Memories: 8 July 2025

8 July 2025

8:50 am. 9 degrees Celsius…brrrr. Beautiful morning. I just got woken up by Urban Utilities. They worked on the main, said it was pretty clear but will clear my line on my property. Phew. Nice fellow. Decent!

I was barely synapsing as I literally had just woken up so I was looking at him (without my glasses) like a bat in a belfry caught in spotlights lol).

Anyway, time to greet the day and see what the gods gift me today. Another day in Paradise. I am relieved the sewer is cleared. One thing off my mind.

8 July 2023

Last night was very spiritual and kinda interesting. I hung out with my homeless friends last night. George asked me to give him a lift home.

One of the young homeless people (whom I had sat and chatted with) had smashed up his $1000 guitar so naturally he was quite upset. I said, “I don’t take sides but it was awful that had happened so I am happy to give you a lift home”. He gifted me a block of caramello chocolate.

I asked Katrina where the ring was that I gave her a few months ago. She told me that another homeless man named “Wolfman” had wanted it so she gave it to him. My eyes flickered with a brief rage. I knew that would be the outcome.

I told her that I had specifically blessed that ring for her, so him stealing my mojo will do him no good at all! I told her that if I meet him, I will demand he returns the ring as it was not meant for anyone but her. She smiled nonchalantly.

Note to self: don’t give away my jewellery or art to people who don’t cherish it FFS! I didn’t remain angry for very long. No point in that. She had asked for a ring from me, I had (eventually!) supplied her with one…then she had discarded it so easily.

It reminds me of the Lady and the snake story. Someone will always take advantage of my generousity or small kindnesses. Then bite me in the eyeball, leaching poison for eons.

But Katrina is not malicious and is easily taken advantage of by men on the streets. Her vulnerability is equally her feminine power and mystique. The ring was a test. Of my loyalty and integrity. But it’s gone now.

Blessing a wolfman. The irony not lost on me as my spirit guide is indeed a fierce salivating growling wolf on occasions when I need protection. Like cures like…yes?!

The young homeless man told me he knows “Wolfman” when I lamented about it. I said “Tell him my Magick is not for just anyone so he needs to return that ring to Katrina! I am livid!“ He nodded. I love how they indulge me in my weird spiritual furies.

But if she yielded the ring so easily then it was of no value to her, so there is that. The fury gets buried deep and I rise above it. My gifts spoiled and despoiled or thrown away or burned…dishonouring and invalidating.

It’s why I learned to be rather stingy in recent years. No use pissing against a wall acquiring only perspicacious splashback. I do love Katrina though. I wish her well.

Lucidly she tells me last night that she has been inside my bedroom with my four poster bed. It’s lovely. I had shown her a photo of my dog and she saw my legs and the four poster.

I nodded. I do have a lovely bed…a bed I fought for in a two and a half year will dispute. I do have a roof over my head albeit a government house, so I will likely never own my own home again. 20 years in this house now, subsisting on a disability pension.

But I am rebuilding my life by making jewellery. It brings hope and happiness. It’s something to aspire to…success. Success to a homeless woman is a four poster bed that no man can abide in…because of my mojo. Lmao!

George said he hadn’t seen that dreadlocked one in a very long time. I smiled. I told him I still loved him but I haven’t seen him either. But I told him I cyberstalked him just the other day and he’s playing ukelele in a band called “No strings attached” so the irony of that had me laughing so hard I fell off my couch. I said “But he looks real happy, singing and dancing to his ukelele, so good on him!”

George laughed too. He said “You loved that one a long time” I nodded “it’s been over 9 years….”

My fucked up Kintsugied heart just won’t let go. But I guess it is slowly healing. I am starting to blossom out again. Trusting in life and love again.

Broken little girls transmogrified into wild Witchy Women, trusting in ancient gods and metamorphosed timelines must wait. Waiting for Godot. It’s beautiful…langsam…but poignant.

Can you tell I have only had two hours sleep? My mind is crystal clear though. I could strike a match off it and smoke it! Smoke on the water…bring me back my truest deepest lover man. Whomever he is!

…

PS SHOW ME MY MONEY!!!

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…

…

I had a lovely day, even though I only slept for two hours last night!

I had a visit from Margot, the children and Rosie!

Then in the afternoon, Evie gave me this lovely picture she drew of our little spell casting session yesterday. (The manifestation was for money hence the symbols of money). So cute!

Evie told me she wants to be a spell caster when she grows up! I laughed and told her she already is one as she did that yesterday! The children explored my garden and gathered flowers and herbs for their very own “witches potion”. They were so happy! It was delightful!

I shall cherish this little drawing, as it was such a sweet memory. Also Magick happens and never underestimate the Magick of sweet innocent children and their powerful mutual Celtic ancestors that love us. (The Andersons have Scottish and Irish lineage like mine!)

Little Evie asked me if I received money yet and I explained it can take three weeks, three months or even three years for a “spell” to work so patience is a virtue. She nodded sagely! I told her the highest form of Magick was her loving heartfelt intentions for me and I am so grateful and honoured by that.

…

8 July 2022

9:09 am Awful memories today: last year we were fast losing our much beloved Socks. I was put through the most surreal sadistic ordeal by the Mt Gravatt vets and the RSPCA. At least the RSPCA inspector rang me the following day to apologise. That was something.

A year later, my health is still very poor. The grief of losing Socks has eased but the trauma of that day has not quite left me. It has put me off taking any more pets into my care as our society is so venal, using Covid as an excuse for sadistic pathologies of hellish contortions.

Which is ironic as I did not even have Covid. Still haven’t had it. Despite my fragile lungs and poor health.

Psy sighs!

It’s a lovely day this morning. I will get out of bed, and enjoy the day and think happy thoughts of when Socks was still alive and the world was a slightly better place.

I wish I could heal this paradigm but I guess it will start with me healing my own self and holding onto my remaining Beloveds and loving my life in all the weird and magickal ways that makes my continued presence on this earth, a worthy one.

8 July 2021

8:25 am back in bed. I dropped off Sock’s urine sample at the vets, first thing this morning. They will call me with the results.

I feel very weak today so will try to stay in bed and stay calm. Walking felt like I was moving through thick mud. Which means I don’t have enough oxygen. So I am better off staying warm in my bed and getting plenty of rest.

This is just another storm the Tanya Tempest will have to sail through. Just another illness. It’s getting ridiculous. Months of diarrhoea and now a bad cold on top of it. At least the diarrhoea has stopped in the past week.

The next Colonoscopy is due on 26 July so the previous evening will be epic shittiness. Yuck. I need to buy the movical for the long prep.

This too shall pass. I had a very happy week and a half so life can be remarkably good, even with my physicality and health issues.

My psychiatrist has booked me in for 4 August so he is back from his medical leave. Things will get back to normal. Life…is well, life!

…

I received a phone call at 5:52 pm from the vet. Socks will need euthanising as he has confirmed diabetes. I am devastated. They said they were closed tonight so I need to take him to RSPCA or Animal Welfare League. I googled them. They are also both closed.

The vet wants $290. 95 to euthanise him. I wonder why they waited until almost 6 pm to give me this news (I dropped the urine sample off at 8.15 am) and now they tell me it’s so urgent to euthanise him.

What the fuck is this mercenary psychological bullshit?! But they offered to come pick him up as they know I am sick at the moment. (Or meet in the car park?!) So that’s nice. I suppose.

I will take action tomorrow. Nothing I can do right now.

…

So this surreal horror keeps getting worse. I just rang RSCPA to book Socks in for euthanasia at 3 pm tomorrow. The woman on the phone takes down my details then tells me they won’t accept him unless I can prove he’s my cat.

I said “He is my foster cat. The receipts from the vet yesterday would have gone to Sally.” So the smart arse cuntish thing says “Any photos then?” I screamed at her “Is this some kind of a joke…fuck you”.

RSPCA… mercenary bastards like most vets. Vile.

Of course I have photos, and videos. I have had him in my care for 7 years. In a crisis they want to push me to the edge.

Update: I received this text from RSPCA so this is my response.

@Kelly Anne: I have reached the point where my fuck off mode and cptsd Tourette’s language is getting a bit florid, my love.

But I do get discriminated against when they hear my pronounced NZ accent so I am used to this abuse. (And should not be…as it’s unacceptable!)

It’s especially unconscionable as the woman could hear I am genuinely sick as I was giving her my details between bouts of epic coughing.

But anyway thank god that happened as we might be able to save my boy. So all good!

Kelly Anne: Pls take care of YOU too! Especially right now. You are a FABULOUS woman who DESERVES to be given a fair go from other ppl & organisations & society at large AT THE VERY LEAST.

I sincerely hope they do choose to fuck right off & leave you alone. You don't need this.

Me: Kelly Anne hugs. It’s okay. I have genuinely good people in my life and as for the rest of those monsters…pffft!

Kelly Anne: Im sorry the bastards are harrassing you. You should mention they they are gas lighting you too. They do get into a bit of that you know. Assholes.

Me: I have not made this a Public post …yet … too sick at heart and physically sick to go to war on their venal heads.

I did not answer their call as Sally was on a call with me to discuss treatment options for Socks.

So hopefully tomorrow morning we can put this current nightmare to bed and save Socks for a few more years.

Kelly Anne: Omg what a bloody nightmare. The RSPCA are just interested in self-marketing & profiting off peoples well intended naiveness about the level of good they actually do for the community.

Yeah best to hold off though. Lifes much better without lawyers & police calling around to protect their beloved useless favourite unnecessary discriminatory causes.

Me: Kelly Anne I had to fight them when my neighbour had neglected and then basically tortured his sheep when it got mauled by dogs. I was traumatised for two months after.

I only contacted them as I thought it was the last resort.

Glad we have a more beneficial outcome..tomorrow we shall know what is best for Socks.

Kelly Anne: Let me know. Wish I could physically BE THERE for you.

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Me: 9 July 2022 @Bregje Tit he was a very strong boy. Unfortunately he crossed the rainbow bridge this evening. A quick and peaceful passing. I am grateful for that.

Bregje Tit: Tanya Arons oww I am sorry that's so sad. But agree, a quick passing is a relieving thought and makes it easier to accept.... he's peeing over the clouds now... 😓🌻⭐ maybe his spirit will be around for a while. A very big HUG for you 💖

Me: All day was a dark grey Misty day but towards the late afternoon the sun came out. I took it as a sign that heaven was opening the gates for him.

He will be at peace now. Safe with all the other beautiful spirits that blessed our lives.

8 July 2020

I had a weird epiphany last night, around 2 am as I was still not sleeping. I realised I lived my entire childhood, adolescence under constant threat. Threats of rape/molestation, beatings, terror.

Fears of not being worthy of love or respect or even basic safety. Which made me want to be a mother to gift myself a loving family and be the person in someone’s life that I never really had in my own.

But even that was robbed from me by my familial Abusers. Also the latter abusers I invited into my body and my soul.....fuck them all.

So last night I flashbacked to how my beaten-down growing child’s form around the age of 11 started walking strangely, pigeon-toed. With a hunched-over back (to shrink myself to avoid the constant slaps around my head and face!)

Something told me (my higher self? My angel?), Tanya...no matter what or who comes your way (and there are bastards EVERYWHERE) you straighten up those feet, walk slowly on the earth, walk in dignity, walk in pride but point those toes straight ahead. Look every person you meet right in the eye. Tall, short, good, bad, ugly, false or true. You look at ‘em.

They will hate you anyway or love you according to their own spirit or capricious whims but you stand straight and tall: shortarse...but that’s okay. Those creeps wanted you dead. They wanted you broken, beaten, tormented and debased.

There’s nothing you could do about that: not as a child and not as a Woman but you can walk on your own feet and turn them facing the distance and follow your path strong and true and proud. And if you die, you die and if you live, well, there are many things worse than dying but even these you will overcome.

In time...decades...eons...the right people will See you, will Love you, and if not Agape Love...they will protect you and honour you and gift you another kind of life.

So here I am...Hineini. Alive. Happy. In love...with my life. The franchise of Death failed to kill me. We know who they are.

Valhalla is calling me...warriors and Valkyries. They keep a place in the dining hall for me. They feed me Sweet mead, the ambrosia I drink in my sleep that heals me and gifts me another day each day. A miraculous glorious love-filled day. (And often now most of the night too).

I will not live my life in fear. I will rise and shine in my own hardwon divinity and Rejoice.

They took my money, homes, terrorised me, my children and my pets, raped our souls and our hearts but we carved new ones. Out of the shitfuckery and the hate: we grew up and over. Alive in the psychedelic dreaming... beautiful!

PS I wrote this, this morning. Oddly it got played out this afternoon.

I walked Charlie and Bobo. A man at the end of the street called out to me to say hello. I commented to him that it was a glorious day and we are blessed to be alive.

He replied “Yes because there are arseholes everywhere! “ And grinned at me. I grinned back. Opened my arms wide, did a little Hobbit stomp. “Yes of course we are surrounded by them, everywhere we go!” Giggled. “But there are a few rare birds too!” He said he loves my bird and if he ran away and landed at his house he would keep him!

I frowned and wrinkled my nose. ”Aight but if that’s the case I would have to kill you!” We both laughed.

He said my dog is an arsehole because he’s small. I said “Nah it’s because he has PTSD from being beaten up at the dog park as a puppy so now he thinks he has to kill every dog he sees!...it’s a pain in the arse but I get it.”

I said he is funny though as he approaches other dogs wagging his tail looking all friendly, lures them into false sense of security then attacks them.

The guy said “He’s a Sniper!” I said “Oh ...yes...a Sniper! I like that. Yes I hadn’t thought about it that way!”

He said that he delivers white goods and it’s always the little dogs that are the most aggressive.

I laughed and said “Yes because when you are small you have to act tougher than everyone else otherwise you’re a Goner” and did my little stomp again.

Nice guy actually. He and his wife own a Staffy which Bobo detests with a passion.

So weird thing is... I go to get groceries at Coles at Greenslopes.

I am trying to park my car but some guy with tattoos is yelling at his wife and she gets out of the car and sorta glares at me but I am driving in and his car door is in my way. So he sees my look of consternation and shuts his door. I park but look up to see him yelling at me through his shut door.

So I piss blood because all I did was need to park my car not engage with his BULLSHIT.

So through my glass window I mouth “What the fuck is wrong with you?...just settle down!”

I am ready to go to war if I have to, but was hoping to avoid it as I have no “weapons” in my car apart from my heavy handbag.

But he looks at my face which instantly changed colour (and I am told my eyes change colour too when I am about to go Berserk!) He goes sorta pale. Starts shaking. Nods to me. I nod back.

Then he drives forwards into another car park in behind me. I’m like, What the fuck?! I get out of my car, grab my bag. Start walking towards the shop. He’s following behind his wife, still yelling.

Another man sees it all. I said “Just another maniac probably speeding off his dial. But I am worried about the woman”. The guy agrees they had been fighting. But he does not want to get involved.

Anyway I see them both again in Coles. I step up to the woman and ask if she is okay if not I will call someone! She’s been crying but she stolidly tells me she is okay. I said “Are you sure!?” She says “Yeah”.

Fuck…I think… this is how women wind up dead. Full blown denial. But her man sees me and does not try to start another fight with me and they both leave and all I can think is how amazing it was that he didn’t attack me in the car park and backed off like a long dog when I told him to Settle Down.

Looks like my Angel put the fear of God into him as he was quite scared of me. Bullies and cowards. Fear good powerful women who have survived more monsters than they could even dream about in their worst nightmares.

I came home a bit rattled. But have eaten well and have kept up typing. Grr.

…

Coles had serious food shortages again today. Hoarders I suppose, at it again. It really is pissing me off!

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8 July 2019

I had a lovely day with Jarrod. I felt weak and slightly dizzy until the late afternoon. Then I perked up for a while. We watched a show called “Flowers” on Netflix which was a quirky dark comedy.

I do love the British and their darkly florid way of looking at life. It must be all those low ceilings, and constant dampness and I don’t know, ancient trickster sprites fucking with everyone’s minds.

I should like to visit England one day. I briefly was there at Southhampton to board the Ellinis on our return voyage to NZ, when I was 8. But I remember nothing of it, except perhaps the train station. Hmmm and pontefract lollies I could buy on board ship.

But today has been a lovely day. Thank you Jarrod for putting up with me in my expansive hyperbolean declaiments all around IKEA. Love you x

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I had a funny thought. My mother in later life, during the declining period of our relationship, would ring me up to tell me excitedly that she had bought me a present of some kind. She often thought she could purchase my love/approval/ time/ attention with trinkets or fripperies.

She would demand that I drop everything to come to her to gather up the gifts she so meritoriously offered me. (Some were gifts from my Auntie Lotte in Germany too..held ransome!)

If I failed to leap to her beck and call, she would wait until I eventually (usually only a day or two later) arrived then tell me I was not getting the present now. I would find it sad and a tad confusing but invariably would just shrug or roll my eyes. My “gifts” were not always physical but I discovered those only in recent years.

So at some stage I made a little intention for myself. That I would NEVER EVER be bought and paid for like a trussed up old whore (no judgement on women who sell their bodies to stay alive!) and that no man/woman/child or spirit would ever OWN me again ie I would not give them authority to abuse or control me.

I asked God to bring back to me all that was meant for me by divine right, all the blessings, goodness even my own “success” that had been stolen from me or purchased for me then declined through no fault of my own but that I refused to play narcopathic games.

Then a very weird thing happened. Buck Scherer who had turned my mother (with so much ease as she already hated me) against me and had spent the last 10 years of his life divesting me of my rightful inheritance with salacious vicious wills, a fake dvo and other arrant vile mischief...up and died. Awwwww. Not!!!

The public trustee and adult guardian, well aware of the abstemious corruption they had also actively enabled, allowed me The Tanya to have my mother’s remaining chattels. (How very kind of them?!)

Amongst her belongings I found not only some of my own possessions she had somehow acquired when I moved out of her home in 1996. But I also discovered gifts that she had told me about but withheld from me out of spite. Like the metal viking torc that I wore until the wire braiding split apart. A symbol of my victory over my terrible toxic family.

A few years after that one broke, and the gold one my former sister had bought me broke too, my daughter bought me another wolf torc in, of all places, Glastonbury, England.

The magic is strong with this one. My spirits and guardian angel want me recognised as a woman of valour and a warrior goddess. Every woman in my family either consciously (or in my sister’s case, rather unconsciously) recognised my spiritual status as I had had to fight since infancy for my tiny ignoble absurdist place in this world.

So I take my small intrinsic honour and I bury it deep within my heart and mind.

Little gifts: stolen and reclaimed. Or gifted out of a strange preternatural devotion or perhaps even remnants of love as that was all I got. Scraps of love from unloving abusive family.

My real loves were my true friends, and pets, the sun kissing my hair, the wild winds that whipped into frenzies and purged the dreck and dross of false and evil spirits that surrounded me.

The sea that always blessed me and comforted my fiery spirit. Rain (not too much!) on parched soil. Singing in the Sephirot. A kiss before dying. Lovemaking with worthy companions (or those I had hoped might choose me for longer than a night or two?) Hahaha.

Little gifts of wisdom amidst heartbreak. Pearls before swine. Treachery and debasement but look..oh look, up She rises. Twinkle toes, twinkling eyes, wrinkled nose and furrowed brow, silvery stretch marks on Donai belly, laughter in my throat and chest and warmth there too.

Gathering and harnessing my vitality in a life that made no sense. “One can never make sense out of non-sense”. A former friend/enemy’s wisdom. Yes. I was listening. Learning as I go. Even as I was being stabbed and shunted and shat upon.

“Just show up with two bandaids and a cork”. A former doctor friend who lent me money. I paid him back. 15 years later. For that ignominy. I forgave.

Men, successful ribald earthy men who only see a woman as a sexual object have their own learning to do. Doctors don’t impress me much. Nor do lawyers. Or anyone usurping their power to debase, defraud or rob others.

From the highest of society to the lowest echelons: competition and greed makes beggars of us all. Says I who was forced to grovel to merely exist on a Disability Pension and grateful for that as without it I would not have survived. Others across the globe worse off. Starved, beaten, raped and forced into slavery.

But I too had been a “slave” as a child. I had a long taste of that treachery. So what does it all mean? Nothing. Meaningless twaddle. Sychophantic felicitous fellating follicle-raising Bullshit. All of it.

But I wear my own heroine’s journey on my sleeve along with my heart and my torc…and I walk on.

8 July 2018

I had a wonderful night last night, talking to Nigel and Lynne in NZ. (While making homemade pizza which was quite yummy. I ate at 11:30 pm then hit the hay and slept like a baby until my 3 cats and dog had some weird feral bouncing off walls party at dawn. Little bastards!

The sun was just seeping above the horizon. It was a strange silvery colour. So I let Bobo out to pee. Staggered back to bed and passed out again until 11 am.

I had a chuckle to myself about seeing the nascent sunrise though. I should have gone outside to greet the sun and do some sungazing which is very good for our calcified fluorided blocked pineal glands but I was too tired.

Another day has begun in The Tanya’s exquisite timing.

…

The Tanya shimmers in the sunshine, the glistening mirage of her life, she sheds her old skins, cracked and despoiled, naked and sacred she gleams her streaming dreaming into the Void.

A thousand clamourous screams echo back to her from the past. She giggles. Bestows blessings and healing on her own head. The screams were her own and they rise like mist and like joyful memories convoluted with the pain.

“Where were you when I needed you?” Why, here Child, I was here all along. I brought you comfort in the Dream and earth angels in the streaming screaming terror.

They came to you as gifts and they stayed with you as long as they could to protect and defend you, to hold you Sacred and precious, to Love you when love had only ever been a false debased and tortured beast, a foul mimickry and a mockery of a jaded faded mockingbird (oh how they loved to sing that to your infant, already traumatised and programmed brain).

Taught you love had to be bought and paid for, begged and pleaded for, plotted and declaimed for when all along Love was You!

They jostled and hustled and muscled their way to own a piece of your broken heart. So broken there were enough fragments like glistening reflections and minuscule refractions to succour and delight a million souls.

Ever diminishing returns, my Love, but in the Hologram matrix it remains replete and complete and infinite. My unfaded copycat mimickry, it flaunts and jaunts and turns again. Unbroken in the Dream. Seamless in the seam.

A song is heard from on high! Be it Angels??? (Nay! ). Giggling.

It is the song we birthed you into your existence. The song of your spirit and the music of the spheres. We made it from your keening and we embellished it from your blossoming and like a lotus flower, its resonance can be seen unfurling into Infinity for you are the one we needed when we seeded you into existence.

They could not know they could not hold you back or down for magical creatures remain...if only in our own imagination...and are never lost, for there is always one who Sees and one who Hears who will bring you back into your full glory).

Who the fuck is she? Yourself, my child, your Self. Unfuckwithable, for you are the Answer to your own longing. Your own Belonging. Everything you ever need is already inside you.

So go and glow and fear no mortal man or woman for we are but flesh and blood and tears, but we are also spirit, light bearers and laughter.

…

I trained him to chase the scrub turkeys away as they nested here for several years but their babies got picked off one by one each morning and it was just awful.

I had to bring him inside so she can escape the garden a tad more peacefully.

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8 July 2017

8 July 2016

Rough night. I went to sleep around 10.30 pm. Utterly exhausted. Woke up at 2.30 am. Didn't get back to sleep until 4.44 am. Super-charged dynamic energy core even with sciatic pain and mental exhaustion. I need to sync up! Synchopated dissonance is not cool.

Asthma, restless leg syndrome, exhaustion, back/hip pain (which made turning over in bed extremely difficult) and feeling like I should be running a marathon because my spirit wants to rampage but the body is weak is insanity. Or dying?!

Anyway, the Beau Meister just dragged me out of bed as he needed to pee. I have been lying here, listening to him loudly grinding his bestial little teeth on his latest bone.

It sounded like a workshop in here. Grim way to wake up. The sound of Machiavellian carnivorous crunching of dead things.

Penny at least had the good grace to awaken me with a mewling head butt with her cold but soft fur.

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11.18 am. Experiencing a shift in my consciousness. Something called Euphoria. How the FUCK I can be euphoric when I am in so much pain is beyond my ken? But I know to trust this process.

I have been laid low for weeks after a clearing of old emotional wounds was forced upon me by the ghost of a former lover/enemy (an unworthy weak meritless creature he was too but I was blind to that fact back in that time and place) so here I am, surviving another alignment. What goes down must rise again! Spectacular ascent to the gods of Love.

Arise and shine and reap the blessings of the gods (and Adonai! Whom I stand before and whom will not release me from this binding to planet earth until I have completed my Mission (whatever that is?!) Blech!

Blessed are the meek, the seekers of truth and the Warriors of justice, righteousness and love for without those rare fine creations, there would be no Beauty, Humour or Honour. No reason to go on. No present no future. No Thing.

Update 8 July 2025: lol he was back, haunting me while making my YouTube video last night. I just find it amusing now. Living like “The Ghost and Mrs Muir” is astonishing at times. But he’s harmless enough. He disappeared for three months so it’s interesting he’s back, talking to me while I read stories out loud. Like an attention seeking brat. (Which I guess he always was…fragile ego strength and all that psychopathic jazzzzzzzz! Lmao!)

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11.37 am getting out of bed. Watch out world! I am ready!

Also Bobo is demanding my attention by whining and howling at my back door. He needs to go to the dog park and I need a life!

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If you have been my Facebook friend for longer than a year, you know way more about me than any member of my former family living or dead. I don't know whether to commiserate or congratulate you.

If you are still on my list you are either very brave and curious. Or a voyeur to the trainwreck of my life. All good. All for our highest good. We learn to teach and teach to learn.

Life is humbling, crumbling, mumbling and stumbling but it is also miraculous, spectacular (spectator sport ugh!) or just plain ...spiritual. And it goes on. With or without you.

We pass this way just once, even on the Hamster Wheel of Oblivion. You can run but you can't hide. You are seen by One Who Watches and Waits. Heaven knows best (and if It doesn't then pass me the cheese, the lights, the whistles and bangs so I can pretend I am a success in this scientific experiment of a life.

It's all illusion Man. The moon is a hologram and I am a breathing, coughing, wheezing, belching, farting little Kwaussie Bleeder trapped in flesh and a finite vehicle so if Life is an illusory delusion of a great God in the sky then he can put that in his pipe and smoke it.

My illusion of existence is poignantly real. On or off the medications. Real! Keeping it real while cutting the cheese!

Blessed be Adonai the true Judge (and Comic Genius!). Amen v' Selah!

8 July 2015

12.08 am. In bed. I suddenly felt like the life force was sucked out of me. Chronic dysthymia is a bitch.

Then I remembered I carried a heavy albeit small chest freezer off the back of the ute. Put it on a rather defunct trolley and with stoic determination and the adrenaline of 3 men schlepped it uphill to the back of my house then fought with it until I managed to drag the old freezer out and put the newer one in the laundry.

Then I jostled the old freezer to the kerb. All by myself. I am a champion! Also an independent woman. Also an idiot. I managed not to drop it on my foot or break anything. Then I realised why I am tired! :-)

I rang my bank to chase up the $300 Coles Express defrauded me. So another struggle but that will get resolved I hope.

…

10.17 am. I woke up early. Might as well get up, let the chicky babes out and make a cup of tea :-).

I have a debrief this arvo. So tired. Such is life.

…

11.49 am back in bed. I don't feel good today. Asthma is back and my mood is very murky. Blech! Too much stress lately.

…

…

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Me: Definitely. Tabs would love it!

8 July 2014

Happiness is having reading glasses. Found on the floor of Jarrod's car. 6 weeks to wait for M.A.S.S glasses. It will be amazing to see clearly again.

8 July 2013

Up and at em again. Had another long nap. Can't seem to function these days. Haven't felt this weak since Mar 12 when I had the Septic Arthritis.

I hope I shake this bug soon.

…

Still sick. Chatted on Paltalk from my boudoir. Then took Bella for a quick walk now feel worse even though I rugged up. Jarrod visited at midday and brought me lots of NZ lollies so now I am a happy little vegemite with a sugar overload headache but well pleased with myself.

Jasmine stopped by for 30 seconds to give me back my Citizenship Cert. Phew! Scary to lose those things.

I might head back to bed and watch Game of Thrones. Or sleep!

8 July 2012

Ok weird random thing! Yesterday arvo (it's 1.22am Sunday now). I was syphoning out the grubby water from my small fish pond out back. So the hose got blocked, so stupidly, I sucked on the hose a bit more to encourage the water to flow better through the hose.

Yup you guessed it. I swallowed some gross water and immediately started throwing up but failed to dislodge a tiny leaf or stick which is now lodged in my oesophagus. So the day went on without too much bother after bringing up a bit I’d hoped the icky thing down the back of my throat was gone.

Alas no, after just taking a nice warm bath the icky leaf thing began to irritate me again. So after throwing up a tiny amount, from the body trying to eject the icky thing without any success I am now sitting here thinking... Do I go to hospital to get them to help me expectorate this thing? Or do I dare go to sleep and hope it works its own way out or down or.... do I panic? Lol.

Silly Tanya. This is not the first time I've accidentally inhaled a foreign substance into my lungs or oesophagus. Last time was a sweet little Pussy Willow I put in my handbag that managed to implode into my Ventolin inhaler and the next time I took my puffer I inhaled one of the tiny floral fragments into my lungs.

So um, my corpus must have a veritable Forest growing in me. Fortunately the Pussy Willow has not germinated in my lungs, or has it? The leaf thing is a tad more gross than even the pussy willow. One day I may kill myself with my gardening efforts. Lol.

Update 8 July 2021: From 8 Jul 2021: My goodness that was a strange year, under constant attack with the Will Dispute then choking on foreign objects and the septic arthritis scare that year! It was like being infested with thousands of psychic vermin and I lived under a permanent black cloud like Linus in Charlie Brown cartoons. Was it Linus? The kid that always had a black cloud trailing behind him and was rejected and smelly and yet somehow still loved.

Oh well. I am glad that darkness has lifted and I see actually pockets of bright light and iridescent rainbows of bliss more often these days. (Even in my worst moments I know the gods have my back!) 🙂

I wonder how big that pussy willow seed has grown inside my lungs? What’s new Pussycat,.. wah wah we wah badam tish that’s nice. I am sure my body has broken it down by now. Clever thing, the human body. Resilient. Powerful . Autonomic and constant.

I sat outside briefly to breathe fresh air into my stultifying lungs as I have a barking bronchitis. I feel like crap but I am Alive and kind of happy! Kind of…. Because happiness is a strange mistress which I have learned to catch by the toe as She slips out the back door into the Void.

But I was always an innately happy Spirit and had it not been for my monstrous childhood I would have been even more happy, prosperous, successful etc etc.

But these were the cards I was dealt and so now I make the best of my imploding teeth, fractured but carefully kinstuguied mind (golden girl!), stoic spirit and fragile lungs and gut and pull up my big girl panties and bloody well soldier on.

Time is of the essence. I have manifestations to blow life back into 3D reality. True love, true friends, better health or at least not in a constant state of siege with my own body and yes…more creativity.

Happiness is a work in progress that you paint for yourself with the tools God gives you and if it becomes utterly destroyed by forces you were not responsible for or which got out of control then you paint a new design for your Bliss and start again. 🙂

Never everrrrrr let the Bastards grind you/we/us/me down.. ever ever again…mmmk….

