Memories: 30 October 2025

30 October 2025

8:53 am awake! Yesterday I had a beautiful afternoon and evening with Belinda and Bill Daniel. Lots of playtime with her sweet puppy Nigel and his adorable mother!

Belinda commissioned a pendant from this beautiful Ocean Jasper stone she bought on a trip to Rottnest recently. This is my very first commission and I am excited to make something special for her.

Belinda has been a wonderful supporter of my craft since we met at her drumming circle 6 years ago. She also taught me how to spin fleece (rolags!) on a spinning wheel. She recently upgraded my one which was a tad malfunctioning to a beautiful Ashford one which someone kindly donated to her (and then it was gifted to me!) So I am thrilled to be able to spin wool and will soon be practising plying with my new bobbins I bought yesterday.

So making this pendant for her is very special as it encourages me in my silversmithing and will be something that is imbued with great energy. Love, honour and friendship.

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https://youtube.com/shorts/YdMKHBzvfjE?si=jY83UB_7IhuB-2pk

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30 October 2024

I woke up with this drifting through my brain like a colander leaking my love like extruded shit. I don’t drink to excess but hey, spirit wants to remind me of who I really am. Courageous, weird, powerful, beautiful and worthy of a true and great love, for the first time in my life, perhaps for the last time.

30 years alone. Triumphant, joyous but still “they cut me with their steely knives” but they will never kill my personal ‘beast’. Maintain the wild. The freedom. The honour. The Corazon. The courage under fire. My love is not a game, or a sacrificial lamb or a torture device. Love…or tear it away from me. Either way, I will survive…and even thrive.

The One whose heart is mine will let me know in words, actions, intention and energy. He will meet me where I am. Proud and happy to stand with me, to hold my hand, to be my lover until the end of our lives…or the end of Time. I will be proud and happy to be his woman too. Real love.

Anything less than that is a putrescence that cannot easily be washed away…but I have washed and scrubbed and once even immersed myself in a mikveh before. I am not afraid to keep walking, dancing myself to my ultimate Love.

It’s a long hard gruelling lonely Walk…but it’s got a happy ending. Eventually.

30 October 2023

Day 9 of Covid. It’s a beautiful morning. My cough is worse. But I am up and dressed and drinking mullein tea to drive that demon off my lungs.

I finally connected with my beautiful friend Jarrod. We spoke for four hours. Just like in the early days of our friendship 31 years ago (almost 32 years ago when we used to run through portable phone batteries we spoke so long!)

True friends always have much to say to each other. But I did rave on a bit lol. I wore us both out!

Yesterday I set about applying for an Australian passport online ($325!) I want to go home to my birthplace, Wellington NZ and see my childhood friend again. It’s been 20 years since I last went “home”. I will fly in for the weekend on Friday and come home on Monday.

Lynne got very excited at the prospect and said she would take me to Oriental bay and we will eat fish and chips on the beach just like when we were children. I smiled. I said “I want us to go to Island Bay also” (although staring up at my childhood home is like being shredded with razor blades). But the beach was my real mother and father during my childhood.

“I want us to go back to Red Rocks so we can chase after the seals and the faery penguins.” She replied “Oohhh I would love that!”

It will be an odyssey of memories and a concentric circle on our groove on Life, revisiting the spaces that gifted us freedom, joy and peace and grew us into such wise beautiful fierce wild courageous women. Like two little “Heavenly Creatures”. We never did work out how to cut that brake line…dammit!

The idea of going home to NZ for a weekend has gifted me hope! Something to aspire to. I will try to go in February when the airfares are cheaper but before the NZ weather gets too bitterly cold for my Queenslander blood.

If I had money and a passport and clearance from this Covid bitch of a thing. (Which has actually been kinder to me than I thought it would be!) why, I would be on that plane already, contemplating the long white fluffy clouds and soaring at 20000 feet!

The odd thing is that I have had no desire to go back to NZ all these very long years. So my soul knows…time is precious and I need to see her again.

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Jan Attridge: So happy for you!

Me: Jan Attridge thank you. It’s been one of the weirdest illnesses of my life. It definitely has its own “consciousness”. I mean I sense it’s definitely alien by nature.

It scanned every organ I have. I could feel it very confused by my fatty liver and frankensteinian tvt taped bladder. I just lay there, trying not to freak out and said “Yeah Bitch…I have been implanted with foreign objects long before you came along!”

I had a momentary panic attack when I realised my only “healthy” organs left are my heart and brain so I hope like hell it hasn’t embedded into their cell structures as I don’t fancy getting dementia. But it is what it is.

My heart had palpitations for a few hours. Told me “Don’t worry Tanya…I’ve got this!” So trust I must in my own Higher Mind that has absolutely insisted I survive this long (even against my own will at times!) and in my gods, who demand I stay on Planet Hellscape for a while longer.

They want me to live to see all my Dreams come true. So watch this space: things are unfolding in perfect timing. I think that preternatural searing RAGE I had for two days blew it out of me. It was a tad terrifying.

My ancient ones brought out my inner Berserker. My Magick is astonishing. But having experienced it from within my own body has been a timely reminder. Never underestimate my Self. My love. My power as a Woman.

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I lent Mr Grim Reaper my Halloween hat. He’s a lucky spirit as I don’t share my hats with anyone. I feel like he needs a cigar too. He’s got more of a Papa Legba vibe going on. Papa Legba is the god of the Underworld in Voudoo religion/culture so it kinda fits too.

The lawnmowing man is coming to mow in the morning. I hope he doesn’t damage Mr Death. It’ll probably freak him out as he is a Muslim. Lmao

30 October 2022

1:11 pm, 11.01 pm, 11:11 pm, 1.01 am, now 1.11 am. The synchronicities with the number 11 is intense today. I wonder what is going on.

I have been busy updating my vocal media all Afternoon and night. So I wonder if it relates to my writing somehow?

Or is it just that I am too focused on my phone and time inching forwards in multiples of eleven?

30 October 2020

My father’s spirit is around! I have Bob Dylan’s “like a rolling stone” replaying on a loop in my head as I mop the floors. Ffs.

Avaunt thee, foul spirit. Ye are not welcome in my Sacred Space, or in my head. Only Ancestors that love me or whom have Pure Intent may have my permission to contact me! The rest can return to their Original Source!

30 October 2019

The pink Amaryllis are popping open. I moved them out of the pot they were in a few months ago as my beloved Miss Betty (who died on 4 October) was intrepidly scuffling all the potting mix out and I observed, due to her ministrations, how large the bulbs really were! Now they can spread out in abundance and Happiness.

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I am feeling much happier today. A lot calmer and peaceful. Not sure what yesterday’s storm of anxiety was about but as my beautiful wise Lyn said, it might not have even been all mine! I slept late this morning, as was exhausted.

I have been out to clean the fish filters and top up the ponds. The fish are well...fushing happily. I pottered in the aquaponics bath and spread the basil seeds and pulled out dead spring onions and tied up the rambling cherry tomato. Bit of gardening efforts this morning but nothing strenuous.

I feel a storm coming on this afternoon! Rain would be most welcome here. Everything is so dry along with my hard pressed starchy mood disorder.

Time for another little hobbit white woman rain dance...methinks!

Oh and I gave a few kilos of coffee berries to Crystal and she has prepared them. Now we just need to roast them and grind them!

Sally gave me heaps of coffee beans and ground coffee before she returned to NZ. So we will have an abundance of coffee. Crystal will probably gift the ones she prepared to her friends as that will give me joy, sharing the abundance.

Although I am curious to try some to see if there is a difference in taste between freshly made home grown ones and the bought ones. I suspect they will taste the same.

30 October 2018

Feeling peaceful and happy in spite of not sleeping as much as I would like. It was so lovely to have my little family together last night.

Mark told funny stories about how he and his brother Aaron got drunk on the kosher wine (12 per cent alcohol, people!) at my wedding so were made to sit in the car. (I would not have punished them as I got drunk when I was 5 on strawberry liquor lees. My stupid parents had not realised I was drinking the leftovers in the glasses (cos you know, strawberries and cream flavour).

The next time I was 14 at someone’s wedding. The bartender was giving me double Bacardis. I had 6 before I got stinking drunk and vomited all over Philip Hoedemaeckers car.

Which upset him no end as he was hoping to impress and have sex with a smoking hot Italian girl named Lucia! (Little neighbourhood “sisters” can really mess with a boy’s nefarious plans!)

Mark also told the story how at Jasmine’s Brith HaChaim (naming ceremony) he and Crystal (aged 18 months) were having a screaming competition so I went a little berserk and threw them both out on the front porch. I laughed as it sounded like something I would do!

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Another contractor arrived this morning (got me out of bed grrr). They want to fix and replace sections of the wooden fence and to chop down two trees to make room for the fence. I am upset about losing the trees but he says they are Chinese Elms so a pest anyway. But life is sacred!

On the other hand I have reconciled their demise with the fact it will be two less big trees to block up my sewerage pipe which was a horror a few weeks ago.

Swings and roundabouts. I hope the elementals that live in or on the tree don’t get too angry with me. I have had quite enough misfortune in life!

I am impressed that Housing has gone straight to work on all the problems that needed remedying around the house though. Except the gas fitter yesterday could find nothing wrong with the oven! Even though Crystal, Jarrod and I all witnessed the flame blowing itself out 3 times while cooking the roast. So I was really annoyed about that.

Later this arvo I am going out with Mark to go bed shopping! Crystal needs to look for a new mattress too, so perhaps she might join us. (I let her take my car last night as I was too exhausted to drive her home and back!)

30 October 2017

I would like to think/believe/hope and pray that the spirit of that long-ago taunted little girl that was tormented with a fake sweetie will have forgiven Catherine Corless for her redemptive Power/honour/ and formidable determination to have the dead home babies receive the rightful memory, and retribution that was stolen from them when they were buried so shamefully and secretly in the catacombic sewers of Tuam by the Bon Secours.

I am so proud of this woman. As a survivor of a csa (which is how many of these dead babies came to be brought to that place, to eliminate the shame and horror and protect the reputations of the perpetrators) but also as a daughter (and even more unluckily) a granddaughter of Bastards.

I resonate with the description of these children growing up with shame, low self esteem, loss of dignity and also painfully loss of identity. Not knowing who their father was or their history (which can be a good thing if their fathers were rapists and child abusers) left many of these children and adults with a sense of being disintegrated. Cut off from themselves and society.

Some grew to be heroic defenders of their religious or political idealogies (searching for a “father” or a “mother” long stolen from them).

Others grew up hateful, embittered, vicious perpetrators of violence against their own children, envious of their “privilege” “Luck” or ability to fight for themselves to raise themselves up and over that Wall of Shame and Defilement.

My own mother, my monster, my beloved, when I discovered the proof that her mother had been born illegitimate also cried in despair. “Then she was a bastard too, and so am I”.

In a rare moment of factual harshness more redolent of cognition of the decades of emotional/mental/physical and even her enablement of sexual abuse against both myself and my much older half-sister I looked her squarely in the eye and stated “Yes, you are. You are a bastard”. She nodded briefly, squared her shoulders and her Germanic jaw and we moved on from that salient ignoble fact.

We have choices in how we treat others and when the innocent are murdered in the name of holiness, then we all have a responsibility to raise them up as our own, because yes, therefore but the Grace of G-d we go.

Happy Halloween. The Dead are Dancing. We shall succour them in our loving arms and honour them, the forgotten and downtrodden, the afflicted.

May their memory be a blessing to create a better safer world for the children of the poor and the children of the violated. Amen

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Here she blows. Another luscious cooling storm impending.

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Agony. I rang QE2 dental hospital. In desperation. The supercilious sarcastic disinterested receptionist informed me that there are many patients on their emergency books and the next appointment would not be until next Monday at 7.50 am. I had to accept it. One week more of agony.

I rang my gp who told me a week is very reasonable and good. But I can come in to see her for antibiotics or pain relief if I think I develop an infection.

I told her my psychiatrist recommended Endone as Panadiene forte upset my liver last summer and made me even worse. No. She says. Not endone. Other option is to go to emergency dept and wait.

At this point after suffering for over 14 months I would be quite happy to die. Last year the private dentist pulled a tooth that the QE2 dentist told me recently did not need pulling.

They are destroying my mouth with their negligence, incompetence and lack of communication between private dentist and public dentist. Worse still they frankly don’t give a damn.

My jaw hurts. My life is pain and poverty and suffering caused mostly by child abuse that has damaged my teeth and tmj joints (from Trauma and being hit in the face frequently as a child). I am completely over it all.

Pray for me. Also gently let me go when the time is soon upon me. I refuse to continue on like this.

30 October 2016

A chapter of my life is closed. I had a great time this weekend but my heart will go on. I am grateful that Samhain brought a great purge of the darkness and the void.

Grief over my daughter and over the other beloved must now be processed and come to an end so I can move into my next evolution of consciousness. If there was damage, it was because I loved too much, gave too much and wanted to be loved in return. That is my mistake. My block. My cosmic punishment.

My gift at the end of the night was from my sweet homeless friend. She bought me a coffee and we laughed about the foibles of human nature and our female vulnerabilities and our great gifts of being both seen and unseen. My God but she "gets" me.

The past 3 or 4 weekends have been powerful, beautiful and triumphant. The universe gives even as it tears my heart open and watches me bleed out.

Empty cruel soulless fucks constantly strive to hurt me. Every now and then they succeed. But this time I have deleted/defriended/demoted those superficial voyeurs from my life.

A fierce warrior. But so upset and disappointed. But you know. What can I expect? Sabotage and lies and abuse from the very beginning.

I carted that dead baby of a love with me like a rotting corpse. Blew life into it. Honoured/protected/nurtured it. But it was always dead.

The Tanya and her zombie life and zombie lovers. Well, how we danced! Walked the line. Sang the songs of my people. Psychedelic sighs.

I am done. But thank you G-d for bringing me to this season. For the gift of vision and betrayals, pain and dead loves. They bring their own wisdom.

I am not a half-arsed superficial person. I cannot be with anyone who strives to damage me. I am done letting people use and manipulate me as they confuse my kindness for weakness. I release all that is not for my highest good.

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9 years ago today I had major surgery. I remember feeling very vulnerable. Dead defunct tissue that once housed babies was eradicated from my body. It was both a relief and a grief.

My then BF could only think about the fucking he was going to have with a non-menstruating woman. He shook hands with my female gynaecologist. Complimented her on a great job. It was indeed. She laughed. Even I had to laugh. It took 2 years to completely heal.

In that time, another watershed happened. Gila exposed herself on national TV and my evil nemesis Buck Scherer died. My mother was granny dumped in a high care facility. Then began more of my healing/giving/loving to a vicious enemy. My mother my monster. My precious.

That was 9 months after my surgery. A rather strange re-birthing of my womanhood/personhood. 18 months after that, my mother died. Then 2 and a half years of more evilness in the will dispute. I lost again. (my speciality: losing and/or being fucked over by greedy malicious cunts).

Then I hit the ground running again with my new front teeth "All I want for Chrithmas is my two fwont teef", my car and celebrated the freedom from oppression that had lasted 47 years.

Now at 51 (and a half!) 9 years on. Another closure. True loves never die. I hold them close until I have to hatchet their memory and bury them deep in the graveyards of my mind, my heart.

Loss. Abandonment. Betrayal. Mindfucks by Narcopaths. Users. Abusers. They think I do not see or know? Haha. Yes. Easy target. I know. I know. I chose these people. Fought hard for them. Refused to believe their vapid hatred. Still do. Cos my life is beautiful. Honourable. Worthy.

Amidst ugliness and putrefaction, it is the only thing I can do to stay alive and sane. Believe in the intrinsic goodness of life and her players.

Ah well. 9 years is a long time. Things change. People come. People go. Release. Rinse. Repeat. Recycle. I am at peace. Nothing more I can do. It is done. Float like a gilded turd on the scum pool of my life. Money for nothing and their tricks for free.

Trick or treat. Sour or sweet. Both epic superficial lies. Nothing really matters.

The sun shines on, a cosmic gaseous flaring eruption that lights up the entire galaxy so I can be burned and bask in his glow. The moon reflects what is rejected in the radiant orbit. The shadow remains on the dark side of the moon.

Lovers swoon. Maniacs plot death and world destruction. Worms turn. Birds fly down to pluck the wormèd tongues of deception and denials. Feed their shrieking young. Sunrise sunset.

I don't know why I am even here. I don't even like (insert noun here).

I was brought to this season of joy. Amidst a shattered grief and decades upon decades of abuse. But I was carried, swept up in the arms of gods and demons. Halitosis hell and twiggy wigs.

Yet I still believe in love. It burns in my chest. A heart attack waiting to happen. My heart is strong. Had to be. It was formed on the wasteland of Gisela/David/Cees/Trevor/Angela. Then twisted and debased by Micheal/Gila/Terry/David and a cast of dozens of worthless hateful curs.

The curse of the curs. I was thrown to the wolves but I rise up to lead the pack of drooling flea-bitten hounds of hell. Not a wolvish mother for nothing.

I was kept alive, reconstructed, fucked, foibled, used and abused for one reason only. The getting of wisdom. The attainment of hope. For the sake of the love of heaven amidst vileness so profound. To dance in the face of my enemies. To dream my psychedelic dream.

Live as if everything is a miracle or nothing is a miracle. All for one and one for all.

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This morning around 3 am, a funny thing happened. I was sitting outside, with Katrina and George. Katrina had a few schmontzes (ornaments) out on the street in front of her. A tiny Santa snow globe, a fake white rose and a giant spider painted in silver glitter.

I joked with her that if we glued a brooch pin on the back, she could wear it as a brooch for Halloween. It was a huge fake spider, about 4 inches wide.

So we were sitting and chatting and I was having my usual epic post-dark clown and exercise-fatigue breakdown.

Suddenly a very large spider (a wolf spider or golden orb? not sure which) came striding along the footpath, right towards Katrina and me. Katrina gasped in horror and went white in the face. Some other people also gasped.

I just laughed. I said "That my dear, is a form of synchronicity and law of attraction!" I grabbed her large fake spider and placed it in front of the wild Live Arachnid. It stopped in its tracks, sniffing (do spiders sniff?) the air and sort of waited.

I yelled out "that is not a spider, THIS is a Spider!" Then I chased it away from us, with the big fake spider, without killing it. It went on the road and some drunk fools went after it.

I yelled "Don't you dare kill it! It might get run over instead but if you squish it I will squish you". So they left it alone. Funny. I used to be terrified of spiders.

I have been busy murdering cane toads all week. Salted at least 10 each evening. I stopped killing them for a few years but since they raised the house across the road, I seem to be getting cane toads in plague proportions. That and the warmer weather.

But I didn't have the heart to kill the casino arachnid. It was so cool, strutting up the street like a boss, then quivering in terror when I freaked it out with the fake spider double its size. Respect!

Katrina said she had never seen such a huge live spider in her life! I doubt that. Australia, Mate! The Land of creeps and crawlies.

30 October 2015

Tonight for the first time in weeks, I lit my Shabbat Candles. In honour of me finally leaving a toxic shul, one of several I have walked away from over the years. My light for G-d remains undimmed even though my trust in people is disavowed.

Dishonour is on them! G-d is my right arm who leads me from slavery and decades of oppression and abuse to my always yearned for, Freedom.

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In 4 or 5 months I will be adopted by a beautiful little male Pomeranian puppy. He will be 6 months old. I can hardly breathe with excitement. I have been praying for a True Love, with lots of fun and happiness.

I was hoping for a man but it is hard for me to find a loyal faithful fun happy loving man. So the Universe gifted me with something even better!

When my new little soulmate comes to live with his new Mama, we will call him Alcide (Crystal chose his name based on a photo of him.) Alcide means Strong Man or Heracles. I need a strong man by my side. I am a very strong powerful woman!

So together we will frolic in the garden, go on walks in the forest behind me and visit the small dog park! He will be my constant companion. There is no truer Love relationship than a woman and her dog-god).

30 October 2014

I kept Mischief (and his mother) in the dark all morning. No crowing. It is rather hot in there, even though I put water in the nesting area with them. So now I will have to get a battery-operated fan set up or the heat will be too much over summer.

30 October 2011

To all my Dog Book Friendship Invitees....sorry for spamming you lol. I will not be at all offended if you refuse to be friends with my Dog. I write some crazy shit on there so was off on my own narcissist vibe tonight LOL. OOOOPS!

Scary thing is I do this facebooking stuff SOBER but noone would ever believe me! What can I say, LOVE me or LEAVE me but my Dog is Awesome Aight!? Woof and little crazy Pomeranian spinning outta control from Miss Bella Rosa who is secretly plotting to take over the world but only after she hides my body!

In reality she has given up on De Mama tonight and crawled off to bed without me, cos The Dog has common sense! LOL

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It's been two weeks since my last encounter and I am still extremely happy! Wondering when I will slide back into my usual suicidal type blahness without end? Fingers crossed I've turned some sort of corner!

Oh, and hoping like hell I end up with a decent share of my wicked mother's estate so I can continue to revel in my newfound joyousness, go out more and meet lots of exciting, interesting and lovely people and buy a car (which will provide me with freedom to go out and about more!) and ....who knows what is yet to be revealed?! More good stuff is what I want, lots more good stuff.

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I came home and gathered worm castings from the lower tier of my worm farm so now have lovely juicy mushy goodness on my orchids and pot plants on my stairs. Satisfaction is free fertiliser, created by strange little creatures who thrive on leftovers!

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Awakened at 12 noon feeling remarkably ok considering I barely slept at all last night after going to bed at 3.36 am. Now off to bunnings with Jarrod.

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Oh G-d, if I don't go to bed soon, it will be dawn and if I don't sleep at all at night, then The Tanya is very unmanageable ie crazy 2 days later! (I love it! But Jarrod and Crystal will not be impressed!)

Weeelllll, who cares! It's my LIFE, and it's Now or Never, cos I'm not gonna live forever....ooops channelling Bon Jovi! I remember singing that song to my destructive toxic Mother who also felt threatened whenever I had an occasional bout of Joie De Vivre.

The important thing to remember is that now all mine enemies are smited before me, there is only one thing to stop me from enjoying my life, and that would be ME!!!!!! Hello, Empowerment, Hello Freedom....and Hello.....Helllo, ? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

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Random middle of night thought at 3.04 am. Note to self. I must buy some new lovely expensive perfume as I squeezed the last of it out of my bottle tonight before going out for the evening with Gail and feel quite sad that I am out of lovely perfume.

Hmmmm, need to replace it before my trip to Blue Mountains to see my darling Margaret. Hmmmm. Or I could just go au naturel and Schtinky? Hmmmm. I do love nice perfume though, so I might try to treat myself!

30 October 2010

Happy Halloween for all you creepy weird demented witches, wizards, ghosts, ghouls, vampires, werewolves, trolls, faerie folk, and wandering spirits. May the Force be With you, to the rest. Love and Light always!

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The tick bite has left a hard lump on the tip of my earlobe. So annoying. There is also a lump on my neck so the bastard critter must have bitten me there first.

Gail who had to pull it off my ear, said she had nightmares about it last night. It was very "Alien", the way it was fighting to burrow into my ear and she had so much trouble getting it out. Just freaky really. We screamed the whole neighbourhood down!

Gives a whole new meaning to "Don't Bug Me!" If this keeps up, I'll have to wear a tick collar like the dog.

30 October 2009

The Agents are Coming....Look Busy. I really hope Crystal impresses them all tonight!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons