Slap of Wisdom

Published February 9, 2026 by helentastic67

Slap of Wisdom

If you had any superpower, what would it be?

I always wanted mine to be the slap of wisdom, I go to stupid people – slap them (think DiNozzo from NCIS, the character played by Michael Weatherly) and instantly “oh yeah I get it now” I naturally think my superpower is bluntness.

I got on a tram today and asked a woman to give me her seat. I’m always careful as you can’t always tell if they have a disability. The woman instantly misunderstood and presumed it as her job to swiftly direct me to another seat down the tram. While the seat she was diverting me to wasn’t far but faced the wrong way. I would have had motion sickness in minutes. I also would have struggled to getup, stay up and negotiate my way back to a door when it was time to get off. All the while – A) not having my bag possibly fall of my shoulder creating a further trip hazard, B) not falling over and breaking every bone in my body. Luckily a woman that got on in front of me politely told the women she could go to that seat (not me). And then she sat next to me (Also, taking up an accessible seat) to support me where she felt the need to explain why that woman should not ever have been sitting there. I shrugged, told her I agree and let it go, because this is what it’s like every day advocacy it never ends.

SHOES

Went to see a shoe guy in the city today. I was already in the city and had to go from there to another area that required my ability to navigate around the city. I have not frequently visited since 1992 to 1993 (not kidding) and I knew I could walk but be hot and knackered by the time I got there, or I could navigate to a short tram ride before walking and maybe get there late. In the end, I took a tram two stops, then walked two blocks. I wasn’t 100%, certain exactly where he was since he was set up on the ground floor of a big car park. Shoe fetish.

Minestrone

Published July 11, 2022 by helentastic67

Minestrone

So, let me tell the older generation what you’re doing wrong in life. No, hanging in there with how I spent four or five days with my father over Christmas at the end of 2020. (I’ll get to the younger generation soon enough, never fear!)

It was the abomination year that wasn’t! Damn you Covid!

I went to the supermarket with him and he, so help me God, told me every recipe for all the things he buys and makes. Which, Lord love him, every recipe was a variation of minestrone.

I made him my version of a minestrone which has added ingredients over the years including Lamb shanks because my last boyfriend needed more meat in his “soups” how dare he.

These days, I make my minestrone in my larger slow cooker on the bench so it doesn’t stick to the bottom, and the yield is usually 7-9 bottles.

In between lockdowns in 2021, I even managed to Mule more minestrone to my dad via a friend, because logistics and “Muleing” things have become my superpower.

To be continued………….to be sure.

Tears

Published April 22, 2019 by helentastic67

Tears

There are sometimes these days when I have a superpower, I never knew I had. I can make my carers cry. What? I know, it’s not on purpose.

It’s often the best conversations with my carers about all things ‘Helen’ (for want of a better term) the things that have moulded me and made me the person I am today.

This particular day, I told my carer about what it was like in the early 80’s in my family after the death of my fifteen-month-old sister.

She had been born on my eighth birthday and for fifteen months I helped bath her, change nappies, do “mum stuff” and we had one birthday together where we had an Ice Cream cake and we were both sick. We have a photo to commemorate the day. Very understated and in the last month of her life, she was taken to the local hospital in the country town where I grew up. The doctors, I believe misdiagnosed her, but by this stage she had already likely had a stroke. She was flown to Melbourne and within a (hear me flown to Melbourne.) month she was gone. My parents had to make the decision to turn off her life support.

I recall a family visiting us and the father distinctly placed a dining chair in a location, so he could sit with his back to a photo of Linda (that was her name) so he couldn’t see it.

There is an assumption when a child dies, that you should rid your home of all the photos and things that remind you of them, almost as if they had never existed, which seems wrong.

To be clear Linda died from a huge tumor.

After a while, because family and friends just didn’t know how to help or were just too sad, they just decided to stay away.

From nine years old, for a good few years, life was really lonely. I then told my carer a story of a friend of mine in the ABI community who passed away about six years ago.

I had to stop going to the place I would see him, because when my taxi arrived, I would be crying silent tears and the poor driver would not know what to do (poor bastard). I had to stop going, but whenever I return for a rare one off gathering, I sat somewhere I cannot dart my eyes towards the picture of him. I used to get through our gatherings always casting a look in his direction and we seemed communicate so much with our eyes. Anyway, more of him another day as I can feel the tears.