“Them’s fighting words” …

“Move along evil sprit…nothing to see here”.

I have Overcome a thousand different tragedies and I shall keep overcoming but I pray the gods let me finally get my comforts, peace and joy in the eternal summer lands (preferably from Now until I die)!

And no I am no longer febrile or delusional. I know what I want, and I pray I can achieve it. With Harm to None, competition with none, let’s get this Life done.

…

Gail has driven me to ED at PA hospital. Grrr! I hate this place but there was the concern that the foreign matter might be stuck in my airways and if my system should React severely, I could die in minutes if my already hypersensitive airways should close up around it, with my asthma and Obstructive Sleep Apnoea I decided to take the opportunity to get it checked on and removed. Eeeek!

I felt fine all day but noticed I am coughing more and drinking tea seemed to irritate the area of concern.

So I am erring on the side of Caution. Being sensible etc.

…

I'm in the clear. X-rays were clear. I have a slight inflammation in my throat but nothing major wrong. Huge relief! Dr told me to drink some Coke as it makes the muscles of the throat work harder and will reduce inflammation. Pity I don't have any in the house but I can get some torrorrow no doubt. :-)

Sylvia Shine: get yourself pronto,to the doc or hospital,be sensible,do you want to suffer,for the rest of your life? x x x

try and swallow a piece of doughy bread it might take it down,i hope the water,was not contaminated,you may need a tetinus,so move your toosh,one way or the other. x x x

Sally Castle: Oh boy...doctor's surgery, Tanya. Hope the silly thing clears out. xx

Jarrod Neilsen: There was an old woman who swallowed a fly,

I don't know why she swallowed a fly,

Perhaps she'll die.

There was an old woman who swallowed a spider,

That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her,

She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,

I don't know why she swallowed the fly,

Perhaps she'll die.

Me: Jarrod, you are so mean...and funny! I will let you pay me out as you were there for the pussy willow incident which was most embarrassing and gross! Me vomiting bits of floral fragments behind the train ticket office was a highlight! Hahaha! This was quite similar.

How do I explain to my doctor that I have a foreign agent in my oesophagus and a pussy willow in my lungs without falling down laughing with embarrassment? I do promise to go to hospital if my airways close up. Day Two and I'm still alive and still laughing at my own stupidity so that could be a good thing 🙂

Jarrod: I have a little pussy,

And her coat is silver-grey;

She lives in a great wide meadow

And she never runs away.

She always is a pussy,

She'll never be a cat

Because---she's a pussy willow!

Now what do you think of that?

Me: I think you are Brat!

Sylvia Shine: some people have no compassion.

Me: It's all good Sylvia. Jarrod's been putting up with my shit for 20 years. A very dear friend even if he does have my kind of schwarze sense of humour!

He's seen me through a divorce, several breakups, several breakdowns, two family deaths and some good times as well! He's good people...much loved by me as he makes me laugh at myself which is a gift. Hugs to all my friends who love me in spite of my weirdness!

8 July 2011

My badly scarred Grandmother, Eva Meyer who was injured during a bombing raid because my vain 15 year old mother, Gisela refused to go down to the shelter without removing her rollers, so Eva kicked her down the stairs, then ran back to get a blanket and just as she got upstairs, the glass conservatory exploded from a nearby hit, so the glass lacerated Eva's face.

Gisela always felt guilty about this, but it was lucky her mother had not been killed. This occurred in 1943. Eva suicided 8 March 1949, after having suffered late stage Tuberculosis, widowhood, since April 1945 and a lifetime of mental/emotional problems.

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I'm so tired but I'm also sooo bored and now I wanna go out, like a Blister in the Sunnnnn, but no money and too cold and did I mention tired????? But this restless state of mind usually means one of two things....something amazing is about to happen to/for me, or there's a wild Storm coming lol.

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I took Miss Bella Rosa Arons for a quick walk in the forest because I felt so tired today I thought the walk in the fresh air would refresh me. Unfortunately she got a fright from a man walking his Rottweiler and didn't enjoy her walk at all, and I came home still feeling exhausted. Schmeh.

…

Crystal took me to see Dr Zhivago which I really enjoyed at I've always been a big fan of the movie. Crystal enjoyed it way less, hated the political side to it, the extranneous songs and the externalised acting.

That's the trouble with seeing stuff with a trained professional artist, they can see all the technical flaws. I did enjoy it though but I agreed with her that it could have been directed better.

8 July 2009

Happiness is a full set of healthy teeth! I wish I had them!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons