Memories: 22 June 2025

22 June 2025

9:04 am I woke up with terrible pain in my right hand. Arthritis. Yuck. I must be not getting enough circulation. It’s been happening for a while now. Lyn gave me some shark cartilage tablets to try.

It’s been raining. Cold. But the sun is shining.

Let’s see what magick I can weave today, with my aching hands and stubborn mind. lol

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Yesterday I wove copper wire on the front and back of Kermie’s new cage. It took all day! Today I noticed I have bolted the back on the wrong way. So I will need to take it off, turn it over and bolt it back on. That won’t take long.

Beau is free today. But he is sitting on top of Kermie’s cage and Kermie keeps trying to kill him through the bars. Lucky I did not free range them at the same time!

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Hello Hyacinth! (Only one 😞 I had to protect it from the scrub turkeys who dug up and ate the rest of them.)

22 June 2024

Off dancing under a sexy silvery Magickal moon. :-)

Dancing for/with Alter Egos :-)

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You know when you have discovered your passion when every bit of spare cash, and drive and enthusiasm goes into your silversmithing. Today’s new acquisition….A long yearned for, dreamed about and now manifested silky oak tree stump to use with an anvil for my forming and stamping efforts.

22 June 2023

Last night was epic. I peed all night but the worst was around 3 am I was having a vivid dream about peeing at a house of people who had only one toilet. They needed the toilet so I said “You go!” But then I felt the urge to pee again, so in the dream I squatted down in the bath (So I could clean it thoroughly after!) then I woke up with the realisation I was actually peeing my bed in real life!

Tanya! I shrieked. I leapt out of bed, ran to the kitchen to find my cleaning supplies. No enzyme cleaner…damn it.

I washed the mattress and sheets and doona as best as I could. Then got out the hairdryer to try to dry it. This took over half an hour.

I eventually got back to sleep after spending about an hour telling myself that if this keeps up I need to die. Worrying about needing to buy a new electric blanket. Worrying about how I want a partner but now I am incontinent that is just an impossibility and gross…so I hope I die soon.

I fell asleep and woke up at 8 am. Stripped the bed, took the two doonas outside to air, took the pillows out.

I need to buy a new feather doona and of course, a new mattress but I can’t afford it.

Ratih arrived to clean the house so I left her to go to Spotlight to buy a new electric blanket. My old one, although it still worked, was stained and manky anyway and now peed in. Ughhh.

It cost me $85 for a new one. I got home and Ratih told me that Beauregard cried while I was gone and it was funny because when he cried Charley made similar sounds to mimic him. I laughed!

I immediately set about making my bed up with fresh sheets, doona covers and the brand new electric blanket.

I also put a waterproof cover on the mattress in the hope that if this should happen again, I can protect the mattress a bit longer. Omg. Epic!

I told Ratih I need a man who can help me financially but no one would ever want an incontinent old woman and I would not want to sell myself out sexually for merest survival. So I said if this keeps up I have to just bloody die.

I get like that! But life will go on. Man. All I can look forward to is adult diapers, and despair!

Meanwhile it’s a beautiful sunny day in Brisbane. The winter solstice.

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22 June 2022

11:37 pm time to sleep. I did not get much sleep last night so I hope to pass out successfully tonight and flip my eyeballs on either deep deep rest to interface with the gods, or else dream psychedelically, inspirationally and exponentially, as I have always done since early childhood. (The first few times I almost died).

My strange little brain bore even stranger succulent fruits…and I wouldn’t have it any other way (although I could have done without all the trauma and other abuses).

Anyway…I had a lovely day, a creative day, a day filled with sunshine and happiness with my bird and dog and even a visit from Koko. I was very very ill this morning but the prednisone steroid has eased that cough back off a bit. Thank G-d! I Fought long and hard and it did not need to be this awful.

Hopefully I will feel better in a few days. I have lots to achieve in my life.

But that is for a dozen or a thousand tomorrows. Right now….Laila Tov. Good night. Love is the Law. The Lore. The mainframe of the Multiverses.

Love. Amour. Arohanui. Liebe. Ahava. Alpha and Omega. Ein Sof Aur to Malkhut.

Loving my body back to full vibrance with the assistance of my healers, my angels, my gods, and my own stubborn recalcitrant Self.

Grateful humble but often masochistic (whyyyyy???!!!!) Woman here.

Invitations are extended to my Bashert! Whomever that man might prove to be. I even flipped my sign on my front gate. Polished the copper (Venus energy!)

I can almost sense his proximity and loving intentions. Don’t know who this person is but I sure hope that when I meet him, I get it right this time and there are no more epic cruel sadistic fuckups.

Sad but true.

Prednisone is a truth serum. Or a psycho babbling enhancer. It drives me crazy. But my lungs needed the support.

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I didn’t start hearing spirit voices until I was about 33 (after the second strangulation.) hmmm. I am definitely not schizoaffective as I shut that ability down until it surfaced again in 2020 (my maori cousin’s ancestors chatting to me on Old maori whilst I was frantically mopping the floors in my bedroom (now studio).

They kept telling me I had “Manatoa” I kept telling them I was busy and to buggar off. But eventually I sat down and tried to write what they were saying then used Google translate. That was weird.

Mostly I get song lyrics as messages if it’s auditory. My guide was a transgender person who used to work as a drag Queen in a cabaret in Las Vegas. Or so she told me back in 1996. She always came in with showtunes which I always thought was bizarre and hilarious.

But I don’t know if she still guides me although I do still get the occasional song. Two mornings ago spirit insisted I play Bolero by Ravel. So I did. I was greatly amused as that piece of music is a favourite for love making!

Not me personally, as I get too caught up in the moment to need music in the background for sex but hey it’s been years…so spirit was teasing me to get back in the saddle I think. Cheeky buggars.

Instead I got creative and made the mermaid’s tail and today the calla Lily. Not exactly sexual energy but equally productive. Something more long lasting to show for my efforts too.

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8:29 pm I am finally back in bed. I had the devils old trouble putting the bandages back on my wounds (to keep the scars from pitting and sinking in). I can’t see my back clearly and the mirror had everything reversed. Talk about “through the looking glass” I almost threw the thing out the window in frustration.

I just want good clean straight scar tissue, not the horrific mess I previously received last time a doctor hacked into my cancerous flesh. BeJaysus. Although that god has nothing to do with it but would the holy one quit flagellating my back like a 13th century monk. It’s not Cricket.

I made my shamanic offerings of milk and honey for the past two days and today, struggling to stop coughing for 5 minutes I put myself on prednisone, and have now freshly bandaged my wounds. A good “doctor”, healing herself as per fucking usual.

What else can one doooo but carry on?

I have made another lovely pendant in spite of my illness. So I seem to have discovered my passion! Pity I can’t afford the smith little torch, gas tank, hoses and regulators or a rolling mill…..yet.

If the gods will it and will quit sending me to the golden gates of Valhalla with major illness and skin cancer excisions I might foresee some kind of future. If the gods will it they can send me the money for the more expensive equipment I require.

Then I might have a chance at getting this silversmithing enterprise underway.

I have a brand new lawnmower I need to sell as I can’t use it as my lungs won’t let me push that thing around. So that was a shock. I Must organise that soon. The money from that could go towards the torch set up. 🙂

If the gods will it…and I don’t die but revivify myself yet again….then I will WILL IT And MAKE IT HAPPEN.

May I merit for it to not just be one of my useless psychedelic dreamer’s dreams (like my ever defunct disappointing grievous love life).

May I live long enough to see my grandchildren, have a successful business, travel to all the sacred sites and find a true loyal faithful kind love partner.

Yup! I know… greedy Mama T wants it all. Delusional. But yet miraculously it might still be possible.

Silly old chook with damaged asthmatic sleep apnoeac and industrial injured lungs is pissing in the wind…again.

But the lifeforce is strong with this little one. She never gives up. Push push push Mustang Kwe. L’Chaim!

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1:20 pm I finally put myself on prednisone. 6 precious possibly out of date tablets. 2 per day for three days.

Expect crazy videos, psychotic ramblings and weird obnoxious flights of fancy. (Which is why I abhor prednisone!) but I am sick of this incredibly painful slow-death-tango that Lady Death has me locked in. Frankly She is too lazy to kill me…so it’s fight or die.

I am fighting!

If no better after the course of prednisone I will have to see a respiratory specialist for some kind of prognosis.

Oh and I am washing the prednisone down my system with delicious Korean dumplings I bought on sale.

Viking Berserker Jewish Witch Queen seems to still have a hearty appetite which is unusual given how bad my chest has been.

The lifeforce is strong with this one 🙂!

PS Prednisone is a steroid for lungs for sufferers of asthma. Not an illicit drug. I had it on prescription ages ago.

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7:25 am bad night. Bad asthma, peeing 2 hourly. Not much sleep. Gahhhh.

But it’s another beautiful morning and magick happens….what surprises can I manifest today? I wonder.

Life is full of wonder and mystery. I put out prayers for healing, for abundance, for joy, for my true love to manifest, for peace.

I look forward to a future that is becoming an unstable glitching mirage because I feel so sick. So I need to make that future a solid attainable reality. I need to trust my body’s inner wisdom. I need to detach from the false construct and ride this thing out. If I can…

In case I don’t make it. I love you!

22 June 2020

Typing up diaries today has been utterly triggering. I feel like I might just go insane. But I held myself together although rather tenuously, for the sake of my children back in 2000, with all those evil dirty bastards and I can keep holding strong...even now. Proud of myself. A thoroughly wonderful woman. In spite of everything.

We had a late afternoon quick cold jaunt around the block: Bobo and I. He was a tad homicidal with other dogs. A really big dog wanted to engage with him and my tiny little Berserker fluffball let him know in no uncertain terms, that his canine attentions are not welcome.

The man who owned him tried to avoid me. We tried to avoid them. We met up rather mysteriously on the corner of Amethyst street and Turquoise. My little schmucko was ready to go to war again. The man went bright red and dragged his dog away saying she only wanted to play and they had tried to avoid us. Considerate! Lol!

We walked on opposite sides of Turquoise and I growled at Bobo that he did not need to be such a pain in the arse and stir up all the other dogs. I kept him on a tight leash and the man scurried away all red faced and embarrassed. Yeah his doggy wants to play all right!

Sweet in a way. She’d eat Beauregard for breakfast.

Note to self: time my walks slightly earlier to avoid men and their dogs walking after work in late afternoon chills.

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I just got off a call to the company Housing has contracted to install ceiling fans and smoke alarms in each room.

They tell me they will not send a contractor out if I refuse to leave the house while they work around the asbestos. I said that is ridiculous as I just recently installed an air conditioner and we were forced to pay a extra $300 for a professional asbestos contractor and he did the job without asking me to leave the house or indeed the room. So I am not willing to do this!

Also I told her I don’t require ceiling fans. They are too little too late as I had to install air conditioning at great expense to my beloved Benefactor.

My ceilings are low and ceiling fans would be noisy and possibly dangerous.

So then the admin woman said they would not be coming out and would have to negotiate with Housing about the asbestos situation.

I am furious. I said last time they came out they were rude and violating, and I don’t really require a new smoke alarm as there is nothing wrong with the current one.

She then explained it’s new government legislation as they have to be installed in every room.

What a fucking schamozzle that will be! I only just got my house sorted and they want to rip up the ceilings etc.

I suppose as I refuse to comply they will then threaten me to move out as they are infantile.

Also I already had exposure to the asbestos in the first 10 years I lived here as I was not informed about the asbestos until then. So I drilled holes to hang pictures, having no idea why it was so bloody hard to drill trough the walls. Jesus!

I just wish they would leave me the fuck alone without all this utter nonsense!!! That money they are wasting on this new fan dangled project would be better spent on providing us all with solar heating on the roof so I don’t waste money on expensive gas bills FFS.

I had to fight like a demon for ceiling insulation when all the private home owners were given it too. What the fuck is wrong with this nation?

Smoke alarms in every ceiling in an asbestos house are redundant anyway. It won’t burn that easily.

Gods I wish I had not been screwed out of the equivalent of three houses by my domestic abusers: all of them, so I am not subjected to this abuse from fuckwit bureaucrats.

22 June 2019

9.25 am. Awake after a very bad night of acid reflux. It took hours and hours for the belching to stop and to finally pass out into unconscious sleep. My rib cage is actually hurting from all the pressure. I was utterly exhausted too.

Then when I woke up just now it was a weird sensation (I have observed this change in my coming to wakefulness in recent weeks).

Instead of languishing between semi-conscious sleepfulness for minutes, I am brought awake with a sudden sensation like a fish being popped out into land from the watery depths of sleep. Or like toothpaste being gently but forcefully extruded from the toothpaste tube. Pop! Suddenly wakefulness.

So sudden that for a mere millisecond, I wonder if I am dead and awake in another paradigm. Usually quickly followed up by Beauregard (sensing the shift in my breathing and consciousness) covering my face with his face to welcome me back to the world but almost smothering me. A strange ritual he has incorporated into our morning snuggles.

Anyway, here I am again. Back in my body, life, with a sore rib cage and diaphragm. Getting older and quirkier and trying to make friends with my oesophagus. I wonder if the reflux will improve after my gall bladder is gone on Tuesday or if it is a separate issue? Hmm.

I have had it for years now. None of the medications ever helped. (I was so desperate to sleep I almost took one of the reflux meds I have here but realised it is practically useless so tried to weather the bilieous storm instead, like a good little sailor!)

So another day feeling quite tired and sick is ahead of me. I am glad I stayed home last night from dancing. I felt quite weak yesterday, in fact all week actually.

So I tried to be kind to myself by resting my body even though my spirit felt powerful and dynamic and supercharged. I missed dancing but knew I am too ill at the moment.

I think I will get up now and make a cup of tea and let Betty hen out, and Charlie out and just breathe and allow tiny refracted miracles to play out in my day.

You never know what beauty or surprises are in store for you. :-)

PS I burp like a wharfie after 54 kegs of beer. It comes up involuntarily when ever I lie down to sleep. Been that way for years now. Just as well I am single as no man would tolerate that shit. Except I genuinely can’t control it. Yuck!

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We have been to the dog park. We had the small dog area to ourselves so Bobo playedball, Charlie played on the grass, and I even hugged a big tree. Bobo wanted to stay longer than usual so we stayed until a couple arrived with their little dachshund. But we had a nice long play.

I am exhausted and my face has broken out in ugly pimples so that is unpleasant just before my operation. Too much backed up bile will do that to me. Oh well, it will be all over soon. Perhaps even my skin will clear up in a few weeks or months after the operation. Hopefully I will not feel so chronically tired also.

But I am glad we went to the dog park and that Charlie and Bobo had an awesome time.

Life lived in gentleness with bare spurts of vitality is always pleasant.

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I cooked a big chicken dish with the cooked chicken I bought yesterday. Lots of stir fried vegetables. I froze most of it down so I won’t have to cook much post-surgery.

I feel weak and light-headed just from the effort of cooking. I was tempted to go dancing tonight but I think that it would be wise to stay home tonight. Keep myself healthy enough to have the actual surgery on Tuesday.

Bobo is glad to have De Mama stay home too.

22 June 2017

My energy meridians are supercharged. I am so tired I lay down to sleep at 2 pm but my mind would not shut off and let me sleep. So um, might as well get up and do something with the rest of my day. At least my body had a rest lol.

22 June 2016

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10.54 am. I am finally awake. I have slept well albeit still waking every few hours but stayed in bed and rested.

Not feeling as weak and woozy as I did yesterday. Coming off those meds has been tumultuous. But I am going to get through this.

Everything is hypersensitive including smell and light-sensitivity. Lucky it is a grey day.

I see my doctor at 3 pm. Hmmm!

I need to take Beau to the park as he is madddd. Chewed my Converse sneakers. Gahhhhhh. Luckily only the edges.

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Back from dog park. Hair washed and decided to bath the Beau as he stunk. Now we are both fresh for my debrief. Lol.

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My dr says the high anxiety state last Thursday and Monday night was probably caused by going on HRT again but also Seroquel is not meant to be taken prn (as required) but ongoing and as I had weaned off it, taking a dose to calm me down would have caused the psychotic state. Crap!

So I said I needed Valium as if I get into those states I need something to calm me down immediately. So he agreed to give me a script for 10 valiums (as I cannot be trusted with large quantities after last August) so I am happy with that.

He says that me not being able to breathe and the numb fingers and arm means I have a highly sensitive limbic system. So my autonomic responses even shut down.

He also says the haunting by David Davidson was a psychic trauma event which was then compounded by another physical trauma.

He reaffirmed that after 50 years my life can and must get better and my work now will be to maintain my Dickhead Free Zone and to not allow any more dickheads (abusers/trolls/ attackers) into my life by recognising them early and only allowing good people in my life. Phew!

Easier said than done but if Hashem insists I stay alive in this realm for any longer then it better be good from here on in.

I can do this. I have at least prn Valium for next time I have a severe panic attack. Well, I still need to fill the script. He wants me to hand over my Seroquel :-(. I guess if having it occasionally is going to trigger psychosis it is safer with him.

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Just received an email from my bank. They are closing my overdraft facility. What the Actual fuck? They say it was their mistake and I will not be reported to the credit agency. I have had this overdraft for about 2 years.

So now instead of being peaceful and chilled I have to go into a branch and fight these bastards???

I need that overdraft to float me along each fortnight. Fuck fuck fuck!

Just received an email from my bank. They are closing my overdraft facility. What the Actual fuck? They say it was their mistake and I will not be reported to the credit agency. I have had this overdraft for about 2 years.

So now instead of being peaceful and chilled I have to go into a branch and fight these bastards???

I need that overdraft to float me along each fortnight. Fuck fuck fuck!

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22 June 2014

I went out looking a million dollars in my second hand clothes without a dollar to my name and my last $15 for petrol.

Wow! What an awesome night! Sometimes you just gotta have faith, wing it and be in the vibe of awesomeness. My beautiful and generous friends bought me drinks. We danced wildly (of course! Even without booze we dance wildly!) I felt wild, fantastic and happy.

After the band finished, I hung out with George my busker mate, then found Jo and ended up taking her home. It was a bit of a mental wrestling match cos a gentleman friend of hers thought he was taking her home. Lol!

He only had eyes for her: 100 points from The Tanya for this, cos the rest of the Casino which was packed with males were all bent...watching men playing with a ball and each other…G-d, soccer ruined my last part of my night!

So I am finally home with excruciatingly painful feet and arrive to my boudoir to discover Penny had hurled on top of my doona. So I cleaned that up, had a shower and am listening to the evil felinous vomitter purring smugly beside me. Catttttssss!

Now I am hungry. Still have banana cake. Yum!

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Last night was Happy Magical Awesome and Beautiful! With and without Booze. I love my friends, the music they make, the frenetic dancing, the quick reparté, the merriment, the soul connections, the caring, the Love, the Bliss even though my night ended with Shoccar and Spew (thanks Penny!). Evil smirk from Penny as an aside.

I am living in extraordinary happiness such as I thought I might never see in my lifetime. Bubbling and frothing as I write which is such a lovely feeling compared to seething, drying out in decadent (dessicant) despair and death-like zomboid emptiness.

My glass is no longer empty, it is a constant re-filling resource created by love, dreams, hope, charity, and friendship.

In my poverty I am wealthy beyond measure and I am very blessed. Thank You, Universe. xxx

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10.06 pm I just had a long sleep which was necessary and am now cooking corn fritters for dinner.

The night yawns above me but I love the nightlife, I get to Boogy and Beat back the snotty Bogey Man lol. I am loving this Winter. Not too cold as of yet and the air is fresh and crisp.

Life is….Euphoria!

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…

I had a spiritual mentor on Paltalk about 2 years ago, who is a Midewin, a healer a few ranks down from a traditional Ojibwa Medecine man. He was chatting to me online and all of a sudden I felt his energy as my body unexpectedly heated up (it was winter time!) I commented that I had noticed a shift in my body temperature and a lightness of being and he said he had tested me to see if I could sense energy so he could work with me.

I agreed that I needed his help, as it was in the very dark days of the emotionally crushing Will Dispute and I was convinced that I was not going to survive it much longer, either physically, emotionally or spiritually. I was at my wits' end.

So he sent me healing and joked with me that I am a Mustang Kwe. I said “What's that?” and he told me that I am a Horse Woman, like a Wild Mustang and my energy is “Push, Push, Push” all the time which is why I get so worn out and exhausted from constantly running and pushing my way through life, obstacles, battles, even positive experiences I have to push my way through. I thought that was hysterically funny at the time as it appears to be so true.

My other totem is the Wolf which is why I am heavily protected, and very loyal and caring and protective of others, and my wild need to 'howl' or run amok on full moons and the onset of electrical storms. I was born to be Wild and Free, and spent my childhood by the sea, constantly fighting for my right to be safe and free, so I was down the beach or up in the hills every chance I got. I hated being home, as I was never safe at home.

Home was somewhere I went to eat and sleep and listen to my parents' constant rioting all night every night for the first 8 years of my life. Later with my stepfather, I wasn't safe either. He was quieter and calmer but a predator so I was careful to not spend time alone with him if I possibly could. This made my life very hellish. School was hell also.

There was no place that felt safe for me or was home except at Mrs Robertson's place as she was the only adult in my life as a young child who bothered to nurture me, attempt to protect me by providing a 'safe house' and there were several times she even hid me from my own mother during one of her rampages. I can laugh about it now, but it wasn't funny at the time. Everyone was terrified of her on some level.

So my mustang and my wolf totems work together to give me the best that life has left to offer me. Freedom, wildness, creating my own safety, love, passion, loyalty, companionship, respect for myself and my boundaries and the boundaries of others and a mischievous sense of humour. (My horse Asfaloth had a very wicked sense of humour so trust me, horses can teach us a lot!)

Anyway one night he sent me his energy signature, which was a wolf, and I saw its face and head very clearly and kind of freaked out, so next night I informed him that I had seen his wolf and he was impressed with me as I had no idea I was that psychic.

I joked with him that if he violated my spiritual space with his wolf, that my wolf would show her teeth and rip him apart. He laughed but agreed he would not send his wolf again unless I specifically asked him to do so.

During the few weeks, he worked with me, he sought advice from his medicine man, and the next time we chatted, he informed me he had spoken to his Medicine man about me. I was very humbled and impressed as a bona fide medicine man is a huge honour to be dealing with.

I thanked him and asked what his Medicine Man advised him to do with me. He laughed and said that he had told him about my life history of having difficulties in love relationships, that I am the Queen of the Unrequited, that I have had very soul destroying dangerous relationships with 4 psychopaths, and that I was determined to find love again but very afraid of making more poor choices.

He told him I had been in therapy for years and knew what my main problems were, but no matter how much I tried to change the patterns, I still had difficulties. He told him that I was in a furiously embattled state for the Will Dispute and that he had offered his protection if I called upon it.

The medicine man had laughed and said to him, “I advise you to Tame Her”. I almost fell off my chair. I said “What??? Like the Taming of the Shrew?” and burst out laughing. My Midewin had never read Shakespeare so had no idea what I meant by the Taming of the Shrew. I had to explain what a shrew is.

Then I informed him that I refuse to be Tamed, as I like my energy the way it is. This is how I have survived monsters in my childhood of my own blood, monsters who were paedophiles, monsters who were husband and subsequent lovers, this is who the Fuck I am. To tame me is to take away my fight and my flight, and my will to live. To break me in, like a Wild Mustang would make me want to die.

As I did in my marriage, when I was constantly emotionally and mentally abused by my husband and mother. For the crime of being a wife and mother from the age of 19, who never partied or had much of an adolescence, who was faithful and loyal and did what I was told...nothing was ever good enough. I was always stupid or insane, or fat or ugly or wrong. Well they were the WRONG ones.

I spent 30 years of my life or even more, wishing I was dead, living a zombie-like existence. Going through the motions. Doing what I could to keep my kids and myself safe. I failed.

They grew up in trauma just like me but I managed to keep them safe from the worst. I never let them be alone with Cees, or Buck Scherer. I outed Trevor Singh when I was 6 months pregnant with Crystal as I did not want him in our lives. I did not want him anywhere near me or my baby.

It caused cataclysmic rifts in my family. My sister told me she would never have revealed our 'dirty secret' and I had damaged her reputation as a lawyer. I told her I was protecting my baby and I had protected her daughter when I was still only a child too, so she should be on my side. Alas, she never truly was. I found that out only 2 years ago when she declared me dead and let me down with the will dispute.

At any rate, I had done what I could to protect my daughters from the trauma of child sexual abuse and I failed as they grew up with my fear, and my worries and my suffering at the psychopaths I loved with all my heart, my family - people undeserving of a crumb of my love. I loved them like a beaten cowed dog does, and constantly went to them seeking validation and comfort and familial love and received nothing but more abuse.

So eventually my mustang kwe energy pushed and pushed until I could push no more. I got away from those people, I got myself and my kids away, and I started a new life. I was stymied again, by the new stepfather, the conman and my mother's descent into Alzheimers.

She was put in a High Care Facility by his two daughters only 2 days after his death, as they had no intention of looking after her, and only wanted her house and money. I was not even informed but found out 3 weeks later by an anonymous caller who instructed me to go visit my mother as she needed me.

So the stupid dumb cowed wolf woman, went to her mother and licked the hand that had abused her for 47 years, the hand of a woman barely recognisable whose brain had turned to mush, but who upon recognising her briefly during that first visit to the home, said “Na ja, There is a lot of water under the bridge”.

This was as close to an apology I ever received from that monster and I cried bitter tears for days after but like a woman obsessed, to prove I was not like her or them, to prove I was a good daughter (as if I ever had to prove that to her....) I visited her regularly for the next 18 months and was totally there for her when she was dying and gave her the loveliest funeral I could manage. All gifts from an emotionally-starving hurt woman-child for a cruel, hateful, lying traitor of a mother.

For that I have no regrets. I got Me back. I found out who the hell I am, and what kind of woman I am and I got to be proud of myself. I got to stand up and fight during the Will Dispute, for myself, for my dignity amidst the heinous lies they had written into the will about me. A woman the Scherer women had never even met until the Guardianship Tribunal where I was once again, sold down the river.

So yes...Tame me when I am dead. Flog the dead Mustang. (I will still kick back even from beyond the grave, trust me on that one :)).

So I am writing about this because I had a funny thought last night. Crystal offered me to take in a friend's little Shetland Pony, to house and feed it at my house. I was really excited and immediately started making plans of how I was going to exercise it and feed it and buy it a winter blanket etc. (forgetting I have no money of course, but the universe always provides lol).

So a few days later she says to me, “oh by the way Mum, it's a Stallion!” My friend Jarrod got rather perturbed. He said “Oh great, a Stallion that will try to hump everything in the house (Unlikely!) and will jump the fences (Likely!) and will constantly bite you”.

I momentarily freak out, as I am wont to do. I say, “Omg, Oh no, we can't have that! I can't have a Stallion at my house!” Crystal says, very dryly, quick as a wit, “Don't worry, Mum, All Wild Things find their way to your house eventually”.

There it is again. I laughed so much I almost fainted. The Wild things find their way to me. For love and light and healing but never taming. They have to live in my house and garden in perfect harmony or I discipline them, but I never Tame anything. Not really. I don't want anything or anyone Broken around me.

Even my pony Asfaloth, had never been officially broken, so I could only ride her on the homestretch back to her paddock. If her nose was pointed away from her home, I had to lead her on a leash like a dog.

So if that little stallion ever makes it to my house....guess what?....I'll be leading him like a dog through Whites Hill Reserve as he's too small and probably too cantankerous to even let a child ride on him. He'll be one more wild thing living free with me and I know, he will adore me for it. So here is my little energetic signature, my little stallion.

All my animals are eccentric and wild and highly unusual in their own way, and I am very unusual and we all get along fine. I love my wild things! All my friends are highly unusual, wild, free, and amazingly wonderful. Men I fall in love with are often very very unusual (in fact have been often psychopathic which is why I have been single for so long!)

The wild things will find their way to me eventually, so I am kind of learning to roll with that and being the wild thing that I am myself, to push push push my way through all those little niggling annoying obstacles and barriers to my sanity and stability, my peace and my joy.

Even my married friends who are respectable, and 'domesticated' and think they are quite ordinary and would hate to think that they are in any way wild, find that by hanging around me, I start to bring out their own little smidgen of wild in them that just makes them fire up a little bit and at least, if nothing else makes them shake their heads and have a good laugh and possibly when I leave have a good cry too, but tears of joy, because it's amazing how just being that little wild thing inside of us all, sets us free. Freedom and Love are the most beautiful things in the world, to me anyway.

So if I should give up my freedom to be with someone I love, they would have to be just as freedom loving and wild as me, but without diminishing each other's energy, without taking away from each other, without controlling each other.

Like as Khalil Gibran says in The Prophet, “Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow”.

I would love that, to have an equal relationship based on mutual adoration and regard, to know that I am safe with him and know that I can trust him to love me enough to be loyal and faithful, and for him to know the same, that he is safe with me. That is very important, but Time Will Tell.

So my midewin friend sent me calming healing energy instead. That was 2 years ago. I have finally found a point in my life where I am truly happy, and in love (this time with a man as wild and free as I am and impossible to pin down, so I won't 🙂, as I would hate that being done to me!)

I am enjoying a euphoric state and my energy is like a cascading water fall, bubbling and frothing in a constant flow of delight. I have never felt this amazingly good or this beautiful, or this wild and free without anyone in my life to destroy me or break me down or crush me.

This is the first time in my life, I have felt carte-blanche approval to be me, without any taming or watering down or eviscerating. I am loving this point in my life. I pray I continue to feel this way for many years to come. It's been a state of grace hard-won but the rewards are so worth it!

Update 2019: Just over a year later I tried to kill myself, due to defamation threats, and heartache over a man who betrayed me (rolls eyes), a female bully at the casino who tried to set me up as an aggressor when she had fucking harassed me for years (classic narcopath playbook manuevre) and my own poor health and vulnerability. Mustang kwe could push no longer.

Then again on 25 June 2019 that epic surgery... and the cascade of abuse and pet deaths that followed that when I have barely healed. hmmm but I am strong. Free. Determined. Better not bitter.

I have high hopes for my future. I dream of a safe loving happy life. I can see a possibility. if only the gods will smile upon me and align me with the right person who shall treat me decently, honourably, lovingly. It could still happen. 🥰

Heather Skene: 😊 sounds like you are in control Tanya. Did you get the stallion?

Me: No hon, the little fella never arrived. Probably a good thing as a few years later my mad elderly Romanian wannabe-rapist neighbour got two sheep and they were brutally mauled by stray dogs. It was devastating.

I was in love with the idea of having a little horse in my backyard though. I guess, technically I could still have one but it would need a lockable little stable or it would be in danger.

Anyway, I gave that idea up. Lol.

But yes, Wild Things make my heart sing, and they do eventually find their way back to me. 🙂

Heather Skene: I’m amazed that folk are actually allowed to have horses in their gardens. Difficult in your climate. Expensive for you too I imagine.🤔

Me: Weellll I am not sure it would be allowed. Housing commission threatened me to get rid of my fishponds. (Which I had here from the moment I moved into this house 16 and a half years ago!) So I think they would have made me get rid of a midget pony too.

Anyway I no longer take my daughter’s offerings too seriously. She once (as a teenager) told me she was inviting a bunch of her lesbian friends to stay over in our backyard in tents (as we did not have enough beds in the house). I got excited about all my visitors “my lesbian tent city!”

Turns out she made the whole thing up and I was so gullible I fell for it. Lucky I did not start cooking masses of food (this was when we were so poor we could barely feed ourselves, yet in that house my kids regularly brought friends home and their wealthy parents expected me to feed them when I was subsisting in $200 per fortnight on a Newstart payment. (Much less than the Disability pension that I had to fight for, for 2 years!)

It was disgraceful. My friend Gail regularly cast open my pantry and asked for tins of food to feed her equally destitute sister and partner, which I got pissed off about as the sister worked as a nurse so had a decent income but I was expected to provide for everyone.

CRAZY!!!!! but I survived. Somehow.

So no wild horses, and no wild women (apart from My own asexual Self!) chez moi!

22 June 2011

…

I've got two new amazingly beautiful Red Bettas. Will upload photos when I get computer back tomorrow (Thanks to Peter's hard work!) I'm also picking up my diamond nose stud tomorrow. Bill finally made it up for me. So exciting!

I also stripped dried banana leaves from the compost (quick save as I threw them in yesterday) for Jarrod's and my Bettas. It was a beautiful day but getting quite chilly now.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons