Memories: 20 July 2025

20 July 2025

7:02 am Happy Sunday! Another day in “Paradise”. It looks like another sunny day is gifted to us. It’s cold but it’s winter. 6 more weeks and we will be complaining of the scorching heat again.

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My handsome talented friend and brother Jarrod finally got in touch today. We talked for three hours. Just like old times. I am relieved and happy now. I thought he had drifted off and abandoned me too. Glad that I was wrong to assume the worst.

True friends and family hold like glue 🙂

20 July 2024

3:17 am home from a great and wild night of dancing. Ramjet finished the night with another of my most favourite songs: 7 nation army. They couldn’t hold me back.

I yelled out to the 18 yo maori kid who was sitting near me “Boy, come and join me in the dance!” And so he did and together we both went OFF. The magick just blossomed exponentially. Amazing! He was a lovely respectful kid too. We shook hands to thank each other for The Dance!

When the song finished Juddy quipped to me “well that was fun!” I kissed his hand in deep gratitude. For the music, for the wildness, for his paternalistic protection of me over many years of dancing myself into trance.

For the healing which we all so deeply will be gifting to each other in the coming months and years. Holding each other precious. Cherishing each other. Blowing full vibrancy back into our bodies, minds and spirits. Courage. Heart (corazon!) Arohanui. So much much love.

Shamans, healers, trustworthy doctors, ancestors that love us and angels: I humbly request that you protect my beloved ones. Mama T has spoken and will be dancing her prayers for as long as there is magick left inside my soul. Expect miracles. Love is the law, love under Will. Amen v’ selah.

PS I danced even though I had sciatica pain. I pushed myself through it so now I’m in a hot bath before bed. Mustang Kwe is powerful even in her older age fragility. Lmao!

20 July 2023

I woke up just before Ratih arrived to clean at 10 am. I was having a repeat dream of having given away Bobo to some rich woman who lived on a hill in a street that had tramlines. I was walking up the street looking into shop front windows. All very eclectic posh shops.

I was feeling contented but missing my dog. Suddenly he came bounding up to me, with his tongue out, all doggy smiles. The odd thing was his fur was white and curly like a Maltese.

His new owner eyed me suspiciously. “what are you doing here? Have you come to take Beauregard back?” I looked at her with a serene sense of loss. “No, I was just in the area. Do you mind if I visit with him for a while? I miss him terribly!”

So she invites me into her home. Very elegant stylish, interior designed home. I look around me. Admired everything. Then played with my dog. She left me to it.

I woke up in shock. I looked at Bobo. I said “Beau, I will never willingly give you away! You are my dog until one of us dies. Hear me!” I still felt rattled. It’s the second or possibly third time I have had this dream.

It’s a sunny dream, full of golden light. The houses are elegant and well cared for and unlike our current 3D reality, not painted putrid boring depressing shades of grey. In fact they are all painted cream or lighter brighter colours.

The shops have beautiful goods in them. It felt like a street I used to shop in, in Melbourne that was very posh. I forget the name of it. But the way the shops are nestled on a hill with tramlines, also reminds me of Wellington. The light felt like a sunny summer’s late afternoon. Warm but slowly descending into evening.

The trauma of giving away my pets is an old one. Having had to give my Dalmatian away to former staff members (traitorous pigs!) who actually brutalised my dog which is a guilt and a shame I long harbour in my subconscious.

So anyway I hear Ratih getting out of her car so I bounce out of bed, still in my semi-dream state to let her in, and greet the day.

She is such a joyful gentle woman, a sweetheart. “Good morning!”, she says cheerfully! “Good morning”, I reply. Today is gonna be a good day. Despite the CPTSD dreams.

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11:11am I have been telling Ratih about my father in law and how we met before I ever met his useless verkachte son. How Harry Arons came to rescue me when I was 15 as my horse (really only a pony!) Asfaloth had thrown me off her back and I was lying in the grass, a bit dazed, staring at the blue sky, wondering if I was dead?

How after I met him again to discuss the possibility of marriage with that man, his father remembered me from that earlier event and how much he admired and loved my spirit.

Then I told her about the “Habibi Club” at BPJC and later Kadimah where I went to pray in great kavannah and sincerity to God but because I was in the prime of my life (and divorced!), the men (all married and unavailable so they thought it was fun!) would follow me around like lost lovers and generally made a sweet pest of themselves.

I would adjure them “Where is your wife? I want to see her next week!”

“My wife is not Jewish” they would reply. “No matter” I would seethe, “Jewish, not Jewish…she is still your wife! Bring her. There is too much heat in this kitchen”.

Integrity is everything and I was no schlumpe even though my female sexuality was probably heightened because I was in perimenopause and a little bit lonely. I had the pink cheeks of freed women everywhere after decades of hell so of course I had a certain allure…like one of those rotting pitcher plants that devours insects.

Yes…looking back…if Mama T were truly evil, she could have easily devoured them all in such a way that they would welcome it. Habibis…my Darlings. Hannibal or Habibi? Who got devoured and left for dead in dreadful obsequious poverty and trauma issues…but me?!

However we live to dance again!

20 July 2021

Patient Name: TANYA

DOB: 12/04/1965

Swab collection date: 19/07/2021

Result: Covid-19 virus NEGATIVE

Tele-consult your doctor for interpretation / advice / next steps applicable in your particular circumstances.

4Cyte Pathology

So those bastard vets were wrong to deny me the right to be with Socks at his passing. Utterly disgraceful.

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20 July 2019

I went dancing last night. I managed okay but the pain got uncomfortable after 2 hours. I stayed until 2 am when the band finished then went to the 7:11 to buy a coconut water (good!) and raspberry licorice straps (baddd!!!). I hung out with my friend Katrina for a while. Then I went home, utterly exhausted with a grinding pain in my drain site.

I woke up feeling physically stronger but with a headache I still have not shaken off. But I am content. Life is good.

Early in the night some drunk woman lunged backwards towards me where I was sitting on the edge of the stage in my “spot”. Without even thinking I reached up, firmly planted my hand at her back and shoved her off me, propelling her forwards.

She muttered “Sorry” but I was in a quiet rage as she had been trying to get my attention and I had been ignoring her. Anyway after she was lurched forwards she left me the fuck alone.

It hurt me more than it hurt her as my side ached from the effort of pushing a grown woman off me. But anyway, what can The Tanya expect when she puts herself out into the world with drunk incoherent adult “children”. I had feared being jostled by some loutish man so it was ironic the “attack” came from a woman.

Afterwards, I carried on with my night and had a very good time. In spite of everything.

I might be “wounded” but I rise above it. Each and every day. (Even with still indulging in sugar at the end of the night!)

I had one drink, a mocktail pina colada. But I think I should have drunk more water. Ergo the headache today.

All good. Life is good. It’s a beautiful day outside today.

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20 July 2018

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Awesome Friday. I woke up happy and did a very unusual Thing. Vacuumed (and gasp...!) Mopped all my floors. Did washing. Tired of living in my own filth which was exponentially propagating itself in a rather perturbing way.

Then I got a surprise visit from my beautiful Julie. We had a lovely cuppa.

Getting ready for Ecstatic Dance tonight.

Need to pop to the shops to buy cat litter.

Busy but happy day!

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I had another wonderful experience at Ecstatic Dance. Blindfold trance dance. Amazing.

Today has been such a great day, especially seeing Julie and all the lovely things that were gifted to me. Healing and blossoming and allowing new potentialities to arrive in my life.

Patiently waiting to exhale: no, that is my asthma wheeze lol.

All good. Exhausted but happy.

Laila tov Kulam. Shabbat Shalom!

20 July 2017

My psychiatrist is amazed at my survival. And the more I think of it...so am I? How did I do it?

As a child it was my pure heart and pure faith in invisible beings. G-d and the elementals and pagan gods. Many hours spent sitting on a rock at the furthest outreach to the sea, showered with churning Southerly seaspray, intermittently begging King Neptune, the ancient Greco-Roman God of the sea, to take me into his watery arms. But he did not and I, too afraid to drown myself, held on, another day.

Later, slightly older, a 14 year old girl, stomping through the hills behind Happy Valley, searching, interminably searching for my wild (not properly broken) mare, Asfaloth. Up steep mountains and down into valleys. Sometimes for miles.

Always praying to the ancient Maori gods, Tanawha? Gods of sea, and sky of Mother Earth...save me. Save me. Bring me through this life to freedom, true love, happiness. "Hush Child, time takes time and we have so much to do! Be patient!"

Earth tremors so strong I nearly fell off one mountain side. Thrown off my feet. I lay still quietly, praying that the fault line I walked upon would not open as a chasm and swallow me whole.

No wonder the horses were missing. Horses, like most animals sense earth changes hours even days before we humans. Eventually I found them, high on a hill, overlooking the sea.

Asfaloth, so psychically bonded to me, she raised her head in greeting. Hello Mama! I was expecting you! Now catch me if you can. A dance we did many times. A horsey joke on her part. Wild things, make my heart sing. You're my everything. You make everything...worth it.

Trudging through the grasses past gorse bushes that prickled into my flesh, even through my denim jeans. (The prickles would inflame and push themselves out within 3 days), my recalcitrant mare led on a halter as I dare not ride her on her own territory. Not until I got her back down from the hilly ranges to the homestead below.

Fed her apples and bran and molasses and brushed her and fussed over her. Then I might attempt to ride her. But alas, mostly no. So I led her yet more kilometres to the beach at Owhiro Bay, or further to my home at Island Bay. Then turning her nose back to the direction of her home, the farm, she would let me ride her, cantering joyously.

My mother was right. Asfaloth was just a Big Pet. But she was mine and I was hers and in her own way she loved me. A gift bought for me by Uncle Trevor, my paedophile godfather as a ploy to keep me bound to him. But the horse and I were bound only to each other, for a time. Until I married and human children came between us.

Love came down to me from the gods and angels and fickle fae who let me ride through life, through storms, through ghastly events and past shitty horrid people, people I had loved and trusted, people who tried to harness me and abused me.

On and on I rode. Laid down to die for a very long time. So long that I was a zombie. No longer running or even walking but sleeping and shuffling and stalking my way through that ghastly phase of my life.

Then the zombie had to die. I might have killed it with my own willpower and zest for life. Amid strife, amid ignorance, amid sexual predators and sexual violence, in spite of poverty and trauma.

The zombie transmogrified into another creature of the night. A fighter. A dancer. A lover of Life. Shadow men came to watch her. They wanted her. Desired her. But they could not lead her home. Nay, the gods would not allow it.

“Our preciousss! We fought for her too long, to live long enough to triumph, to bless and be blessed, to let mere males subvert her." Backhanded booby prize of living for freedom.

We took her money, her home, even her safety but we could never completely destroy her Love of freedom, of self and the earth. Her love of a man who feared her. Her love of her Holy One and the gods. Her partners in the Sublime.

Funny, innit?! The cross we bear that was not of our desire. Not. Even. My. Religion, that befouled faith of martyrdom! What would Jesus (the Jew) think of The Tanya? What do the other deities really think of her?

I know not. But I know this. Survival is for those who pay with ancestral bonds and angelic binds and always always always (Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh - Holy holy holy) -we rise on tippy toes in the quavering quivering quaking awesomeness of angels and other messengers of G-d, humbled like little children caught with fingers in the cookie jar), survival always comes down to Luck.

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Something really creepy and annoying is interfering in my book. I had it saved on a flash drive that I had kept safe on a key ring. Now the key ring is missing. I can't find it anywhere. So with that the flash drive is lost. Grrr.

It may be ok though. I still have an external hard drive and I think the book is still on my laptop. So all is not lost. I just have to find the external hard drive and copy it across. But how the flash drive key ring thingy could just vanish I have no idea.

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ahhhh just found the flash drive. Not on a key ring either. Just floating around me computer desk. Hmmm. Thank you, you mischievous fae for giving my words back to me and at the same time making me look like an idiot. lmao.

PS I fucking hate technology. It drives me bonkers!

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Omg yum! Home made Japanese curry!

20 July 2016

3.01 am Home from a lovely night with Lyn. She cooked me dinner, sweet and sour chicken stirfry with rice. Yummy! Then we sat by the fire (burning out the old stump of an old tree).

We chatted about many things and as always she calmed my embattled soul with her wise loving care and always staunch support. I am so blessed to have such a genuine caring friend.

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I slept until 2 pm. Then hit the ground running to shower and dress, hurl Beauregard into the car, even carried my shoes with me, and a hot mug of tea, to arrive just in time for my psych appointment.

Then I stopped off on the way home to get petrol, bought fish and chips and took Beau to the dog park. He was in a grumpy mood but loved seeing the other dogs.

Now home. My asthma is very bad again. I wonder if I will ever get well again? It is all so draining.

It promises to be a very warm winter's day tomorrow. 27 degrees celsius! No wonder the scrub turkey is building his mound early. He thinks it is Spring.

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Tonight, under the influence of that glorious moon, I finally made the Key Lime Pie. Then painted my mannaquin arm with glow in the dark resin and tried to fill some holes in my staff with more resin but it leaked everywhere. Now the Lounge is full of toxic fumes so I had to put Beauregard to bed in his crate in the kitchen as I worried he might get affected.

I have done some washing too. No need of a heater tonight. It is beautifully comfortable. I have opened the front door so try to dissipate some of the resin fumes. (My Lungs are already bad without adding more crap to them).

I might finish off the pie soon, with whipped cream and partake of some. Yum!

20 July 2015

I just pulled off two ticks from my beloved Mushu. One still engorging, the other was dead. I hope it wasn't a paralysis tick or he will die. So far he is purring happily. I will have to keep an eye on him.

They must be Bush brown ticks as I have pulled a few off him in recent weeks. I must locate his favourite spot in the garden as none of the other cats have had any ticks. Perhaps he sleeps in the possum box which would be ready source for ticks as Possums carry them. Hmmm!

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Trigger warning: cptsd trauma processing.

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This morning's dreams were fraught, stressful PTSD ones. Not the sweet flavoursome delectables of yesterday. Hummph! My brain!

I dreamt that Uncle Cees once again made a move on me, so right then and there I phoned emergency 000 and stated to the voice on the other end, "I want you to register a sex offender" in this officious flat sinister tone of voice. Without argument they said the police would be there within half an hour.

My mother was in the dream but she was dotty and I worried who would look after her with Cees incarcerated. Then the dream shifted focus into their toilet which was rather alarmingly not hooked up to the downpipes which I didn't realise until I had a massive pee and it washed out onto the carpet.

My mother, rather dotty, matter of factly stated "Don't worry! It happens all the time" but I spent the next few mindblips of the dream dutifully cleaning up my urine from the carpet. Then the police arrived and I stated Cees was inside with my mother and daughter "but I never leave him alone with my children as he's a paedophile, you know." The dream ended.

This was actually true in real life. I never let them sleep overnight. He had this relationship with Jasmine where he kept lollies in his drawer cos like me as a child, she was a fossicker.

He would brag about how she was such a little thief. I said that I didn't approve of him teaching her to be a criminal. He said "Don't be stupid, I put the lollies there deliberately!" I told her never to be in the bedroom alone with him.

She said "I know, Mummy". I don't think he ever molested her as I told him and any other man that came into my family orbit that I would cut their throats if any of them touched my children.

After my 15 month relationship with Terry broke up, a woman passing my house told me she knew he had molested kids in the neighbourhood and it was good I broke up with him. My blood ran cold. I said "Why the fuck didn't you tell me this before? I had no idea. " She shrugged, said, “Thought you knew!" I yelled "What the fuck? And put my kids at risk?"

I ran inside and asked both my girls about the few times I had been asked to help out in Gila's restaurant and had left him to look after them.

They said "Nah Mum, he never did anything, in fact he acted really strangely". I said "What did he do?" They said he would lock himself in my bedroom and stay there until I came home from work!

I did about 3 shifts working for Gila but each time I was terrified for my children. I really didn't trust him and quit, but the thought he had opportunity sickened me. My mother and Gila had pressured me to take the job which I found suspicious.

They stated I was lazy, a bludger and needed to get off my butt to better support my kids. It never entered my embattled head that they were helping create opportunity for him to have close access to my girls. But the anxiety at work, and Gila's nightmarish harrassment meant I checked out again. My only concern was to keep my kids safe.

When I branched out and started taking Kabbalah classes with Emmanuel (another dodgy sleazebag), on Tuesday evenings, I would warn the kids to lock all the doors and not answer the phone, except from me.

At one lesson they rang me in a panic as they had received a call from Emmanuel's friend. They hadn't answered but recognized his number. I told them (aged 13 and 15) that I would be home soon.

The jig was up, David arrived with his new gf. He looked smug but anxious. She sat near me, also nervous. A very young pretty thing. I said to him. "Have you phoned my home tonight, David?” He sucked on his cigarette in that classic Israeli psychopathic style he had long ago mastered. "No I haven't" he said.

I said "Really, I just had a call from 2 frightened kids as I have Calling Number Display and that never lies!" Everyone glared at him, even his devoted friend Emmanuel.

I stayed for the lesson, was civil to the blissfully ignorant gf (which totally derailed David The Devo) then offered her a lift home. She demurred, saying she came in her own car. I smiled. "Smart girl", I said. Then I walked out.

I think I attended a few more lessons until Emmanuel turned the lecture into a discussion about my vagina! Then I realised I had had enough swimming in the shark tank. I quit then and there.

Several months after, one of the other male students invited me for dinner at a posh restaurant. He had always been pleasant to me but I agonised over whether to go or not.

I packed a spritzer bottle with cayenne pepper mixed with water in my evening purse, in case he jumped me!

Although the evening was a disaster, as he turned up lathered in sweat having ridden his bicycle from Kangaroo Point to Milton and kept his bike helmet on as we entered the restaurant so was politely told to remove it.

For my part I got drunk on 2 glasses of red wine and variously entertained the other guests by expounding passionately on religion and politics in the middle east with my usual inappropriate Cayenne-Peppery Expletives.

He whined, for his part that there was no food in the plate (there wasn't, as it was that ghastly over-priced Nouveau Cuisine which is French for Artful Starvation) that he'd been better off taking me to McDonalds for a decent feed. A canny Scotsman if ever I dined with one.

Although he didn't turn out to be a psycho-killer spy plant sent by Emmanuel and David after all, so he didn't jump me and I didn't get to practise my spritzing (as one Israeli gf stated "What were you gonna do? Scream ‘stand still while I pump this spritzer in your face’?”) then fell about laughing. So yes my idea of self-defense was seriously flawed but I didn't know if Mace was even sold in Australia or how to buy it so that was my best laid plan.

I didn't have much trust in anyone connected to "D. D" as he had also attempted to strangle me and had mentally tortured me. So now I have to wonder why I even gave that guy a chance? Perhaps cos I knew he was a train wreck but sweet on me and after all, how bad could it be? Bad! Lmao!

That was my one actual Date in 30 years since I had first met my husband.

Needless to say, it was my last one. I just can't deal with that level of anxiety and bizarreness. Come to think of it, Mum and Cees did often have dodgy plumbing in that house in Wellington Point!

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My little peewee Herman Cock Supreme is quilling around his neck feathers, where the No Crow collar goes. He is so miserable that he refused to eat any porridge.

I took it off to give his neck a rest for the day. Quilling is already painful. But my boy crowed 14 times this morning. He was not shrill, just a sweet little lament. So the collar will be back on this evening. Poor little mite but it beats being euthanised for the crime of being born a Singer and a Boy.

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Trigger warning: suicide.

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Yesterday was my grandmother, Eva Augusta Meyer's birthday. 19 July 1898. I never met her. She suicided on 8 March 1949. She had always suffered from mental illness and was a very violent abusive mother to my mother Gisela.

She feared being alone when Gisela planned to marry Hans Paede. She had been bombed out 4 times in Hamburg. Lost everything and my grandfather Erich Meyer had died of TB on 12 April 1945 just days short of the end of the war in Germany.

4 years later she was penniless, living in a tiny 2-roomed flat she shared with my adult mother and would probably lose when Gisela married. She stated in front of Hans Paede (Angela's father) that she intended to kill herself. He replied "Get on with it then".

He took my mother to work and in the evening when they returned, he waited at the street corner while my mother crossed the road and entered the apartment building. As he turned to walk away, after having a cigarette, he heard my mother's horrific screams.

Eva had put her head in the gas oven and was lying on the kitchen floor. He told my sister that he never forgave himself for his cruel words. The young can be endlessly cruel to the elderly, especially older women.

He later in life realised her situation would have been hopeless. She had never worked in her life, had no money, no possessions, was 54, traumatised from the war and a widow and had always suffered poor mental health.

Her suicide was actually an act of desperate courage, not cowardice. She simply knew she could not survive alone.

I am 50 now and I used to be very angry with Eva for all the trauma she inflicted on my own mother, both physical (horrific beatings) and mental. Yet my mother loved her with such passion she begged me to never bury her at death as she firmly believed visiting her mother's grave daily for several years, was the most cruel and painful thing of all.

She cried so much over her grief for Eva that at 6 months pregnant a neighbour woman hit her in the face and demanded she stop it as she said it was hurting the unborn baby and after all, hadn't she cried enough over a dead abusive mother and really, it wouldn't bring her back!

I know how terribly I grieved for Gisela, even 18 months before her death when she was granny dumped by two evil Money grubbing step sisters I had never even met.

To see her cognition wasted away by Alzheimers and her slow decline to death was a constant horror for me. My own abuser who had also been one of my greatest loves (see how abusers program their children with extreme devotion beyond anything they might actually deserve?) was gone and I had to reframe my life.

5 and a half years later I am much happier and free at last, of the curse of the Albatross, the Hag I kissed that spewed hate at me, and for me for 45 years. Who manipulated, blackmailed, colluded with my husband and latter bfs against me, who vowed undying Love but stabbed me at every turn.

In one of my most traumatised periods of my life, after Terry strangled me and his sister and boarder were still threatening my kids and I, my mother (who visited them with Buck Scherer weekly, I later found out) told me how much she loved me. I said "Mum, your love is like a slow moving poison from which I might actually finally die".

Love. Such a precious and terrifying gift (Gift in German means Poison!)

A blessing or a curse. Choose Life! Always choose Life. If you are truly Loved, and you have clear evidence of this, try not to fuck it up! Real Love is as magical and cherished a treasure as the mystery of Life itself.

20 July 2014

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Getting my hair done tomorrow. Woot! Back to bed to rest and watch True Blood.

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Friday night I was so broke. I had a $5 note and $3 in coins to my name. Outside the pub sat an elderly Aboriginal man. He had a kind face and was banging his rain sticks together.

His paper coffee cup had tipped over and the coffee had poured all over the ground. He didn't seem to care. The wind was wild and blustery and bitterly cold.

I walked up to him. Said "Brother, your coffee has tipped over and poured everywhere". He said "What? How did that happen?" I said, “The bloody cold wind, Brother!"

I put $5 in his hand. Said "That is the last of my money. Go buy yourself another big cup of coffee and make sure you drink it this time, mate!" He said "What did you just give me?" I looked at him, said "Are you blind?", in rather a harsh tone out of some surprise on my part.

He murmured back "Partially". I said "Oh ok, brother, well your coffee has gone to hell so use that fiver I gave you…well…and get the best damn coffee you can find and enjoy it!" I clasped his hand briefly. He smiled.

I went into the pub feeling wonderful. I bought no drinks and drank water all night until the early hours of the morning when Jo bought me 2 drinks and Alma gave me a Corona.

So last night, an acquaintance came to visit me. He gave me $40! I couldn't believe it. So I went out with Jo and the girls again. It was great having money to buy a few drinks for myself.

Then I realised. My small gift to the homeless Aboriginal man had rebounded to me in abundance. My angels bless me and I bless others when I can and the entire universe turns on a dime in perfect synchronicity fuelled by unconditional love, respect and beauty.

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Fuck Yeah! I love life...now. There were 48 1/2 years when I just existed. Being fully alive is awesome and a little bit Dangereuse darlings ;-)

20 July 2012

I have finished vacuuming and mopping the floors. What an epic task but the house smells clean and fresh now. I have a yearly house inspection tomorrow.

I was soo tired today I had a four hour nap during the day. Still weary after all my cleaning so a nice cup of tea and back to bed go I!

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Shabbat Shalom!

20 July 2011

I've done a few sinkfulls of dishes, but heaps more to go grrrr, but I did rake up leaves in the garden and filled my compost heap. I also added layers to my worm farm so they have more room to breed etc. I wonder why I only want to be in the garden and refuse to do much in the house?

I cooked a delicious dinner for myself out of whatever I had left in the pantry. So proud of myself.

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I have a big beautiful male possum, in my bathroom, wrapped in a towel in a plastic crate, waiting for Wildlife Services to come get him. I can't find any injuries but he must be sick, cos with much outrage he let me wrap him up and hold him and bring him inside.

Poor darling! I don't know if it was my baby Tinker Tink, all grown up, cos I thought Tinks was female, but anyway, I hope this one doesn't die!

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Possum just left my home. The carer thinks it's a highly contagious disease but they aren't sure what it is, so I have to keep an eye for other possums that show up sick. He's got Dermatitis, and had a hard belly and by 3.23pm, 3 hours after I found him, his testicles were extremely swollen (they were an empty sac when I first brought him in the house).

He was nicely sleeping when the young woman picked him up, so he was one pissed off possum. She says if he recovers in a 6 week period she will bring him back here to relocate but if longer than that he'll get relocated anywhere.

I hope he survives. I'm going out now to disinfect the possum box as it's highly contagious. I don't want anymore sick or dying possums if I can avoid it.

20 July 2010

Feeling a tad tired after making my compost bin out of pallets, and nailing weedmat on all four sides to help generate heat etc. I also completed one of my pallet gardens, now have one half done. I need to buy loads of potting mix as the two bags I had already on filled a quarter of the pallet garden. Eek, will be expensive to fill them both. Oh well!

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Oh, by the way, the dishes are done at long last, courtesy of the bath idea, and I can see the floor of my kitchen for the first time in months. I cleaned the floors the other day but my darling pets have brought loads of leaves in and dumped them on the floor, so now I have to vacuum and mop again.

It's nice to have a relatively clean house again. I feel like I am back in control. Be afraid people!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons