Memories: 10 August 2025

10 August 2025

6:19 am I just woke up from a very intense dream about Linda Moulton Howe, the ufologist. She was having some kind of heart attack with lots of heart palpitations along with hallucinations, both auditory and visual. I rang 911 and was trying to explain her symptoms but they just kept treating me as if I were crazy. It was very upsetting as I feared she might die while I was getting her help. In real life I hope she is okay as she is in her early 80s.

I also dreamed prior to that very stressful one, that I was cutting rocks out of a chasm beside a river that had opal seams in them. I was happily chipping away at the rock and showing other people the beautiful boulder opal colourations and getting very excited.

Then the dream took me back to a hotel room and my mother was there. I showed her what I had collected that day and she said it was nothing. She had a supplier and showed me her ready made faceted stones. I asked if she would tell me who the supplier was, so I could get my stones cut but she was not forthcoming and acted weird and condescending.

So I go back to the river and some man joins in with me, also collecting opal specimens. We worked happily together without any malice or competitiveness.

Then the dream shifted to a huge tsunami or flood which we had to climb to higher ground to escape the waters. The town nearby which had many beautiful luxury homes was inundated with water and many people drowned, including livestock. But my miner friend had grabbed my arm and pulled me to higher ground and to relative safety.

The houses were mostly white and the tsunami swirling around them was almost beautiful, like giant eddying whirlpools, cleansing everything in its wake. Except for the loss of life, it was amazing to witness. I felt grateful that I had been kind to the stranger, the fellow miner as he had literally saved me. Not being greedy or selfish or competitive had yielded far greater rewards than better opals or more “success”.

No greater satisfaction than saving another person’s life.

I am not sure why I then went on to dream of my mother competing with the gemstones or with the third dream of Linda Moulton Howe having either a psychotic break or a heart attack. My mind defragments in my dream states.

I woke up, thought “what the fuck? I hope she is okay”. My lungs are still battling. Coughing hard this morning.

Another day in paradise. No drowning in tsunamis or famous older women having heart attacks. I hope to catch up with Jarrod later. We are going to IKEA. So that is something lovely to look forward to. I haven’t been out of this house in two weeks. I hope it’s not too much strain on my lungs to walk around that big store.

The sun is just starting to warm up my neighbours’ ugly façade with a warm yellow light. The sun does not participate in the Soylent Green/post-covidian madness of ugly colour schemes. Thank the gods for that!

I love that the tree in front of their house is immersed in golden light. Like a warm beacon, telling me “Don’t worry Mama T, we trees still Know how to live ebulliently!” All good…all very good. Someone look after Linda Moulton Howe. Hell, someone look after me! 🙂

…

Today is Hilda Arons’ secular yahrzeit. She died 37 years ago. Just 9 days after we migrated to Brisbane.

I hope she is doing well in heaven or whatever dimension her Neshamah flew to. She deserved better. She truly did. All her kids only cared about her money. Greedy corrupt narcissistic bastards. She knew I knew. But I was unable to do anything to change that. I had to escape “them” also.

It’s a terrible thing for a woman, a mother to know she is not valued, cared for or protected as a human being. That her only value is her bank balance or her jewellery. That all her struggles were wasted on other people’s greed and dissolute hate.

A terrible terrible thing….

But life goes on…we stumble and fall but we get up again. We find our way. We sometimes even mysteriously find Love again. It ain’t over until it’s over. She was a good mother in law to me. She wanted me to be happy. To be free. She tried to “mother” me. She needed one person to need her. Just one. She was generous. Then complained that her son was constantly demanding money from her and I was embarrassed and ashamed as I did not know that.

Yes, she was a raging Borderline at times. She had the entire family at each others’ throats and would sit back and chuckle at the train wreck. But she really just wanted to be loved and to have attention. And her kids were truly rotten to her. Truly. I didn’t realise the enormity of it until we came to Brisbsne and it all devolved from there.

I lived with that guilt and shame for a long time. Then one day I just let it go. It wasn’t anything I did or could have done differently. It was other’s selfishness and greed. I was stripped bare myself when I finally left that marriage. My freedom came at an enormous price: including almost being murdered.

So Vale Hilda Arons/Hinde Drukier. I acknowledge the price you paid for love too. A too-high price. A woman of worth, her price far beyond rubies. Blessed Be! Rest well little Mother/Grandmother.

10 August 2024

3:04 am home safe from another amazingly wild night of dancing at the Brooklyn Standard for/with Alter Egos.

I had a fabulous time and I managed to reach catharsis to my favourite Rock Songs. Omg…so good! Now I must revert to Cronedom…until next week (giggles!)

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Awake after only 3:17 hours sleep. Omg. Today is gonna be weird. I danced myself right out of my body (well almost!) I was astonishingly grounded last night. It was intense, enervating, magickal and quite wonderful.

A group of men came to sit at the table with me. When they observed Scott come back from their break and gift me a hug and a quick chat about my health and how my week was, the older man closest to me asked me who he was and what the name of the band was?

I just smiled and replied “Scott from Alter Egos. They are an excellent band and I think you will enjoy their music but of course, I am a little biased as I have been following them for 14 years.” I beamed with pride!

The man looked at me with great admiration. I said “Excuse me having my back to you but I support the band with my dancing!” He smiled. Said “Do what you love!” So I threw myself back into “the dance”.

When I took off my glasses and top hat to mosh I heard the men behind me, all making moaning sounds of approval which was a tad hilarious but by then I was in my zone and didn't really care.

When the men left, the same older man said to me “They are brilliant!” I nodded and grinned enthusiastically. I was glad they enjoyed the music and my participatory “performance art” 😉.

Some crazy young Irish women climbed up on the seat. I tapped her gently on the back and told her to get back down. Then she did it again and actually fell on me and her stiletto went into my lace skirt but fortunately it didn't tear.

I said, “Honey, don't do that again!" In this really deep threatening voice. She came to sit beside me later in the night, trying to befriend me. I told her “I forgive you”. But frankly she was a pain in my arse lol.

But I felt extremely powerful having her trying to win me over at the end of the night so I decided to be kind. She probably liked me going berserk to “Zombie”…being Irish and all. Lol.

Another man danced near me all night long, wildly, but he didn't impede on my personal space so I was cool with him. Towards the end of the night he grinned at me and said "I love dancing!" I nodded happily.

So it was a very excellent night. Everyone was joyous! I had a long walk to the Uptown car park as $11 is wayyy cheaper than those two fines totalling $644. I told Richard the security manager and even he was shocked at that.

Earlier in the night when I reached the front of the queue he told me I don’t need to queue anymore, as I have been coming every week for a year. He says to just come to the front of the line and see either him or the other security guard. I am so thrilled about that! Spoilt Mama T!

10 August 2023

I am still processing yesterday’s encounter. It is the second time a man has come forward, offering to teach me survival skills in the Australian outback. (A very sensible practical skill).

Cedric yesterday and Cecil, the young aboriginal man I met at the casino who was sweet and big hearted but far too young for me, and there was so much vicious sabotage on the dance floor that night that I got a little weirded out and triggered!

Cecil was a roo shooter and Cedric told me yesterday he also lives out in the bush at times, living off kangaroo, turtle, fish (whitebait) and witchetty grubs, rabbits etc. None of those creatures I would ever choose to eat willingly. I was greatly bemused.

Especially when he mentioned the fishermen giving him free whitebait, as I met a strange man outside the casino a few months ago that kept offering to kiss me as he’d just had a feed of whitebait and I had to escape him as he was a very ardent wannabe paramour but The Tanya was sickened by the thought of fishy breath and a mad obsessive lover. Hahaha.

Katrina told me he was an undercover cop which made perfect sense as he was intelligent and very fit and strong and even hoisted me up over his shoulder at one point. I had told him he was extremely strong and athletic for a homeless man. But I ran away from him as it got a little too intense.

Anyway Cedric wants to teach me how to pan for gold and survive in the bush. Not sure if that is actually a good idea, going bush with wild bushmen who are a bit odd. (No more odd than I though! We do have our spirituality in common!) but man, the angels heard my prayers that I need to survive this current epoch so I must trust in them that they are actually sending me safe trustworthy men who are actually decent.

But The Tanya is well aware of how quickly the white bait or the worm on the hook can turn. I have had a lifetime of such sadistic callow treachery. In fact very conscious of the current selfishness, abandonment in my time of grief and the mercenary greedy behaviour I have just barely survived in the past 2 weeks.

Maybe it’s a wise move to just go Bush and never fucking come back to this city. But then I would risk homelessness…and I don’t want to end up like my father, itinerant and mad, then murdered by the State of Victoria via medical neglect in that old people’s home at Shepparton.

Frankly it would be more noble and kinder to quietly die by passive suicide. But I have fought all my life against all the odds for my own life and my little nîche, grab hold, sacred space on planet Earth. So why should I cede my integrity, body autonomy, spirit now? Fuck THEM!

10 August 2022

It’s been another beautiful warm sunny day. I sat in the garden for a while with Charley and Beauregard. Then took them for a walk.

When I got home I polished up my copper “sacred Space” sign at my front gate.

Then I went to throw the glove I was wearing for the polishing into the Bin and discovered to my surprise that the parcel with my new Doc Martens had arrived and was left beside the banana trees not far from the double gates. Hmmm. I almost missed finding them.

The courier must be afraid of my dog or just unbearably lazy! This is the second time a parcel has just been dropped there.

Oh well, no harm no foul although I could t understand why the tracking said their were with the courier since yesterday! They must have been out there since then!

Or it came while I was on my walk perhaps.

Anyway I went right in to try them on, fearful that they might not fit. But all is well! They fit perfectly!

…

10 August 2021

4:10 am. I woke up consciously aware of my “manic denial” of our current epoch of a zombie apocalypse but smiling through the pain and horror because out of the smoke and ashes of the old world…a new one is already breaking through the cracks and unsteady ground.

In the silence you can almost hear it breathing.

The prophet is one who tells the truth and the truth is we are all connected by fear but also by hope, immersed in this current death cult but also by a stoic determination to keep living as joyfully and determinedly as we have ever done.

We have the opportunity with every breath to co-create a more loving, kinder, supportive world. It’s our only modus operandi. We need each other. We need to show up for ourselves too. Our planet, our animals, birds, insects, marine life, need us to be aware, to be “holy”, to be Whole and to choose life by being Kind.

I am grateful to see this new potential pushing itself out into the burning scarified old life. To see the wisdom of our earth, to see the regeneration of our generation.

But it’s time I slept for a few more hours. I wore myself out two days ago, washing and combing fleece. Yesterday I was utterly exhausted. 🙂

Good morning! Be brave, be loving, sei Gesund and follow your bliss with harm to none!

…

Hilda did not like to hold newborn babies. Not since her last infant died in 1960. She was afraid of them.

A cousin claimed that there was a rumour at the hospital that Nathaniel Arons had been born healthy but was smothered only a few short hours later. But no one pressed charges and that family was toxic beyond belief so I don’t know the truth. But she refused to hold Crystal. The closest to intimacy was when I would leave baby Crystal on hilda’s bed while I went to the kitchen to make us a cup of tea.

In the lounge Harry’s large old Lazyboy Leather chair was rocking by itself. I had thought my MIL was crazy with grief until I witnessed this with my own eyes.

So Big Powerful spirits on all sides of my family tree. It has not made for an ordinary life. But Harry valued me. He paid off not one, but two houses so I could “Prosper”. He did not imagine the levels of pure hate and evil I would have to survive from my own mother.

So Hilda, I am sorry. I was not there for you at your end. I had to escape the viciousness and literally fell out of frypan back into the fire.

I was blind to my own mother. Like a veil or a blindfold (even as I struggled against her pervasive narcissism.).

Hilda herself was a raging borderline. It made life rather fraught. But I did love her. Even though she could not be trusted. She did do right by me and my children which I cannot say about my own mother.

So in that she was a fine mother and a decent woman. She was a hostage to Shirley’s narcissism and Jacques vicious dull intellect psychopathology and greed.

Wherever my MIL is she knows I was not greedy or vengeful. I just needed a safer life and hoped I would find that in Brisbane.

Bris.....BANE. Rolls eyes.

Go in peace Hilda. I cried for you on that plane flight to Australia. Your son so cruel to you that instinctively I already knew my fate.

I should have run away to the farthest corners of the planet. But I worried about giving stability to my babies. FFS. We never stood a chance!

10 August 2020

Wow. I thought we were Viking through my grandmother Connie’s line (the Andersons) but it seems very possible we could have Viking ancestry through the Phillips line, hailing from Dublin. Interesting.

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Watching “Little Birds” on Stan. Fabulous, Darlings. It is based on Anaïs Nin’s short stories.

…

Yeah...whatever! But I did have the ghost of a dead homeopath psychopath haunt me so it seems he finally recognised after death that my love had been Real. Small compensation for all the suffering he put me through, especially colluding with my mother and Buck Scherer.

Evil bastard. But I attracted so many evil bastards in my life. It was crazy making. But I kept my sanity...barely, and my honour and integrity. A proud strong beautiful woman who no man loved enough to choose.

Shit happens. I have survived even the calibre of my own love. Barely. Maybe I am stripped bare like Lady Godiva, riding through my own horror like a Queen. Let those whom had only ever evil intent towards me turn to stone (oh wait mixing metaphors that was Medusa!)

Lady Godiva and Boudiccea my brave Warrior Goddesses...Allow me a true loyal faithful Love and a peaceful safe happy life in all paradigms...or I shall die 😉.

10 August 2019

2:15 am home from a good night dancing at Livewire Bar with Ramjet. I danced with Richie and Karen and Jo and Sally and Andy and Tash. I left at 1:35 am as I am utterly exhausted. Phew. But we had fun.

My feet hurt but it was worth it. Time for a cup of tea and a schluff.

…

10:11 am. Just woke up with a bit of a cold. Dammit. I might have over-exerted myself with the dancing but it was worth it.

Better get up and sit in the sun for a while. Oh and yesterday I kept seeing elevens and again right now. Spirit is reminding me constantly of my Mana. Cheers fanx a lot Spirit but this meat body is still healing itself so try not to drive me too hard, yeah?

There was a lot of love in the room last night. I soaked it up like a sponge and shifted that energy like sparkling angel dust confetti all over the place. It felt good to be back in my own energy again. But for how long? I never can tell before the next illness bogs me down again.

August’s winter westerly winds which blew up yesterday have delivered me a sinus infection. Probably from all the dust. It seems relentless. But The Tanya will rise and shine and experience the Divine and let no mortal keep her down and out for long.

I am grateful to G-d, the Angels, the Earth and a few rare and precious spirit guides both incarnate and discarnate who love me and support me in my freedom quest and love fest.

Blissfully Blessèd Woman here!

10 August 2018

Last night I had weird dreams about being in a secondhand shop, looking at all the stuffed toys, then I became obsessed with looking at all their gold and diamond jewellery. Pulling out little drawers and studying the gems on offer.

The manager of the store did not seem to mind me exploring everything and absolutely trusted me. I felt validated. I don’t think I ended up buying anything. Maybe it will be one of my serial mini-series dreams where I eventually buy a piece. Lmao!

Update 2021: 3 years later and I am Silversmithing…or trying to and indeed have become obsessed with acquiring sterling silver cutlery and eventually little gems to make bezels for and setting them. Lol!

…

10 August 2017

Beauregard has spent the morning vomiting. It has given me quite a scare. He seems settled now. I put some apple cider vinegar in his drinking water. But he has not had much to drink but it may have helped somewhat.

…

It is such a pretty day, watching the world going down in flames. The sun is shining. What will it be like to never see the sun, or birds, or my dog and cats? To never feel fresh air lightly caressing my face? To drink fresh clean water.

All because of two spoilt little rich boys.

A day worth dying for?

It was prophesied that Trump would be the Last US president. Now we know why.

But just for today I will plant my garden of delights, breathe and wait for the gods of righteousness: the holy messengers of the Supernal to beam us up along with Scottie as you know the G-d of Israel protects our earth. Always has, always will. Trump and Kim Jung Un. You will be stopped. That is my prayer. My Hope. My Kadimah.

…

Eating corn cobs because I am alive and I can! Hah!

…

Another one bites the dust. On the brink of nuclear war and American AshkeNazis still think Trump is a wonderful guy and call me an asshole for saying otherwise and the so-called mutual friend shuts me down cos you know Ultra-Orthodox Boys Club. I am disgusted. But when we all melt in the next fusion it won't matter who you voted for, you fucking morons. Nuclear radiation does not discriminate against gender/race/religion or politics. Fuck off deadbeats!

10 August 2016

I am an end state trauma patient. Which means that rather annoyingly, at a relatively youngish age (51) I have taken to waking up around 4 or 5 every morning. Wide awake! So I got up to make a cup of tea. Turned off the living room light.

I heard the power come on around 4 am. They must have struggled as the trucks and male noises have been out there since 1 ish. The power went off around 11.30 pm so I went to bed then.

It is eerily silent outside, apart from my water fountains. There is a slight thrum (of a generator) in the distance. Did last night's census (the failing server) break the Internet and somehow cause the power outage as well?My imagination would connect the dots. But I still had internet connection for a while, even without power so it must be a different issue.

I had to walk Bobo out into the garden to pee as it was cold and damp with dew and he hates the cold grass. But with much convincing he made it and he really did need to pee. So inside I gave him his dog biscuits and the cats theirs. Grateful happy pussies.

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6.31 am the census website is still down. Yup. They broke the Internet.

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It was a glorious sunny and warm day today. Ekka day holiday. Usually blustery cold westerly winds. I spent the day outside, manicly scrubbing all my garden copper pots and kettles that I keep on my stairs.

It was a mammoth task but now they are all shiny again. I also cleaned my copper signs and polished the brass porthole, doorbell and mermaid. Everything is shiny again. I also did several loads of washing.

I was utterly exhausted but managed to get lots done. I took Bobo to the dog park. For once he managed to get along with most of the dogs and had a lovely time.

I cooked some more roast veges for dinner. They were yummy. Now sitting watching Black Books and feeling accomplished albeit exhausted again.

10 August 2015

At Kylie, my hairdresser. Thanks to my beautiful Lyn who rang me up twice to make sure I got out of bed in time.

Feeling greatly loved and supported. Lyn is my Rock. It was rather cute when she sang me the good morning sunshine song and I probably grunted at her. Lyn is my best Mummy ever!

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6.10 pm home safe. My hair looks lovely. I am happy but exhausted. Sitting on my bed, watching Madmen.

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Happiness is a precious gift. One is fortunate indeed, if even for the briefest moment she should perch upon your shoulder and sing to you of joy, bliss and healing.

You can't keep her hostage or cage her. She is fleeting but always free.

The first time I experienced real happiness I thought I had gone completely Mad. That is how I knew. After decades of depression my time had come.

…

I Have no regrets at all!

10 August 2013

Went out last night. Got bored at Elephant Arms so went to Casino. My busker friend wasn't there so I went inside. Met a couple of women I know from there. Danced with one. Both women took my numbers as we hope to meet up in city and party together as the casino is so dead now.

I got home around 4. I was glad I had my car as it was very cold but I wore my biker jacket I bought in Lifeline so got hot and cold as it is a heavy man's jacket, so I had to take it off to cool down.

A maori guy who sat with his wife commented it looked like it was made in NZ as it is such heavy leather and fully lined. He really liked it. I said it could be, as it is thick and heavy.

He said he hasn't needed a jacket since he moved to Aussie. He comes from Fielding where it was -14 other day. Gees! Second person this week to mention Fielding. Hmmm. Synchronicity.

I looked sexy. Under my heavy biker jacket I wore my pvc corset, black and cream lace gypsy skirt, red stockings, high platform shoes. Needless to say, my feet are in crippling pain.

I looked very Sigma Female so that kept the men at bay except for the lovely maori couple who were charming. The women were fascinated at the Elephant and danced with me which was nice.

…

I had dinner with Gail, Christina, Tahylia and their friend Jordon. After Tayhlia and I had cuddles and looked at her Sims game on her mini IPad. She has been very wired so it was nice to just cuddle her and settle her before her bedtime. I love that child.

Tomorrow we plan to go to a park with her and Miss Bella.

10 August 2011

Just figured out why I'm extra curvy! The shampoo that I used in the shower that runs down my body says " for extra volume and body". From now on I'm going to use dishwashing liquid that says "dissolves fat that's difficult to remove". Repost if you have the same issue... and a good sense of humour.

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Actually I have a vivid memory of my Narcissist Sociopath mother forcing me to wash my hair with lemon dishwashing liquid, I believe it was Sunlight, as she was convinced my hair was too greasy ( I was 13 and 14 at the time!)

This combined with the really bad perm she made me get (my hair was too lank and dead straight) meant my hair stuck up at right angles and I looked more like a sad derelict Sideshow Bob, with the same homicidal/suicidal thoughts stirring through my mind (you had to be there I guess!)

Sunlight dishwashing liquid killed the oil, killed my hair, killed my joie de vie, killed my individuation from that evil psychopathic bitch, ensured she looked 'prettier' than I, gave my sister the dominant status she always craved to tell me I looked 'dirty' cos I had the usual normal amount of puberty pimples, and there goes the rest of my Tenacious T-type sanity.

So Fuck it. Dishwashing liquid dissolves the fat but desolves the soul and devolves the psyche. I'll stick to extra volume and body so I can fill myself up, stay puffy, bright and bushytailed. Eat cake, dream big, live life large or at least in clear focus and never ever ever let the bastards dilute who you are, in perfect perpetuity!

Last time, in 2003 when members of my Jewish community dared to critique me on my lack of hairdressage....I got pissed off, and got my friend Jarrod to backcomb me a lovely set of Dreads! Day one of Dread Fullness, I looked just like Sideshow Bob.

It was cool ‘cos I went for coffee to The Three Monkeys at West End, meeting up with above-mentioned WormTongues, one of which was an ex-lover.

The sight of my dreads made them all so embarrassed and uncomfortable (I had to hold them down with a scarf lol, looking more like Isadora Duncan.) The waitress took one look at me, said "Wow, New Dreads! You look awesome!" and brought me a huge mug instead of the tiny cups everyone else had. And so I reclaimed my inner core, my anarchistic revolutionary streak!

No woman, man, or schmuck ever asked me about my style or hairdoes (or don'ts) again. Funny that!

…

Last night, my beautiful daughters and Jarrod came to visit me. Crystal had made a wonderful meal (Roast Lamb and pumpkin, potatoes, and homemade chocolate cookies!)

She texted me to see if I'd had dinner yet and came with everyone to surprise me with their company and the lovely meal. Jasmine and I connected nicely for the first time in a long time and we all played Ukelele, and watched dvds of the kids when they were little.

I was so happy to be given this Gift of Love, after the heartbreak from my sister. I didn't tell the girls about my sister. No point really, it's just more of the same ugliness. I'm so glad we all had a nice evening together.

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I have had a tumultous week, starting last week and still undergoing the aftershocks. Yesterday my sister Angela informed me that I am DEAD to her.

Noice, but not totally news. She's treated me with cold abandon since I came to Australia 23 years ago, so I can't really hope for a sudden change in heart. Well, I know now who is real in my life, and it's not my sister for sure!

Update 2020: Dead sisters...still not crying...you perverted evil Bitch!

10 August 2010

Rain, rain go away come another washing day. I was all geared up to wirebrush the chairs and give them a new spray painting, but no dice. Too wet and now I have to wait for dry weather.

It's also annoying because I wanted to poison my pesky Bindii weeds. Oh well if this keeps up I'll be Bindii-Hopping this spring/summer again.

10 August 1988

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons