Memories: 12 July 2025

12 July 2025

12 July 2024

6:18 am I just woke up from a very intense dream. Actually two dreams blended together like a miniseries. I was so astonished when I woke up that I took off my cpap mask. Checked my sleep details. Mask seal: poor.

Odd …as I felt I had slept quite well apart from needing two pee breaks during the night (a vast improvement after the previous night’s 14 pee breaks then being unable to breathe properly during that night which was terrifying.

I leapt out of bed, still having difficulty walking, I lumbered into the lounge to grab my iPhone charger. The dream still hammering in my consciousness. Powerful messaging. Confronting, cruel, unkind, misogynistic but powerful.

The first dream was I visited two men in a unit complex (reminiscent of the one I lived in at Bowen Street Capalaba). One man sat outside out of sight but he joined in the conversation even though I couldn’t see him. The other man was watching tv: a show about shepherding sheep. The sheep were being placed into a v shape.

I was pulling out various dips and snacks from their fridge and placing them in bowls. I felt unwelcome and uncomfortable as I didn’t know this space and I dislike going through people’s cupboards.

The dream reminded me how one of the women had come to my home and had confidently rifled through my cupboards and had brought out five ice cream containers to put food into.

I had joked that I didn’t even know I owned 5 ice cream containers! I was impressed with her confidence in utilising my kitchen so efficiently.

Anyway, the men start acting weird, making comments about me being in the kitchen or I got a vibe, so I walked out. The second dream joined on seamlessly as though I had merely left one party and suddenly appeared in another one.

The kitchen was in an open plan style house, so people were sitting to the right of the kitchen at a long dining table but also in the lounge area and we could see each other. I was standing in the kitchen, again serving up dips.

The second dream was about a party I attended where there were several police attending. Off duty. I didn’t know anyone at the party so I didn’t know they were police.

One man at the party got a little drunk and emotional so he spoke about his abuse as a child and how he was still struggling in life. So I listened to him then added my story of surviving three strangulations after very minimal support from Queensland Police. I was standing in the kitchen when I spoke out.

One of the men, a bald aggressive supercilious type stormed into the kitchen and stood in front of me and very aggressively demanded “Do you know who I am?” I replied “No I do not? Should I?”

He stated he is a detective in Qld Police and he doesn’t like my attitude. I squared my shoulders and replied “Perhaps I would have had a better attitude if at least one of your personnel over the decades had actually done your job right and protected me and my daughters”. I held his gaze…his eyes swirling with aggression. He sat back down.

Another man stood up and came over to confront me. He had a strange nose piercing with a small diamond stud which had a gold wire soldered to the stud which looped across his face then overlapped itself.

“I’m a cop too”. I replied “Oh really? How nice! I like your nose piercing, it’s highly unusual!” He smirked at me, dripping hate and said “You are a Namus”. I turned my head quizzically. “What’s a namus?” “Haha you don’t even know”. I replied “Maybe I don’t, so what’s your point?”

He stalks off in grandiose displays of masculine superiority, like a gorilla. I decide it’s time to leave this party. Just at that moment, another man comes to stand beside me. He has his mobile phone in his hand, shows me the meanings of ”Namus” but for some reason I can’t make out the words. I start shaking. A trauma response.

This man, seeing me starting to show actual signs of distress tells me “Take no notice of them. You were right to speak out. Your reality is your reality even if they can’t handle it. I just wanted to show you, we are not all bastards.” I nodded.

Interestingly, not one of those police in my dream had dared confront the first man who bravely told his story. Just little old me.

The kind man says to me “Don’t worry! They are just wankers!” I yell out “You are all cuntish wankers” to the rest of the party. Feeling furious but triumphant. The dream ended abruptly.

Here are the various meanings of “Namus”:

Hmmm After checking the meanings I now understand why the last man came to show me the meanings. The second cop was calling me a “missing person or unidentified person” ie a non entity. Ie possibly dead.

Even in that toxic space, the last man in that dream had my back. Interesting. Earth angels can be found anywhere.

In real life I rarely attend parties. I can’t even remember the last one. It’s been that long. It’s partly why I create my own joy and party every weekend, dancing for bands instead. Where I have been included and treated with kindness and respect.

This morning I still feel quite weak after Wednesday night’s scary event of not being able to breathe. My rib cage is tender and even my stomach muscles ache a bit. But by the gods if I feel Strong enough by tonight I will dance again. Like the goddess Kali Ma dancing on the heads of ALL my primordial and still extant enemies. Lmao.

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Lady Death and I had a long lambada…again… I told her if this keeps up she’ll have to finish her mission…She told me She can wait. So here we go! Fighting on/dancing on/living on… jive turkeying my assets for longer than I anticipated. It’s all anticipation… innit?!

Tonight I dance for Life (L’Chaim) and for/with my handsome talented friends Alter Egos. Sleipnir, bring me my Jack Daniel’s and some wild old music because it’s time for my Cabaret, old Chums. Oh wait…wrong gods…mixing my metaphors here (giggles).

Master of the multiverses has me universally confounded by the Mystery as per usual. Big agapé love to my Holy One, the jealous god and to my myriads of earthangels that support me in my psychedelic dreaming. You know who you are!

12 July 2023

This evening Jarrod and I attended Crystal’s pre-show run for Beginning, written by David Eldridge. The play is excellent and is about a couple left behind at a party navigating emotional vulnerability and a nascent relationship based on the interminal biological clock. The show goes on to preview tomorrow night and Opening night is on Friday.

It has been nominated for a Mathilda Award so industry professionals will be in attendance throughout the play’s season. Exciting!

I wish my daughter Success and to “break a leg!”

12 July 2022

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Thank you to my beautiful healer and friend Jackie Burns for the Bach Flower essences which just arrived. I already took 7 drops.

Thank you for the love, the positive intentions and the determination of all my beautiful magickal healers, and shaman friends who fight for my continuing Thriving on this planet, in this paradigm.

May G-d in all Their perfected manifestations of Love Light Peace and Truth bless you all. xxxx

I could not be here without your immense support. I am very blessed and grateful.

12 July 2021

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12 July 2020

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11:11 am. Alive in the Dream. :-)

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Trigger warning: sadism, human sexuality, suicidal ideation.

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Just your everyday sadism..move along nothing to see here 😉

My skin cancer wound has tipped me down the rabbit hole. I’m running upside down, losing ground, losing hope, losing love. But never losing my mind although my religion slipped sideways some time ago

I typed up my diaries about the affair I had at 37. One of the most passionate ones in my life. But I was in recovery from Davidson and of course, decades of cptsd and that beautiful, beautiful loving young man had no idea.

I had wanted a lover that had not been groomed, paid for or manipulated by my perverted narcopathic mother and when one found me and constantly reiterated his true love I could not trust in it. (Also he kept lying about his marital status, one minute engaged, then married...) and you know how The Tanya hates liars and worse, the kinds of men who debase her body mind and soul. But I was no prude. Only broken and deluded.

So naturally the only beautiful love affair in my life was doomed to turn sour. Kudos to one happy ending though. He didn’t attack or try to strangle me like the others.

He did however, tell me if I ever grew dreadlocks he would know I was crazy and he would never speak to me again. So I went right out and bought dreadlock wax and dyed my pubes purple and never looked back. No man everrr has the right to tell me how to dress or present myself.

So 2002 and 2003 was an upgrade of sorts.

Then several more years of celibacy then Courtenay came into my life (he again...was manipulated by Gail?!).

I ask you, am I that ugly? That much of a freak that no human man can love me on my own terms? Does there always have to be an organ grinder and his apeshit mad malevolent monkey interfering in my love life? Or is that the Dybbuk?! Rolls eyes...I will never know now, will I?!

Such is life! I remember when Michelle was so vicious to me about Davidson and told me to go home and wank for the rest of my life.

She was so slavishly grovelling to him and his then fiancée. The borderline enmeshment was so very sick. She even said this, with her brand new husband (who actually looked at me with compassion!) in tow.

I must tell you...lmao. Wanking or self pleasuring is a far far better pastime than selling yourself out like a camp prostitute on the bedraggled end of a refugee line to dastardly cruel and psychopathic MEN. I would rather cut my own throat than do that.

Part of my last suicide attempt was about not going down in a blaze of dishonour and disgusting betrayal of my own integrity as a Woman. I have fought too many cuntish psychopaths in my entire life to ever ever do that!

So here we are: The Tanya. Friendless, childless, lover-less. But Alive. Still small but still fierce.

I am proud of whom I am. I like myself. Even after all the decades and decades of abuse. They failed to kill my Warrior Goddess spirit.

From my diaries:

Saturday 20th April 2002.

I spent the day at the shul service then a board meeting :a very long day.

Margot asked me if I was alright? I looked “neither here nor there”. I told her I had man trouble.

She said “that's normal. You've got plenty of good years in you yet, for sex etc.”

I said “I'd hung up my boots and given up on men and now this. I'm not real happy with myself.” She said “You're still young and it's only natural. Don't worry about it.”

Juan also told me later, that he thought I should take a lover after the kids leave home! I was freaked out as he asked me if I'm seeing someone?

I said “Just a fly by Nighter, not someone I'd let get in the way of my plans to go to Byron Bay!” I told him. “You know how I was joking about getting a Pajero?”

He said “Yes”. I said “Well, I've got my wish so I have to be more careful about what I ask for!”

I wonder if he set me up with (name redacted) like maybe told him that I was acting horny and antsy and (name redacted) decided to go for it with me again. It was almost as if he knew what I was doing.

I suppose being a doctor, he can tell by my blush or flush or something in the eyes that I'd had sex again. David always knew where I was in my cycle! So it's probably all there is to it.

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So here is yet more evidence that even my fellow shule members were more obsessed with what I did with my infamous Vagina than I was personally.

There is a certain power in that! Even in my most vulnerable state I still was able to galvanise my wit with the jokes about the Pajero (mexican slang for Stallion) and being careful of getting what I wished for.

At 37 at the height of my Peri-menopause (my defective womb was already singing its siren song and it was finally carved out of me at 42!) my feminine mystique was of such peculiar interest to my fellow Jews.

Like...as if all I ever was, was a body to be fucked, abused, slandered and maligned.

And these creeps wondered why I was suicidal most of the time. Even that I fought against until 2015.

So yeah... where am I going with this?.... next time I decide to die...I declare to the Multiverses, the demiurge, the Hologram, or whatever false and feckless Energy that put me here on this Planet. Thou shall not betray or intervene in my will again.

I stayed alive to see my daughters reach adulthood while simultaneously enduring the most vicious attacks for years. Now my daughters are themselves in their 30s, my job is done. I am free to do as I most desired. (Never fucking made it to Byron Bay because of poverty and vicious callow men but no blame or shame...Psy sighs... it is what it is).

I am holding on now solely for me. (And my dog and my bird and my two geriatric cats.) It’s beautiful. It’s spiritual and it’s delightfully FIERCE....and nothing else matters.

Maybe that funny wonderful man from Essex that I had a wild night with back in 2013 was right: I am Boudiccea. Or her reincarnation.

It won’t bode well for me if I am though. She was butchered by the Romans because her own people had blocked her only exit from the battlefields with their chariots. (Treachery? Or misadventure?). But the irony is not lost on me.

Maybe I better emulate the Queen of Mircea and “take no prisoners” either in my bed or life. Tempting...

What more can a warrior goddess do but fight for her right to be Joyous, Triumphant, Vibrant, Vital and Free.

Maybe the next time I take a lover he will be worthy of a woman like me and will behave with deep respect. An equal. A man of high calibre.

Not the usual lacklustre malevolent rogues I used to cut my teeth on.

Nay brothers in arms, my power is not in my loins although a few enjoyed a good frolicking in my heyday! My POWER is in my Heart. And my heart is untameable as it was moulded from the gods and shaped by fate. Stand back, stand aside, know before whom You stand 😉.

Even Black Douglas threw his best friend’s (Robert the Bruce) heart into the fray. He had that much faith it would keep him safe. But hearts are capricious things. Capricious but stubborn.

(Bites into some more duct tape and slaps on another dressing).

Naked and sacred my heart burns, stoic and brave my heart yearns, alone and invincible my heart saves, from the ugliness and most moribund and depraved.

Well actually no, I am in no position to save anyone, I can barely keep myself above the waterline. But I was thinking here about the ghoulish grovelling dead lover that hunted and haunted my front door four years ago. Maybe I did save him...more than he knew.

I read in my diaries how I had to speak to him like he was a dangerous little boy let out of school too early, or a psych patient on day release. I had to measure my words carefully and keep my voice calm and almost robotic. That is how fucking disturbed he was.

Hard work when I myself was barely alive. So kudos to me... and back to the 7th echelon of hell for him. I acknowledge this though...The spirits did not lie. He had loved me in his own defective deleterious way.

But my love superseded his. My love was stronger and more determined than I knew. And so it goessss.... This ancient heart of mine and the Trickster spirits and the game players and the various cartwheeling Dybbukkim.

There be Angels in the architecture...spinning in infinity. Spinning on the end of my Hobbitses big fat toe.

And altogether we say: HALLELUJAH.

A song from my Sponsor:

Another memory from my diary:

Saturday 17th November 2001

I miss David. – It's a shame we had to end up enemies. I told Jarrod yesterday that there will come a time, When David Crawls at my feet for forgiveness. Call it vanity, call it insanity, but I really believe it. Jarrod agreed with me. He said he's not doing well, according to Michelle so David must be wracked with guilt and shame.

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15 years later and so it was... the ghost of Brisbane jewish community Ladies (Israeli/Scottish/English -madman.) The cunt.

But funny how I already knew so many years prior. The calibre of his cowardice. He should have had the moral integrity to beg my forgiveness while he was Alive.

But nay...

Don’t worry. I am happy. I got what I wanted most in my life: my safety and my sanity and my freedom to Thrive while every other dirty Motherfucker still tried to jive-turkey my hide. Even Death could not keep him from me. A powerful lesson in that.

NEVER EVER EVER EVERRRRR FUCK WITH THE TANYA.

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Oh dear Goddess…yes!

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12 July 2019

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I had very bad night last night. Bad reflux and little sleep. I took extra medication to no avail. Gahhhh!

Then I woke up from a nightmare that I had been moved onto an apartment block into a tiny one bedroom apartment on a second or third storey. No garden, no courtyard. Everything grey concrete.

I was freaking out about where to keep the dog, the cats and Charlie. I had Charlie in his cage on the kitchen table and the dog freaking out too.

I was muttering to myself, “I can’t possibly live here. What will become of us? I can’t give away my animals” wringing my hands in despair.

It felt very real! Even at my poorest and most desolate I have always rented a home with some small garden for my pets. Always. So it was a horrible dream and I woke up feeling shattered.

Then I let the animals outside in my garden and rejoiced that we are all still Alive and have this home and garden which so many of my former friends and partners scorned (out of spite or envy!)

So I sat outside with a cup of tea in the sun and let myself enjoy the amazing gift I have and the beauty and most cherished of all, the peace.

I am safe, I am loved (if only by the gods and a few rare and precious humans and creatures). Mr crow squawking at me as I write! I am happy in my own mad existence.

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Omggg! I just had an epiphany as to what that spirit of Sir James Douglas that appeared beside my bed wanted me to know.

He died in battle in Granada as he had used his friend and fellow Warrior, Robert The Bruce’s heart as an amulet to protect him in battle. He had thrown it into the fray, superstitiously believing it would save him. Alas...no. That heart in a silver casket was supposed to be carried to the Holy Land for burial. But instead it was buried back in Scotland.

So I was being shown that my heart, no matter how broken by cruel feckless humans...will go on. Until the time comes when it stops, of course.

The messenger confused me. I do have Scottish ancestors but I have not researched far enough back to know if “Black Douglas” or perhaps Robert The Bruce were ancestors of mine. I “saw” him last October and it freaked me out as I had never seen a spirit before. I remained calm and asked him what he wanted but he only gave me his name so I had to google him.

Anyway it must have been a message about my health scare and a reminder that Big big hearts will go on and even the greatest warriors must eventually die and there is no point in putting faith into amulets or talismans or hero worshipping other people as we all must crumble back into dust some day.

Also the story is a reminder of how even a great warrior could put his faith in the spirit or heart of a friend, forgetting that the power remains inside ourselves, not in others.

Like Boudiccea (who was trapped in a battle by her own people’s carts blocking her only escape route) Black Douglas was abandoned in battle by his Spanish compatriots and died in the fray.

Lesson to be learned there! Trust no one but G-d and even then cultivate your own inner god/dess as some things come down to fate. Own your own power but honour the life and the soul G-d gifted you. Everything is connected.

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12 July 2018

I had a bit of a rough night. Hypomanic (racing thoughts). I went to bed at 12:30 am and was still fighting sleep on and off until 4 am. I hate when that happens. My mouth was hurting a bit. But here I am awake again. Another beautiful day stretches ahead of me.

I had an intense dream that I was looking through a huge house with the intention to rent or buy. But I was not impressed that it had no fences so was not safe for my dog.

I know why I had that dream. Beauregard escaped through a hole that he dug under the front fence last evening. He was chasing his ball that he pushes out under there (really annoying game he plays with me which drives me insane!). So I need to buy more steel mesh to stop the little rascal from breaking out of Sacred Space.

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I just took Beauregard and Charlie for a walk to the dog park. They had a lovely stroll. But now I am weary and my mouth hurts. Might have something to eat and then a little lie down. (Still need to get to Bunnings to buy torq screwdriver set!).

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After listening to one of the Shamans, it has been brought home to me that as a “Wounded Healer” I need to heal the aspects of my female psyche that still attracts disingenuous, superficial, inauthentic men who are more often than not predators at worst or lost boys at best.

So what does this say about me? I need to forgive all the paedophiles and sexual predators of my past, all the Lost boys and liars/cheats/man-whores, so that bitterness and cynicism and fear does not subsume me or steal my light and immense joy.

I need to forgive the women (especially my mother!) who enabled them.

Or Love will never find me and come to me clean and clear and meet me where I am, in my own intrinsic integrity, naked and sacred in Sacred Space.

But for now... fuck it. Lmao!

I really see so much beauty and potential unfurling inside me and I am Enough, perfectly materialised in body/soul/mind. My heart is opening again and counting my own blessings.

Like cures Like!

Grateful Blessèd Woman here.

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Thank you to my beautiful healers and friends. I just had a lovely chat with my friend Nigel in NZ. He gave me some lovely positive readings. I feel excited for my future, in the coming months. A lovely boost especially after current struggles.

Thank you HaShem whom manifests Joy, Healing, great Love and positive new impetus in my life Now. Blessed Be!

12 July 2017

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The Lighthouse of the Orcas. The male lead is gorgeous!! The Orcas are gorgeous too, unless you are a sea lion!

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Watching Extra Ordinary on Netflix. About alien abductions.

12 July 2016

I am so tired but I have had a nice hot Epsom salt bath, a nice cup of tea and am now in bed, watching Netflix. Relaxing after a busy few days.

It is a weirdly warmish night. I did not need to put on the heater tonight. When I went outside to close up the chicken coops I did not need a jacket. Strange weather given how cold it has been lately.

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Chest bad. Exhausted. Lying on my couch with my dog. Netflix. Cup of tea. No anarchy tonight. This earthling is too stuffed to revel in revolutions.

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12 July 2015

4.42 am. Home safe after a wonderful night dancing with my beautiful friends. Now soaking in a hot hot bath. I can't feel my feet.

I went Off like a Berserker on Psylocybin last night. Stomped my pain, rage and ever-bleeding heart into the wooden dance floor. I feel fantastic now. Exhausted but happy!

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Tonight I am grateful for my beautiful loyal loving supportive and inspiring friends and my daughter.

For my home which needs a new kitchen but is still my safe haven and Sacred Space. For having a beautiful warm bed when for several years in Loganlea I slept on a mattress in a concrete floor with carpet but no underlay and wondered why my asthma was so bad and my back hurt. A warm bed is the most wonderful gift of all.

I am grateful to the government for me keeping contained and safe on my Disability pension which means that I have the freedom to heal, by resting or wild dancing on the weekends, to think, to write and be able to speak my truth about my damaged fucked up life which surprisingly some people in my community are still envious of. They would crush me and destroy me by any means.

So these awful experiences are something else I am grateful for.

The opportunity to stand up for myself and other survivors, to speak my Truth, to be my own Authentic Self and most importantly to discover Whom it is I really am Becoming! A person of Merit, Integrity, Courage, Determination and Decency.

A mother, a friend, a warrior and amongst the most horrendous Curses that G-d programmed into my Life plan, the most beautiful abundant Blessings. Some hard Won after terrible traumas and others beautifully gifted to me on a golden plate.

To Know Me is to Love me, fight for/or with me and relish the good times along with the bad. True friends and true Loves have never quit on me and I have never quit on them.

My enemies are perhaps my greatest gift of all. My teachers. One day they will learn from their malicious intentions but that is not for me to orchestrate. Let Go. let G-d. I pray I get to learn about the final outcomes. I am human after all :-) .

I am grateful for cleanish air, water, sewerage, love and food in my belly.

I am grateful for G-d/creator/universe/Adonai without Whom I would not be in this perfectly formed body (even with a few major alterations ahem!) or this incredibly perfect albeit Fragile and delicate Mind.

Did I mention I am grateful for Love Light and Truth?

Love love love to Infinity and Beyond!

.....Love! .....❤️😀😘

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Not at my house. Jarrod comes over. Fights with my recalcitrant Weber but like a champion gets the fire blazing in no time. Then he cooks the meat for me which always tastes amazing.

Someone, or I makes the salad, I provide the potatoes and sweet corn for the coals. Then there is dessert. I slide third base to avoid the actual cooking on the weber but sort of help by flipping the sausages or chicken wings around in a professional seeming adhoc way.

Jarrod and Crystal love bbqs so we always have a lovely time even though they do most of the actual work. I'm not the best hostess when it comes to cooking but I make lovely cakes which unfortunately Jarrod can no longer enjoy as he is gluten intolerant.

Crystal is lactose intolerant so that made baking rather difficult. Last time Jarrod bought a gluten free chocolate cake mix. It was so delicious I ate the entire remainder for breakfast lunch and tea the next day. Which reminds me I must buy some more of that for our next bbq. Yum!

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RIP Omar Sharif. One of my favourite actors of all time. So handsome and charming. I loved him in Funny Girl, Laurence of Arabia and most of all Dr Zhivago.

My friend Nannette's son Thimos, looks exactly like him. He was such a beautiful little boy. I remember when I was 13 he gave me a tiny little gold butterfly for my birthday (he was 7) and when he looked at me with his big watery eyes like a mini Omar Sharif I almost cried.

He's a wonderful musician but suffers terribly with severe Schizophrenia. I used to feel so angry and frustrated that this beautiful talented and handsome young man was robbed of all the best things in life in this cruel way. Mental illness, fucked both our vibes. But we are still amazingly beautiful people.

12 July 2014

5.52 am terrible pain in feet so can't sleep. Hmmm! Seroquel again methinks.

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Thank you Hashem for in your own inimitable Omniscient style answering my prayers tonight. I could have danced all night....so I did.

It was raining men, Hallelujah, and at one point I had way too much attention from 4 or 5 different blokes. I had to break it gently to one hardy but consistent soul that I am in love and until such time as I decide otherwise he has no show and a dog's show.

I did not have the heart to ruin his self-esteem completely by telling him he never had any show. Shhhh! Work with me, people.

Meanwhile my friend Steph waxed and waned like the tides but was quite amorous. I was quite surprised at one point when he played with my hair. Alas, he's not serious but he's a lovely guy to dance and drink with. He's way too young for me anyway.

So the beautiful Sarah gave me a lift home with her friends Chris and Dannica. We had pancake manor, Yum! and I got to unfurl my crippled toes for a while. Omg! The Excruciating Pain.

Steph even gave me a lecture on wearing sensible comfortable shoes. He does not understand how that would mess with my mojo ahem! (Stop laughing Jarrod, I know you are agreeing with Steph). Grrr.

Jo and Alma took me out early in the evening and bought me a mojito. I have been completely utterly spoilt by my gorgeous friends whom I adore.

The moon is Full and the howling has begun. (I just had a hot hot bath to soothe my toes though...ouchies!) I am Happy! Life is Awesome!

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The Moon is Full. My heart is Full. My belly full and well-rounded :-). My house is full. My eyes are full. My purse is empty but even in that it is full, with capacity to receive abundance in the fullness of Time. My spirit is fully developed and living large.

Time to go Dancing. My feet don't like it but that is just one technicality in a rich and happy life shared with beautiful awesome people with equally sore feet. :-)

Let the Howling Begin, let our wolvish senses surrender to the scent of joy and love and slink around our tails lazily curling around each other in companionship and joint delight. Oooppps. That analogy got lost in translation. Sniffs the air! It is Time.

12 July 2012

Just cooked dinner and ate it! It was rather nice but I've made better beef stir fries with veges and Hokkein noodles than that. I should not cook when my creative juices are not flowing... Lol

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Right now, this moment I could do with a nice cuddle! I'm worried about Sybil who had surgery on her back yesterday and had some adverse reactions today. I will try to get to see her soon!

12 July 2011

I paid off my Shabbat Candlesticks I had on layby at Lifeline. They look lovely. I was hoping to buy some antique sterling silver ones, but these look almost as good and I'm really happy with them, also they were a lot cheaper than authentic antique ones would have been!

I must be feeling ueber religious lol, cos I've ordered and paid for a bottle of Sacramental Wine. It will be one happy Shabbes next week, new candles and actual kosher wine in the house. Oh crap, this means.....ugh....I'll have to bake a Challah too. lol Weeeeelll, 2 outta 3 aint bad!

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12 July 2010

Thinking about moving furniture items which will mean more cleaning and organisation and crap. Ohhhhh, will it ever end? How does one fit an old lady's lifetime belongings into a tiny 3 bedroom cottage? (With very creative storage ideas methinks LOL)

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons