, pretty sure I’m not coming to visit. Too damn hot!

Florida

Tuesday, not thrilled to go to a brain injury group meeting in the city. Miss made a noise like she might vomit. “What’s that Mika, you feel sick and I should stay home and look after you?” Sadly, I had to go. Didn’t bring my migraine home until 5.30pm! Then out on hellonwheels for a 7.30pm appointment. It wasn’t far but pilled a little on Oxy made my waxing a little easier to take. Really looking forward to chiropractor already even though it’s another hot one today.

Leg waxing

Have I mentioned 25degrees is my limit? I really don’t get it and today is, oh wait. It’s only 32 but I’m wearing my only white T-shirt already.

Summer

Today’s offering is a quinoa and chicken salad, with my standard medicine.

Chicken Quinoa SaladLatte

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just a thought. If anyone is still reading? Do people actually read this post or do you just like it as goody/coffee porn? (You know, pictures of good food and/or coffee?) Trying. not to feel needy, just working out if anyone’s going to be open to learning anything I have to say on a Wednesday? Or is it just the food porn!

Food Porn

Hit me with a Like and why not comment?

Like and comment

Cheers,
H

Good Deeds

Published November 16, 2018 by helentastic67

Good Deed

Good Deeds

I did a good deed today and I felt good about it. That’s not why I did it. But, it’s all the little good things in life and the everyday that helps the upside of life with depression. We always need to remember or be reminded to really enjoy the good moments.

I did a good deed

So, my good deed, I hear you ask?

I went into the city today, ironically, I was going to the ‘late’ AGM of the Self Advocacy group I am somewhat part of. Will have a migraine by the end of the day worse than I have at the start of the day, but I digress.

AGM

I cut through Degraves Street to Flinders Lane and arrived early at my destination. When I returned later only one of the two homeless guys remained. I had returned to Degraves Street to get some lunch, knowing I needed ‘something’ but not wanting anything huge.

Degraves St Melbourne

I bought a toasted ham, cheese and tomato sandwich and decided to give half to the homeless guy with his dog. I briefly considered asking him if he was a vegetarian or would be ok to eat ham?

Homeless guy and dog 1

There is a story Debra Lee Furness told on a TV interview once about giving a homeless guy in New York a BBQ chicken once, that she gave it to him, he told her he was vegetarian. (Apparently being homeless doesn’t change that) Debra Lee Furness (hey, she married Hugh Jackman) stated the BBQ chook had been organic and very expensive.

Deborra Lee Furness

Me on the other hand, my generosity more in line with my financial standing. At the café, I put in my order and asked if they could cut it into quarters and wrap half in a bag and the other half in another bag. They looked at my strangely.

I explained my intention and the wait staff told me it depended how busy the cook was. But luckily, he made it happen. I received my keep cup (of my medicine) and the two bags (half put in my bag) and hobbled over to the man with his dog. There was a small plastic container on the ground of water for the dog. I asked him if I could give him the sandwich. I told him it had ham, cheese and tomato in it and that I had been concerned he might not eat meat.

Toasted HCT

He didn’t eat tomato, but he said he was happy to pick it out.

I had to smile.

The dog of course then started to bark. I don’t know who was going to get to eat the sandwich and it doesn’t matter.

Homeless guy and dog

But, sometimes a good deed, a kind word can mean as much to the giver as the receiver and there is always someone with less than we have, yet more problems.

Good Deed Kind Words

Today’s Lunch – 14th November 2018

Published November 14, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

First, I want to mention with great sadness while America has mass shootings and it’s really awful, Melbourne last Friday had an incident of our own. When some ass-hat who decided because they couldn’t deal with, whatever issues they couldn’t deal with, to take it out on others and a well loved and respected Melbourne icon is now without a hero and beloved kind soul.

https://junkee.com/bourke-street-attack-sisto-malaspina/181642

Pellegrini’s is a place I used to go for great coffee in the top of the city back in the 90’s after dinner and before clubbing and could always be relied on for great coffee to help get me through. My uncle when in town from Queensland, I know would go there. I will go once again. Sit at the counter to enjoy my medicine.

Pellegrinis

Now, on a lighter note. I had a dinner party on Saturday night and number 1 reasons why I shouldn’t go on Instagram?

Lasagne

Food arrives and forget to take a photo before eating/serving dinner, in all fairness, my guests arrived in time to take my lasagne from the oven. I usually take it out after I’ve let the top brown I put on the foil and after another hour or so it’s a safety hazard for me to take it out one-handed. So, timing is of the essence. Threw together a salad. (Not pictured) and my guests provided a baked cheesecake. Which was delicious! It is just so rare to have company at home and it’s even better to be able to be relaxed. Better than going out.

Dinner Party

Crazy day Monday, with my NDIS review, mum was here over night and when she is here, we smash out ‘all the things that don’t get done unless she is here’. You picture those crazy crime scene maps with the red string?

Crime Scene

That’s what we did to Melbourne in my mums little racing car. Think mum was a rally car driver in a previous life. Her, Mazda and Google Helen (I’ve recently been called) and a Sally the GPS (after Sally the over-locker!) totally writing that post later! We even got to the Swedish warehouse.

After exactly a year of apartment living, I have worked out the best place to hang out to ‘accidentally’ run into my neighbours. While hanging out in B1 (the basement level where my scooter shed resides) while mum went to get the racing car, my neighbours came down for whatever reasons, one I even got to give him the light globe I had bought for him when I got some for myself, the other neighbour who was heading off for work. She is a night shift nurse and some grumpy guy who parks next to my shed. He was really friendly, (note sarcasm)

Basement

Now back to normal programming, have slotted back into normal Wednesday programming with the assistance of a carer, I’m getting to my favourite cafe in Clifton Hill, then my standard punchy/stabby day.

Accupuncture

Today’s offering, a chicken and turmeric salad and my medicine.

ChickenLatte

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cheers,
H

 

Rehab – Part 1

Published October 19, 2018 by helentastic67

Rehab Part 1

Rehab –  Part 1

Ok, not the NA/AA type. But the physio and OT type.

Being part of a Brain Injury community in Melbourne, like anywhere I imagine, I’ve met kids of people with all kinds of brain injuries. I’ve also heard many different stories of where people were and what they could or couldn’t do when they woke up.

There’s the guy who woke from a coma to a song on the radio, “Stairway to Heaven”

WT Hell?

Great song however, inappropriate.

Don’t know how long he was in this coma; however, he is a bit of the num nut. Likely never be independent despite his obvious ability to walk and talk. His thought process and thinking has obviously been affected.

Num nut

Another woke in rehab, unable to walk or talk. This person can do both now however, both are significantly compromised.

I was really lucky, because of the nature of my AVM and course of treatment, everything that happened to me, I had a say in and everything that happened as far as “fall-out” I was completely conscious for and aware of.

There was that moment when my boyfriend came through the lounge room and saw me in only my nightie, leaning down to do something on my laptop on the coffee table and he mentioned my left calf was (well, not there) compared to my right calf.

Laptop

I had been a little oblivious to that and I imagine I had been unable to rely on that leg for strength or stability. But, I have been lucky not to wake in a hospital bed somewhere unable to comprehend what exactly happened.

Waking in hospital

Now, I’m not saying my rehab has been all fun and games. I did struggle because my left arm worked some days and not others for a little while.

I recall days I struggle to do up my shoe laces an another I cried in frustration on trying to put on a bra. I choose not to leave the house without both and when I actually went to see my main specialist about six months after my treatment, he noticed my left arm, I was nursing on my left thigh. He noticed straight away and asked how long it had been like that? I didn’t know, it had come and gone so even my mum who was sitting beside me couldn’t answer. That day he referred me to physio.

Bra

I did some weekly physio and OT appointments and I was set up with exercises to continue at home. I luckily didn’t lose any of that. I do recall a question being asked of me “How do you manage with opening cans?” I told them I managed fine, because at the time I had a boyfriend. After he left I still managed fine.

Physio

Because I’d put the can opener on the tin, take it off, turn the tin a little and put it back on again. And repeat, until I’d opened the damn tin.

Looking back, how did they not realize this is how I would develop Carpel Tunnel?

My people to arrange this were very lax/lazy because funding requires a lot of paperwork and they know the NDIS was coming (one day), so they never bothered to help me get funding. I got my disc bulge and Carpel Tunnel.

Entering my brief time as an inpatient in rehab, I was an outpatient meaning I would go once a week across town to Caulfield. At the time I lived in Clifton Hill, where I can every Wednesday and I was referred to Caulfield, as it was in the “catchment” of my hospital. (The Alfred Hospital)

Notwithstanding, my mum would drive three and half hours to Melbourne, arriving just in time to scoop me up and get us both to Caulfield.

Long drive

Have I mentioned how much I love my mum?

I digress, where was I?

But I think those early days of physio/OT for me were maybe too soon, or something, not sure. But I struggled with the “make your arm loooong” In an Irish accent to grab that thing. But eventually after about nine years, my walking and hyperextension was being addressed and it was on my side of town. Through a different hospital.

Over the last fifteen years, I think I’ve been to most (not all), but most of the public hospitals for one thing or another.

Hospital visit

Then I found myself at a rehab hospital for two whole weeks as an inpatient.

I’m just saying.

I do not cope well in hospitals where I’m not allowed to go home and seriously I had appointments I maintained out, several days each week and had visitors.

I would often return from my standard weekly appointments with my keep cup in hand and as the lift door opened to the nurse’s station, they would all look up at me. They had insisted with Botox in my calf and a plaster cast on my let.

Calf muscles

Yes, that’s right. Botox in my calf and a cast. They were afraid I would fall over at home. Well, and they didn’t want me getting the cast wet and after two weeks (two different casts) I argued I was getting the cast wet in hospital with the help of four nurses.

So what difference would it make if I was home?

Next

Today’s Lunch – 10th October 2018

Published October 10, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

People often think people with disabilities don’t have a sense of humour, they would be wrong. Made the best disability joke yesterday and only two people were there to witness it. I was at Ross House where the self-advocacy group, I go to is located. All the resident organisations are not for profit (NGO’s) The lift is old and small and slow, there are stairs. I’ve never used them. There are four floors and with my young carer who normally escorts me shopping and cooking on Fridays in the lift and a complete stranger, the lift seemed to stop every floor on the way down yet there was no one there to get on the lift. I muttered to my carer as to why the lift kept stopping without anyone joining us? “Someone probably pressed the button and they got sick of waiting and took the stairs but, I can guarantee you it’s not someone in a wheelchair!” Yeah, I went there.

Disability humour

Wednesday has started a bit differently. No water in the whole apartment complex until after 1pm so lunch will be after my only appointment and I think it’s about time I put a myth to rest, I wrote in an earlier post how I dislike the “Like”. It may have been taken out of context. I love the “Like” I have only two ways to tell if people read or like my posts. I know it sounds needy, however, hit me with a “Like and comment” I need to be validated too. Oh, yeah! I just hit 200 followers. I know, it’s not that many to some of you. I still get excited by every single one. I go check out what you have to write about and hit you up with a “Like” so you know I dropped by. If you write about something I’m interested in or feel I can support you I will follow you also.

Like

Eventually I got out on Hellonwheels to get to my only appointment, which was to get stabbed, that being acupuncture. In true Melbourne style it’s spring. So, t-shirt weather if you are lucky to be in the sun but not catching the wind. I couldn’t wait to get home to put on some warmer clothes. I stopped to collect a little cannoli and a French donut (it’s got custard in it) and stop at the post office.

French donut

No photos today.  But I can show you some cute toys I bought Mika last Friday. You have already shown more interest in her new toys by reading this. Except, well I think I don’t need to describe what obviously happened here.

Mika toys

Need more coffee, much more coffee! Medicine!

Coffee

 

Today’s Lunch – 25th July 2018

Published July 25, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Well, my punchy-stab you day, with my lunch at my favourite cafe where I add the final touches to this post has just become a lunch and stabby day and my punchy part of the day has had to find somewhere else to fit into my busy week.

Stabby

My normal Wednesday would centre around my home tram line and my fantastic young John, my taxi driver and with a bit of walking in between it all falls into place without too much stress, expense or loss of my independence or my ability to work flexibly to solve getting where I needed to be when I had to be there.

Walking

I know I hinted needing to stretch my brain muscle again a few weeks ago and this is why. My punchy appointment, my chiropractor has relocated her practice to a slightly less convenient location. A suburb slightly adjacent to my tram line. I am planning to move my chiropractor to Friday’s I think, so I have my carer to drive me and I will have more flexibility on Wednesday’s, but today Young John dropped me to get punched (not advocating for any form of violence), I took a little walk to the train close by and caught a train only a few stops back to Clifton Hill toward the city so I could still get lunch out of the way and tram back towards home for some torture of another kind. No stabby today.

Brain muscle

Side-bar, was in the city yesterday down at the Docklands at an event, to be continued, however, Melbourne logistically is built on a port. Did I mention it’s winter right now? Let me print a picture just quickly in just a few words with pictures. Arctic winds off the bay! I don’t know who picked this location but they are not my favourite, still here are some pictures before I was nearly blown over!

Docklands 1

Docklands 2Docklands 3Docklands 4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I showed these pictures to my carer today who stated, Oh I love black and white. It looks great! (Eye roll) That’s not black and white, that was the weather. Oh, how she laughed so hard she cried! I love my carers!

Oh, yes. Where was I?

Today’s lunch, I rang earlier to ask something to be set aside. What can I say? There are perks for consistency. I’ve only been going there for 10 years. An Arancini Bolognaise with side salad with my standard medicine and a coffee Mignon because I felt like it. And like there isn’t enough to see today?

Arancini

Latte

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coffee mignon

 

Mika 1

Mika 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m hoping this beautiful fluffy thing becomes mine! Or me hers? Soooooo smoochie!

Cheers,
H

Great Day

Work for the Dole – Part 2

Published July 20, 2018 by helentastic67

Work for the Dole Part 2

Work for the Dole – Part 2

When I worked in Work for the Dole, also nicknamed by many as Work for the Coffee Scroll (amongst others) and when I would deal with clients, I often had to talk fast to deliver information, ask questions, head off their “Oh poor me” “reactionary responses.”

Oh Poor Me

The method to which I would do HR (Human Resources) for example went like this;

“What kind of work have you done previously? Study, training?”

“What kind of work do you want to do in the future?”

Now, I hit them quickly with these questions because in my area, the north of Melbourne at the time (2003-2005) many of my clients were lucky to have finished Year 12, which is the end of High School.

Finish school

I don’t know about everywhere else in the world or the history in the world but completing Year 12 alone doesn’t set anybody up for much in life.

The answers I would often be given was that they had experience as a gardener (lawn mowing, etc) but they didn’t want to do anymore gardening as they complained of a bad back and they had no preference what kind of work they wanted to do.

Gardening

Now, I was good at my job (yes, I’m bragging) but I couldn’t pluck a job or career out of nothing. They needed to give me something and I can guarantee “those clients” were still doing gardening and getting paid cash. Which they were not paying tax or declaring to Centrelink, which would have in time meant they wouldn’t be required to do Woke for the Dole.

Working for cash

So, on this particular day, this client was very slow in answering and no matter the questions I asked, he couldn’t seem to get his head around what I want of him. I worked it out that he needed me to speak slower and ask one question at a time. It was a very slow and painful process, probably more for him than me, as it turns out. He spoke very slowly and haltering.

Speak slower

I later debriefed Frank that the client might have had a car accident or fried his brain on drugs. I knew neither at the time nor did I know much of anything to do with ABI/TBI/etc.

ABI TBI

What I was able to work out from his answers, was he had experience in gardening, but wanted to be a mechanic. He lived miles from anywhere but would ride his bike to any work I found for him. (He also didn’t want to do gardening) but I had to be creative as there were little if any Not for Profit’s in the area so much was his isolation to anything really. Any wonder he couldn’t find work.

Mechanic

So, I got on the phone and asked questions of people, made some new friends and found my young client a placement. Winning! Again, keep in mind, limited options.

I found him a little placement doing some gardening around a monument on the edge of the road. An older gentleman was to keep an eye on him. He wasn’t to baby sit him but monitor him several times over the two days (15 hours) per week and make sure he knocked off each day at an appropriate time.

Gardening Monument

It was probably an easy task for him and rather quiet and lonely, but I also think it was what he needed at the time, knowing what I know now.

Frank told me later, not having done the interview with the client but being told by the person who did that, he had huge scars on his skull and I imagine he probably shouldn’t have been required to do anymore than take time out and “recover”. But anyway, that did not happen.

Recovery time

One day, some time later, I was in the outer office with the two other ladies that worked there, this particular day, Frank was working from his office. He called out

“Hey Helen?”

“Yes Frank?”

“I love you”

I love you

Thinking What? “Sexual harassment in the work place? What is this?”

Now, to say all those things, would be an injustice. Frank is a nice, married man, Italian Catholic man with two young children (at the time) and I knew he wasn’t creepy. So, I call back,

“I love you too Frank”

I looked around at the two other women and they gave nothing away and I got up and stuck my head around the door into his office. It would seem that client I had worked really hard to get him a placement, they had helped the guy out and helped him get an apprenticeship as a mechanic.

Apprentice mechanic

Now, clients would come and go.

Today’s Lunch – 4th July 2018

Published July 4, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch 1

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Now, to share. Yesterday I had a little adventure out on Hellonwheels in my local neighbourhood. It’s already a rarity at this time of the year as it’s winter here in Melbourne. We are due a dry winter which sounds strange, but to make up for it, it will be bitterly cold. But I had a parcel to collect from the post office and I couldn’t carry it. So Hellonwheels it was, I layered up and off I went!

Hellonwheels accident 1

I didn’t get far when I literally ran into a woman. Now, the only appropriate response is to be genuine when asking how they are. Just saying. Sell it! Make it sound real! She said in a child-like voice that it had really hurt! I bet it had. It’s what you get when you stop walking in the middle of the footpath without having any awareness of who or what is around you. I had had my head turned slightly too far to my right so she had been in my blind spot on my left, but no I did not tell her that. It is my least favourite thing yet to run into someone on my scooter even if they deserved it.
I made the effort to scooter to one of the food truck locations, I haven’t been to any of them however this mural…………..
Chuck Norris

My carer tells me there is a neat ‘hack’ online or was where you would google his name to be given a message that “you don’t find Chuck Norris. Chuck Norris finds you!” This is why it’s good to have some ‘younger fear’ people around. This carer keeps getting mistaken as my child lately. She’s 24, she teases me that I’m really old. Like 60. Um? I’m 45 and 60 isn’t old but I feel old already!

Teasing

On my scooter ride home, I dropped in on Wilbur but left it too late to snap a photo and here are some cool snaps I took on my way home. My council district is very good to encourage and commission artists to do murals. It keeps tagging and graffiti to a minimum.

Street Art 1Street Art 2Street Art 3Street Art 4Street Art 5Street Art 6Street Art 7Street Art 8

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And despite only being out for 2 hours on my scooter in winter, my face and ears and my left hand were freezing, although my hand is always freezing, still counts. Don’t know if anyone else has this problem however coffee doesn’t help keep me awake! Anyone? Sometimes coffee and a kip? Best sleep ever. Just saying I think it’s my Italian blood. There was that time once working in clubs I had two coffees overnight and when I was in bed trying to sleep hours later my heart was racing. Also, didn’t help I had to get up early and get to the other side of town for my friend’s brothers 21st by midday. Seriously, those were the days. The music at that party was louder than the clubs I worked at and when I inquired the source of the music since it wasn’t coming from inside the house I was informed it was coming from the mum’s car! Outside, in the driveway with the boot up, with all the flashing lights of any 80’s disco. God help us all! I live on that side of town now, where were we?

80s disco

After that little trip down memory lane and to the point of today’s post?

Today’s offering, it’s a return to the Arancini. A pumpkin and spinach with the side-salad. Today’s medicine is complimentary, with a little pink mignon.

Arancini
Latte 1Mignon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I don’t have acupuncture today, I might return for the carrot cake I didn’t have last week since it so disappointed Oscar a dandelion another of my followers.

Carrot Cake