Memories: 18 July 2025

18 July 2025

8:36 am I woke up with the words “Miss Tanya” in my head. Pronounced slowly and a tad conciliatoryily. Wtf? I open my blinds and look out my window. Mist. Cold rain silvery but light mist to decorate the pallid lack of imagination squalid grey of my neighbourhood non-artistry pallet. Yuck. What ugliness to wake up to! But the mist makes it worse.

On a sunny morning it’s almost bearable. That and my neighbours across the road had the decency and defiance to paint their front door yellow so I don’t feel the urge to hang myself every time I open my blinds. That one spark of colour makes it almost palatable.

I had lots of dreams. I dreamed that all my furniture was stored at Sinai College. An old trauma dream about facing almost homelessness. It revisits occasionally.

In the dream I am living in one room with my two daughters (we did that when we moved into my mother’s granny flat!) I was lying on a mattress on the floor watching the morning ride on by, worrying about how I was ever going to buy my own home again and reclaim all my chattels. Feeling rather distressed.

Suddenly I hear the chirping of birds and in a space between two cheap wardrobe insets (I used to use these as bookcases in real life…yes we were that poor but I always kept my books as they are precious!) I walk over and see 6 tiny baby rainbow lorikeets all huddled together on the carpet (and shitting duhh!) but singing their little hearts out.

I clap my hands to my mouth in surprise and delight. Then more birds arrive, flying through the window. They sit with me on my bed, surround me in such love, delight and magick.

My girls ask me “where did these birds come from and why are they acting like they are your pets?” I reply “I don’t know but it’s so lovely, I don’t mind at all”. The dream shows me all my extensive chattels all stacked up at the school and other people using them.

Again I worry that I will never have those things in my life again. But looking at the birds, chirping and jumping around my mattress on the floor, suddenly I no longer cared. It’s only stuff. Happiness and real love and recognition from the gods/birds/ your true beloved ones is all that matters.

Then I dreamt that Lyn and I were walking in the evening. We were looking for somewhere nice to eat. She was looking for somewhere to buy cigarettes and was getting stressed as she had run out.

We find this hole-in-a-wall restaurant that sold Japanese curry (one of my favourites) so we agree to order a meal there. The staff take our order then try to charge us $1709:36. I say “Are you crazy!! There’s no way the meal should cost more that $50 for us both!”

The beautiful young woman smiles and says “Just pay it! It’s a fault with the machine…it will charge the correct price!” But I don’t trust either her or the machine. Don’t ever trust a machine, people of earth! We are the ones in charge of our destinies. Just saying.

So I argue with her. Politely. The manager comes out. Fixes it. It was her mistake. I tell Lyn “Thank the gods we weren’t gullible”. I eat with my usual Gusto.

Then we go looking for cigarettes. There are lots of shops but no tobacconists. One shop looked half empty but was stocked with baby diapers and adult incontinent pads, period pads. It sent a shiver down my spine. We finally found a convenience store that also sold cigarettes.

We sat down so she could enjoy her smoke. Then I was regaling a whole table of people about going, many many years ago, to the famous seafood smorgasbord at the Sheraton Mirage because my former husband loved shellfish very very much.

Then I woke up to the words “Miss Tanya”. Rain is forecast. But we have had some bloody glorious days so a few days of rain won’t upset my vibe too much.

Blessèd be! Be free, be wild, be happy. Don’t sweat the small stuff. My bird visitors in my dreamscape reminded me to hold onto my innocent sense of awe and to sing with my homies and to not give a fuck what anyone else thinks of me. Not their path, journey or destiny.

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9:43 pm I just had spirit speak to me in Spanish. I am all dressed up, made up and sitting on my couch, ready for a night out. I don’t speak Spanish. I only know a few words. lol. It’s very strange. I haven’t been out dancing for 5 weeks. So this is right on point. The Mama T needs extra strength and encouragement.

Never cede, never quit, never yield. My favourite club is Rockin’ and De Mama T is rollin’.

18 July 2024

Cold windy day albeit sunny. I took Charley’s cage outside and scrubbed it thoroughly. It was filthy. I cleaned the plastic floor coverings also. It was a huge effort with my lungs but I fought through.

Ratih cleaned the floors and bathroom. She’s had a small bingle where some idiot reversed into her drivers door. Luckily she wasn’t hurt.

18 July 2023

2:19 am I just finished copying across my journal. I am exhausted.

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18 July 2022

11:11, 1:11, now 8:11pm. What are the angels banging on about now?! Lol

18 July 2021

11:11 am. Just woke up. I must have needed the rest after yesterday’s burst of creativity. Lol. Time to get up and see what today gifts me!

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18 July 2020

I just finished dictating my Kabbalah notes from 2001 into WORD. My god and goddess but that man who taught the classes was a filthy misogynistic creep.

Some of the lessons were valuable but I used to have to eat my own liver with the constant violations of my womanhood. Or creepy comments about my vagina and veiled threats as he was friends with Davidson. They were all so disgustingly enmeshed, toxic and depraved.

I wonder if there will ever be a safe environment for me to learn Kabbalah in? (Or any other kind of study?) hmmm.

But I gained much from standing in my own Light and Integrity. Those lessons felt like the Hunger games, but I rose above it until I could not put myself through that abuse anymore then quit.

Perhaps that was the Teaching: HAShem putting me in dens of iniquity and with depraved, salivating men so I could gain mastery over my own trauma issues from my original wounds.

Not for the faint hearted people and oh, warning…warning. Do not try this at home!

Haha evil fuckers.

I am so glad my life is better now. Getting free of monsters was not so simple, given they harassed me and stalked me for several years at Chanukah functions.

But I proved myself more powerful than they with their ridiculous petty abusive pretensions.

My grandfather (whom I never met) must have really given me extra heart, soul and courage in those days. I was determined to learn. A distraction from the constant unabated domestic terrorism I was also experiencing at that time.

Mostly I just learned that most humans SUCK and are vacuous, cowardly and vile.

It was not good for me to have that negative reinforcement as I had already learned that in infancy.

But the gods pushed me to show up, stand up and honour my own Light.

And so I did!

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“Lets talk CRONE and how she’s dying..

The Crone is a woman who no longer menstruates physically, she is now a fully embodied wise woman. With many moons behind her and the experience she has acquired, she can now turn her attention to being a guide for the young. Being free in her body - no longer worried about pregnancy, pretense or deep fluctuations in hormones, she has come to a serene place of acceptance.. an embodied dance with the rhythms and energetics of life.

I have been guided by grandmothers with silver hair as magnificent as the moonlight for a very long time in my dreams, it has helped me develop a keen appreciation for the Crone, it has allowed me to see aging as an exquisite and delicate gift. It has helped me make healthy choices in the now and embrace with subtle anticipation the day when I too will be a grandmother to the children of our world.

In ancient times and cultures, the Crone was revered. The Crone was consulted for matters of importance and well being of tribes. Children and grown alike would come for advice and storytelling to the skirts of the Crone. The gray hair was looked at as stripes of honor and the wrinkles as badges of courage and experience. When a woman’s blood flow would stop coming it was said she no longer needed it, as she had accumulated the wisdom of the moon enough to embody it and invite it to stay. These wise women understood the importance of death and renewal at such a cellular level they no longer needed to be reminded every month.

In todays culture, the Crone is in great danger of being crushed. In a society where faster, better, younger is the theme and tattooed into our consciousness every day… The elders are very often overlooked and seen as nuisance, annoying, slow, their beauty is smudged over and often shoved into care homes or confined to a bedroom in the house, Google has now usurped the throne of the wise one.

We see Maiden archetype everywhere- the endless pursuit of youth.. From a multibillion dollar market of beauty products to the movie screens.. Everyone wants to be young, plump and fresh. We see the Mother archetype- the caring loving mother and as Lara Owen mentions in her book, although limited- it is even revered in religion.

But the Crone.. where is she?

She is hidden, she is stashed away… all that power hidden in her belly and nowhere to go. She has been pushed to abhor her post menopausal state, as though it is a condemnation rather than a blessing, as if not being able to birth children is now a curse that spills inward into a barren womb.. All that wisdom rejected, unacknowledged, dishonored in exchange for the pursuit of staying young and ‘fertile’ only to be ridiculed and mocked by a society that in paradoxical cruelty repudiates the Crone as well.

No, the Crone cannot expect to be accepted without first accepting herself, knowing that her bones are indeed each day becoming more and more one with the earth...

The silenced Crone cannot demand a place in a society where she too has helped exile this archetype.

This is why we need to speak of Her, the Crone- the holy guide that lives and will one day emerge from you and when it does… you will have a choice: will you let her in and feast on the banquet of your holy life experience or will you shut the door in her face and leave her out to starve in hopes that the maiden and mother, whom have left, will someday come back.

Many times I have wanted to write about the Crone even create for it but I am held back by the misleading belief that I have to be one to speak of it.

‘No more...' my sleeping crone has whispered, ‘you must begin to pave the way for my visit.. planting seeds along the path that may bloom for my homecoming.’

Resting and gestating in me, she is harnessing strength to come and live fully, to guide, to teach, to dance, to remind, to slow me down, to make me softer, to be reflected on my skin and in my gaze when the time comes.

So in the meantime, I will speak of the Crone to our children and to anyone that will hear - I will honor the magnificently wise women I am surrounded by, sisters hiding their beauty behind veils. I will remind them, I will whisper, I will nudge, I will invite….

‘Take off your veil! You are holy sacred wise woman, you are here, you are a message… now is your time to guide!’

~Anabel Vizcarra

Sacred Dreams

image: Whang-od Oggay”

18 July 2019

Trigger warning: sexuality.

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I woke up, after being in pain throughout the night. Same pain. Not shifting. Hmmm.

Anyway I had intense dreams that I was airlifted to another hospital. Jarrod was by my side but I kept losing consciousness but I had watched medical personnel frantically working on my drain site (where pain is still present).

I watched them looking up at xrays, and rushing about, then passed out and I woke up (in the Dream) to being on the edge of the sea, on a beach under some sort of awning that extended from a house.

I was very ill but got up to paddle my feet in the ocean. I turned and looked up the beach to see a woman approaching. I did not recognise her. She came right up to me and said “You know me, I am your neighbour from across the road”.

I still did not recognise her (although she looked a bit like a woman who danced rather too wildly with me at the casino). I smiled and lied and said “I remember you!” She asked me how I was feeling? I thought this was incredibly kind as she was a virtual stranger.

I replied “Dying but all good, I have been dying from the moment I first drew breath and all of life leads to this point”. I smiled. She embraced me and said “I came all this way to see you. I wanted so much to see you!” I was still confused. “Where am I?”

Jarrod arrived from almost out of nowhere. I had not seen him on the beach. He said “Tanya, they shipped you from the hospital. They did not know what to do. They never saw anyone’s gallbladder put up such a fight! There were surges of electricity and sparks were flying. Your body fought so hard even when you were unconscious!

They don’t know how to treat you. No one does! So they have brought you to this isolated cove so you can die in peace. Or heal. You are the only one that holds the power over your body!”

I walk away to process this news. I put my feet in the gentle waves that lull upon the greyish-coloured sand. Where am I? This sand is not the colour of Byron, or Noosa. I keep wondering. Where the fuck am I?

Then I wake up. In pain and I almost laugh to myself. Still fighting. Still living. Still blowing my own mind. Still loving.

Other memories flash to my mind. My first French kiss at 13. A set up by a school friend. A little handmaiden who had lured me to meet these boys. I was not interested but I was staying at her house so I had no choice but to follow her. But this was no boy. 18. Old enough to vote and go to war.

So I sat with my friend on the grass but she quickly went off with her boy. I was stuck with this young man. Trying to be polite but not really “there”.

He kissed me. It was nauseating. His tongue lolling inside my mouth and almost down my tonsils. I was in shock. I removed myself mentally as I had learned to since early childhood but my body was rigid.

He sat up. “Did you like that?” I replied with a voice that was flat and tasted of Death “Not particularly”. I got up, dusted myself off. Walked away. Ghastly. But it was my first empowerment. Speaking my truth and walking away.

Curiousity had led me astray. Wanting to be an adult woman, a sexual being, a mother one day. And for what??? Hahaha. To be sold out again and again, even by other girls and women.

The next adult kiss when I was 17 was at a nightclub. I know. I know. I was underage. There for the dancing. So convinced of my ugliness that I would not be approached by any male. (But I was beautiful and desirable and sensual and did not even know it!)

Some dude danced with me, seemingly innocently at first then planted one on me. Ew! Ew! I felt sickened to my core, with an entire nightclub watching. I stepped away and wiped my face. Deeply humiliated. I ran to the bathroom to wash my face and retch.

Then I walked up to my friend whom I had known since high school (another traitor!). I said “I am going home!” She wanted to stay. I said “Please come home with me. They only want to fuck you here!”

She refused. Up for the fucking. I went home and vomited. I worried about her all night. I felt guilty for leaving her with those creeps. Next day I rang her and she said she went home with a guy and they played Scrabble all night. Yeah....right. I had worried more for her than for myself. I never went out with her again. Let her do her own hunting for the cunting.

So imagine my surprise when I finally received my third adult kiss with my first bf (later husband...) and I liked kissing him. I was 17 and a half. My hormones must have finally kicked in. Jesus!

So I thought liking kissing him meant I was in love. Ummm. Well sorta. Kinda. I am still in denial about that.

So I stuck with him out of fear. My sexuality was only for him and as he was a selfish lover it did not fully blossom until 2 years after our divorce when I was 32.

While everyone else had been fucking madly (or madly fucking?) and carelessly carefree I was an oppressed uptight traumatised born-again virgin.

Then all hell broke loose.

Now at 54 I have been celibate on and off for 16 years. I don’t gift my body unless I want to. I haven’t wanted to for years. Except one time last year just to check I was still a vital vibrant woman. Got that out of the way and back to celibacy. (“Dead Elvis/Lemonade Man” was a cheap bore and I did know better).

I like my life this way. Less complicated. I feel less used/betrayed/abused. No sexual partner ever loved me. Not even my husband. Blech. The chutzpah, his “regrets”. Not based in reality.

My heart belongs to only one. It’s timeless and endless. The one man I wanted. Really wanted. Stymied and sabotaged by envious vicious bitches. I sabotaged too. I loved too much. Like a dickhead.

But no good crying over spilt milk. I know when I die that I tried to exist in a world of depravity, naïveté and betrayal. I stood up for myself and protected myself as best I could (even in my psychedelic dreams).

I meant nothing to most people, especially in my core family. I was declared dead. Hated, scorned, betrayed and abused. But I got up. I stood up and hell, sometimes, on that casino dance floor...I even fucking Flew.

There were a few who saw me and recognised my spirit. A few who loved me and treated me with honour. Those people mean the world to me. You know who you are 🙂.

So even in my dreams I am dying but you know what? I am also living. Well. Righteously! Ebulliently!

You can’t bottle this. Effervescence. The scent of a woman that kept getting up. Hooo hahhhh!

A dream and a kiss.

Update 18 July 2025: Glad to say I am no longer in that shadowy veil between life and death. Life has chosen me …for a while. Until next time some dumb evil perverted Motherfucker tries to “kill” me or rape my soul. But I have a feeling that I am well on my way to a better safer happier life than I have ever yet experienced.

Time will tell. I have the gods pushing me forwards now and with them by my side I know….no one will ever dare fuck with The Tanya again. I have fought too long and too hard to tolerate any lacklustre envious curs ever again. The price of freedom…extraordinarily exorbitant but so worth it :-)

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18 July 2018

Well I achieved one thing today. I cleaned the copper collection in my kitchen. Lovely and bright and shiny. (Now to manifest a matching mood).

I also took Bobo and Charlie bird for a quick walk around the block. They really enjoyed themselves. I picked a grevillea bloom for Charlie to gnaw on. So he was delighted about that.

Bobo sniffed everything. Peed on every garbage bin and did a poo. That is happiness for a dog!

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Feeling very drained and exhausted and unmotivated today. Just blah. Tooth cavity still sore. Probably a factor in my feeling so mundane.

I am looking forward to seeing Lyn tomorrow afternoon. I hope I feel better by then.

Every day is just a constant hurdy gurdy ride. Some days I am formidably fantastic and others...slip sliding away.

In the meantime I am enjoying some sunshine, lying in my hammock and watching Gaia.com on my laptop.

Blessed be, Mama T will be back soon.

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Well I achieved one thing today. I cleaned the copper collection in my kitchen. Lovely and bright and shiny. (Now to manifest a matching mood).

I also took Bobo and Charlie bird for a quick walk around the block. They really enjoyed themselves. I picked a grevillea bloom for Charlie to gnaw on. So he was delighted about that.

Bobo sniffed everything. Peed on every garbage bin and did a poo. That is happiness for a dog!

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18 July 2017

Stressful but productive day. I locked myself out of my house and car by leaving the keys inside as I carefully shut the front door. Grrr. I was on my way out to buy a beautiful garden pot I bought on FB marketplace.

So I had to ask my neighbour Timsa to help me break into the back door of my house. He was happy to help but got confused about not having a crow bar. So I assured him we could do it with garden weed digging out tools and a big screwdriver. And so we did.

Then my iPhone GPS tried to send me to Gold Coast so I had to get off at Rochedale shops, stop, recalibrate etc etc. I finally made it to woman's house to buy the pots.

Then recalibrated to find Rochedale produce (which is next to IKEA) then the drive home with heavy pots and laying mash in boot but pots rattled around and I stressed the whole way back that they were breaking.

All good.

Next job (can wait until tomorrow as my nerves are shattered) will be to get spare key cut, buy potting mix for new pot and plant something nice in them.

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Having a late lunch with the delicious Greek lasagna that Jarrod cooked for me last night. Delicious! Thank you Jarrod! Love you!

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18 July 2016

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I am gradually decluttering my life. It feels good to eliminate excess dross from my house, body and mind. purge so I can surge.

I remember burning all the documents, photos and other evil lying bullshit by Buck Scherer that I had collected from my mother's house in 2008 for evidence. 4 bags of poisonous vile shit. It was so painful to go through but Lyn (who helped me) and I found some interesting insights into his sick greedy perverted mind.

(He had even written to Elizabeth Taylor hoping to get in touch with Rock Hudson whom he claimed was a cousin of his (Lol!) and another letter penned to Aristotle Onassis. But he's used me of Bipolar Disorder?! Um, do you see me begging wealthy stars or famous people for money?)

After we laughed until we cried, the enormity of the betrayal of the Adult Guardian letting that vile con artist abuser keep control over my mother and her finances really hit home with a bone crushing incisiveness. Yes. Evil is fêted in this world.

So here I sit with Stuff. Worthless white elephant stuff as we are all waking up to anti-consumerism and greed. We are all aware that nobody needs 4 cars or 5 televisions. Or walkin wardrobes crammed to the gills with clothes we never wear because we can't fucking find them. Lmao!

Yeah. I still have way too much stuff! Too many books (my treasures that fell from other minds). Under my house is crammed full with Crystal's former life also.

Some days I think I should just burn it all and run away, hair flying in the wind, screaming, streaming into the Void. But stuff keeps me anchored like a tent pin to the ground. Like a tent pin through my neck.

Some of my treasures I will never part with (too beautiful or too hard won). But much of it needs to be released and realised.

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We went to the dog park. Beauregard had a fantastic time. Including lying died own in deep muddy puddles. So I have given him another bath. Oh my!

We came home after an hour or so, as he got snarky and aggressive with the other dogs which he does when he is exhausted. But he had had so many friends today it was all very good.

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Trigger warning: revenge.

When I look back on the past 6 years since my mother died, Courtenay dumped me then after a year of epic grieving, I put on my boots and took charge of my life, socialised in strange places (where my angels sent me in one of their missions that I still don't know what that was about -but what a trip).

It ended badly, of course. Nasty men threatening me with a teeny tiny lady pistol. But my true friends in the heirarchy were never told how I was impolitely side-lined. It is all good. I had a ball! Playing pool, laughing and meeting interesting characters.

For my part I was a good influence on my few women friends there. Actively protected them as by the gods, one of them was green. Far out!

The other one badly needed dentures, so I told her in my usual matter of fact agony aunt way. She was a pretty little thing with shattered teeth. Before I was threatened (which I still believe was to keep me safe only a few months before serious shit went down) she drew me into the bathroom and proudly showed me her raw gums, finally free of the dental carnage. She was so happy and proud.

I was for her too. I bet she looks gorgeous with her new dentures. As I had told her "Your face is your fortune and teeth are the first thing anyone notices about you". Mine cost me $10K of my small inheritance. But so worth it after the horrendous mess the Qld public dental system made of my front teeth. Now I can laugh and smile without cringing. People treat you with more respect when you have nice looking teeth too.

Anyway, after that time, celebrating my freedom while stressing about my will dispute, I started frequenting Irish Murphies. I had a ball there too, for a couple of years. Until the cliquey fucks got envious/threatened or whatever. Creeps.

Also I would not tolerate the misogyny in that place. Fuck us in our Pussy indeed. Filthy disrespectful rape culture bastards. So I was banned for life for calling them out on their bullshit.

So now I have a hex on that place. Haha. All good. So now that place is slowly unravelling and the band that was their biggest drawcard are going to be playing at the casino. Oh dear! Oops. How long will they keep their foul trashy mouth under control?

I will be watching and waiting. It will be like watching a train wreck. Lmao. Every time they abuse women (who pay for our own drinks and deserve to be treated with respect as much as any male patron) they fuck themselves in their own arse.

Karma! Is a Bitch. I think they will learn in time. If you want people to support you? Treat them Right. Women are people. Yeah. Some of us are powerful people indeed. Only we don't always know it. If we did know it for sure, we would be more than a little bit Dangerous, Darlings.

Anyway the past 6 years have been a watershed for me. I have liberated myself from the shackles of so much hatred. I have stood on my own feet. Been counted. Even loved by a few good people. I have had some fun.

I have suffered immensely (as always!) but I have also been seen and heard and at times validated. Things are slowly improving for women in the Brisbane CBD after my epic fighting with the system and police. All on CCTV. I wonder if they still get off on my little complex PTSD escapades. Lmao! What a life!

One Englishman I met one night, compared me to Boudiccea. He also thought I was “a Kentish Girl” which is insane as I am a NZer with a strong kiwi accent still. Anyway he thought I was a "bloody Legend".

I don't know about that. I am just bloody angry with abusers most of the time. But he was kind to me. All a woman like me wants is kindness and respect. It is not much to ask for but a rare commodity these days in our New Age of Barbarism.

Much later I fell in love with another Englishman. Why???????????????

Perhaps because he was such a gentle soul. I need a calm stable devoted man. Instead I need to keep myself calm and stable and be devoted to myself. That way I won't get mired in grief and disappointment by any more players, headfuckers and their minions. Been there, done that and got the final visitations to prove it. Hahahaha.

Anyway, time marches on and my life is ready for a new direction. I wonder how/what/where/when it will manifest?

My angels have my back but by G-D it would be nice if they just let me be happy, peaceful, surrounded by real authentic genuine love for once in my God-forsaken impoverished life. Enough. Or better yet more than enough to sustain me on my last journey. Sustain, bless and ennoble me.

Cheers, fanx a lot, Chums.

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Full moon tonight. No wonder my emotions are pressurised. Need a good Howling!

Correction: it will reach its zenith on Wednesday. But the energies are intense. I can already feel them.

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11.51 pm. Time to Schluff. Exhausted. Laila Tov! Good night. The Moon is Mine, yours and everyone's but she can be a pull on the emotions.

18 July 2015

Best day ever! Happy dance! (If only my bank would retrieve my $300 from Coles Express and Select). Then my life would be perfection.

18 July 2014

3.24 am. Home from a night out with Jo at Irish Murphy's and Casino. I danced with Jabba and my awesome friends. Sore tootsies but happy Cabootie :-)

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Wellington weather minus the driving rain. Almost feels like home. :-(

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Slept all day. Grief over unrequited wig slowly easing. Must go out, have fun and not be seduced by anymore Narcissists or Sociopaths and faking Headfuckers.

Ahhh Sweet Misery! Lmao! I am loving my life even if my heart is Duct-taped together. I just let it out on a very long string to play like a Yo-yo and if I don't like the way my heart is being treated I reef it back in, and punch it back in my chest.

My heart is a bit too 'playful'. This last time it got me unexpectedly. I was actually not even being all that nice to the former love interest. I was paying out on him Big Time then one night Boom! I was a Goner. Psy sighs.

Love should always be a pleasant surprise methinks. Now to get over the bad case of the heartache blues like the 'flu..eventually you get over it. :-)

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18 July 2013

So earlier this evening I was feeling blah then a friend rang me to dump on me her blahs and as her blahs are pretty much resonant with my blahs I commiserated with her to my detriment. Lol. Moral of story? Don't answer the phone when feeling fragile unless you know for sure it's a positive person!

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My microwave died today. A silent graceful death. It heated my pasta then just blinked out. I thought it was a fuse at first but fuses are fine. I must say I am glad it didn't blow up with a bing and a bang. Scary!

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18 July 2011

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I have four very happy Siamese Fighter Fish as I changed their water today. They look all shiny and new, and doing this weird fishy shimmy with their fins.

They are also really enjoy the heating pads I bought them as I was worried this Winter would kill them. Warm Fish, clean water, and their Beautiful Human servant. Life is Good!

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My darling Jarrod visited with Harvey today. Bella squealed with happiness to see Harvey. They both discovered that I have a possum sleeping in my possum box, at long last. So cute, but Harvey is a very good tree-climber lol, so we had to make sure he didn't attack the possum.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon, tying the dendrobiums down so hopefully Possum won't dislodge them again, and tying the Vanilla Orchid to the tree, cos it's not growing much and has only two small root tendrils poking out, so I figure if it is tied close to the tree bark it might cling better and grow better. Here's hoping!

I also wove the Jasmine vine onto the chair a bit more. It's full of tiny new buds so will bloom soon I think. Hopefully by next year it will cover the chair properly. That's my plan lol!

Update 2020: Damn, both the dendobrium and the vanilla orchid died.. but the Jasmine is thriving, although it no longer grows on the rattan wicker chair (that rotted out too!) but grows up the golden rain tree.

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I am bored, I am fractious, I need to play, I have dogbooked, youtubed, texted, imbibed copious liquiorice toffees (which is not a healthy food group for dinner) watched True Blood, anything to procrastinate from the neverending sludgery and drudgery that awaits me at the kitchen sink! I am bored, but not enough to kow tow to urbania and be responsible for my own disgrace.

I have decided that when I am rich and richer...I will buy one of those magnificent machines that are good dirty dish hiders....that eventually rinse and repeat.

Sigh! Psychedelic Dreamer is Manifesting again, and I don't want a Festy Man to do the dishes...I want the latest technology thank you very much.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons