Memories: 13 October 2023

13 October 2023

https://youtu.be/lyx6VCkykz8?si=h93b2x_qpWiL3sXv

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I just finished recording my dream and todays “memories”. Finished my coffee. Here is today’s imagery. 🙂

13 October 2022

I just found out via Yvonne Fein that it’s Sukkot.

Chag Sameach to all! I am a Jew who is not just Ish-y but wishy washy. But Great Spirit/Creator knows why! 🙂

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On another side note: on the train, the announcer referred to passengers of the general public being conveyed on the train from one destination to another as “customers”. Eg “dear customers, we are stopping at such and such station”. I noticed he even stumbled over his words at one point and said “travellers” then self-corrected to “customers”.

Why is our government playing with language on our public transport system? What other words are they re-organising to warp reality? I found this quite eerie and dystopian.

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I enjoyed the AJS “Busch” pavé cutting bur demonstration today.

I learned a few tips. Most interesting of all is to use Windex when drilling holes in pearls for lubrication. I wish I had known that previously. I don’t use Windex as I make my own window cleaning fluid but I probably have some in my cleaning cupboard.

I also priced some much needed and much desired equipment. One lady suggested I join a lapidary club so I could then use their equipment. I told her I don’t like to belong to any club that would have me as a member! They all kinda stared at me. I quipped “Groucho Marx”. They then switched on like little light beams.

But I got driven out of an online jewellery club recently due to the group owner’s nastiness so that proved my own reality to be quite accurate. I am better off playing the longgg hard game.

Instead of joining expensive lapidary clubs or doing expensive courses which are out of my reach and involve playing nice to bullies or tyrants or others, with zero understanding of trauma survivors’ issues…psy sighs…I am better off investing in my own equipment, and learning by trial and error.

The lady got very annoyed and told me I would need a lot of support. She stated that I should not have to do everything alone. I replied “I’ve been doing this life alone for decades and I could write a long depressing book about why that is…but why bother? I am happier doing my own thing.”

Again they all sorta stared at me but I smiled back patiently. I keep myself safe this way. It’s incomprehensible to “normal” or “successful” people who never lived through what I have.

She cannot imagine how agonising it was with my fucking anxiety to even turn up today! It cost me dearly in nervous energy. So much so that I was violently ill when I came home! And I had had a pleasant experience!!

Imagine if the people had been condescending or nasty!!! (Of course then I would have gone to war on their heads so probably would not have sickened myself!)

I bought some tools I needed. Well, stuff I will add to my tool collection which will come in handy when I buy the torch (soon…be’ezrat Hashem!!!) I need a proper drill too. So that is another large expense.

But bit by bit I am gathering together all the equipment I need. And then it will be up to me to practise, practise, practise until I get some kind of proficiency.

I feel inspired and excited. The only stumbling block is my same old stumbling block: poverty and trauma.

But one day I will have finally succeeded at something that sparks joy and does not attract vicious envious spiteful psychic vampires…like I have a decades long history of doing…I might even find people willing to collaborate on projects with me, or assist me in my ambitions. A mentor, perhaps.

The Tanya is often too ambitious and strives to achieve the impossible. As I said to Mark the manager, I have made quite a few things with a shitty inadequate kitchen butane torch and a fake dremel that barely works anymore!

But for proper silversmithing, casting, melting etc and soldering larger pieces than jump rings…I will need that Smith Little torch.

I am tempted to sell my car to buy the equipment I need. It’s not like I drive it anywhere anymore. It costs me money and sits like a drive yard ornament. But that is a tad risky. So I will sit and plotz and keep making my dream, a reality.

And if the dream becomes an untenable nightmarish Surrealist horrorscape? I will go back to ground zero and begin a new dream…I am after all…the psychedelic dreamer (Laughter in the sephorit!) Aight!

Oh and the other interesting thing: on the train from Buranda station to the city, I was sitting behind a grandmother with her young grandson (aged about 5 or 6).

She was talking to him in German, describing the city and the various stops. The child was replying in English. He referred to her as Nana which really threw me as I am sure she would have preferred to be called Oma or Omi. I wanted to tease the child about that but decided it would be a tad creepy.

I had flashbacks of my own German mother who rarely spoke to me in German but I kind of understand why as I too, used to only reply in English. She says she just gave up. But I think she was just toxic and lazy.

Instead she resorted to gathering her German friends together and having them insult or denigrate me “Auf Deutsch” because the bastards knew that I could read body language and nuance better than anyone (another backhanded gift from all the backhanders!) so it meant I learned to comprehend German better than speak it and I always knew when those evil cunts were badmouthing me in front of my face, as though I were stupid or invisible!

Most of the time I wished I were invisible or dead. Well be careful what you wish for…eh? That came true for about oh, 30 years or more. (How does one say “Zombie” in German?)

Well now the Tanya Kind is back, aspiring to a grander lifestyle than the one inflicted on her. One she needs to create for herself, by herself, by her own courage and determination!

Anyway I was bemused when I arrived at the demo and the Busch representative was fresh out from Germany. A lovely man. He took one look at my Slavic/Saxon face and I could see instant recognition.

I made a huge faux pas when the jeweller setter arrived to do the work of setting the pavé stones and he complained he thought it was to be held at 12:30 pm.

I said “Oh no, it’s definitely 11:30 am and in fact I was a little early so “arbeite, arbeite, arbeite”. He would not know that I am Jewish (or used to be…now just “Ish-y”) so my dark holocaust reverence probably seemed odd or out of context.

The Busch rep came up to me at the end and said “You know, there is a terrible history and it’s being repeated again…” I smiled wanly. “I am well aware of that indeed, I am half-German, my mother came from Hamburg”.

He asked me if I had been back to Hamburg? It’s a beautiful city…I should go…. I said “No, poverty has stopped me from travelling. Which is why I hope to build some skills and a business as I am sick of struggling!” He commented that the airfares are now four times the normal price! “Power and greed”.

I replied “Yes, power and greed! Everything and everyone is just mercenary! We are living through very scary times!”

But I bought what I could afford and utilise for now. I will carry on creating…what? I don’t know. My beautiful life that was torn asunder from me decades ago…on a clear day I can almost see it shining…I hope it’s not another labyrinthine fool’s game of a mirage.

(Breathe Tanya…you’ve got this!)

And the reality is… I am quite alone. I am suffering. The world is crumbling right in front of my eyes. I am not stupid. I am not invisible. But I am trying. Each and every day to make something of my life…before it’s too late.

Oh and I made a video yesterday which I found myself telling people to create, art music, food, clothing and…shoes”. Today Mark told me he used to be a shoemaker, engraver and leather worker. Ahh, so I was intuiting “shoes” and it did not even make sense to me. I have to laugh at my weird brain. But there is the validation only a day later.

So what shall we create? I think a better kinder safer more supportive, nurturing World.

But I don’t live in your world...you live in mine. A cosmic blending, integration of Venn diagrams, of belonging, of becoming, of group identities I choose not to identify with, of human cruelties I reject out of necessity.

A loner, an anarchist, a psychedelic dreamer, spiralling into eternity. Going nowhere but staying here with my stolid feet on sacred ground. Diamonds literally on the soles of my feet. Diamond street. Another home I will never own. But a safe landing for the part 19 1/2 years. Oh the irony.

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5 hours sleep. Out of bed. Dressed, made up, fuelled by anxiety and pushed myself out into the world. I missed the train but another one in ten minutes. I will make it for the jewellery demonstration in plenty of time (I hope!)

Hypomania sucks and not sure what triggered it this time. But it’s only been a week and a half. What goes up must come down.

Life is beautiful. I am prospering in my own flowering (read that as “unravelling”). I haven’t had breakfast or a cup of tea as I had to hit the road running.

Probably will treat myself to something nice to eat when I get in the city. If I have time. Time is flubbery right now.

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1.07 am it’s hopeless! I can’t sleep. I am a self-sabotaging schmuck. I have a big event this morning and need to get up at 8 am and get to the city for a jewellery making demonstration at AJS. But instead I lie awake for hours, with a churning anxiety that if I could bottle that energy would probably have had me fly to the moon and back by now.

I am such a loser and a failure and I am sick of it.

I have tried mindfulness, deep breathing, everything short of taking a Valium. I worked so hard on sanding back my staff and a wand yesterday that my hands and wrists are swollen and now I have some weird pulsing pain in my right foot.

I might as well get up and do something as sleep is not gonna happen tonight. I am so sick of struggling alone and being unable to achieve the most basic of things. Ffs.

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I got up and took a Valium. I have resorted to medication like that in years. But I am in some weird fucked up hypomanic state so I need knocking down…and out.

Hopefully I pass out soon and get a few hours so I can keep my appointment. It was a great networking opportunity and a chance for me to learn something new. FFS.

13 October 2021

I just debriefed with my psychiatrist. I told him I am creating madly, nonsensically, beautiful things to avoid the Covid Epoch as much as possible in my safe little bubble.

Renovating old toys into earrings. Inlaying abalone into ebony beads. Intricate time consuming absurdist fripperies. I am utterly exhausted but yet still driven to create like never before.

He said, rather wisely… that I am creating beauty in an age of ugliness and deception and death cult and instead of indulging in my prior Thanatos existence I am loving life with Eros! Clever man! That is exactly what I am doing. Creating little delightful things that spark joy.

I just delivered two more Halloween toys to two more children in the neighbourhood. I want them to have something cute but also connected to higher mind and spirit. Perhaps a fond memory of me in the event I don’t survive much longer.

Perhaps in reality they will mean nothing. But I saw one little face light up in awe and delight. Little Lachlan who has a strange fascination for his wild witchy neighbour.

He’s four or five so it’s just adorable. I remember my own children at that age when every gasping breath I took (even with my asthma) was magick to them and their eyes shone with epic adulation and trust.

I need more of that 🙂

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13 October 2020

8:12am. I just woke up suddenly out of a very powerful dream.

I was at a party of a very large black man who had tried to seduce me at some stage. I was with a woman friend and the feeling I had, was we had not even been invited but had somehow stumbled into the party quite by accident. (One of my Interdimensional dreams I so frequently have!)

We looked at all the people, some of the women acting mawkishly sychophant. I walked around in deep amazement at the amazing artworks and sculptures. Women scurrying around with groups of other people offering cocktail meatballs.

Somehow my woman friend (who looked a bit like my former friend Jenny lmao!) and I are standing in a large opulent bedroom. We look at the bed. I say to the woman “We should not be here and I want to get out of here.”

I walk to a corner of the room thinking there is a staircase. But I see two small black children tucked into opposite sides of the bed. “Jenny” starts talking loudly. “Shh” I say, “there are two small boys here. Don’t wake them!”

I turn to leave but one of them wakes up and looks at us. Only they are no longer small boys but grown men in their early 20s, with thick Afro hair. They see us but silently stare. Ominously.

I walk calmly out of the room the way we came in, still wandering and observing the other guests and strange artworks that are graffitied all over. Searching for the message in the dream while simultaneously feeling a bit panicked as I know we are not supposed to be in this dream or space.

Eventually we come upon the excessively wealthy host. He is lying rather indolently in an Alcove. He takes one look at me, goes a little pale and starts shaking. “I hope you have not come here for a fight!” he says. I blush deep red. Yet another misunderstanding and an immediate assumption.

So I reply to the man “No, no in fact I came upon this party quite unexpectedly and have been searching for a way out, hoping you would not see us... I see these are your birthday celebrations. Have a wonderful birthday!” I turn to leave, but he replies “But you always have the need to fight, Tanya”.

I turn back to him and with my teeth gritted tell him “I did not come here to fight you or anyone but I will tell you this much! I don’t care if you are a Billionaire or a Pauper. I see your opulent lifestyle which is truly lovely and that is okay! But it doesn’t impress me much at all. I am only EVER impressed by RESPECT!”

Then with those last few words resonating deeply through my soul I was catapulted out of the dream into sudden wakefulness. Shaking with shock because the dream encounter felt so real.

I have dreamt of this man before. We have fought or bantered before.

But this dream reminded me in an instant of all the times I have stood up to wealthy powerful Misogynists and racists. Even as a young Bride. That filthy antisemitic pig Bob Jones at the Tongaroa Lodge. An entire shule who libelled me as a Nazi.

The family court judge who gifted me my divorce whom I had observed destroying the lives of dozens of women in his Courtroom that day. So I bravely and fiercely told him to his face what I thought of his performance.

The fight I had at the PA hospital after my abusive awful surgery. Again recently, telling the dentist at QE2 hospital that I thought he had been abusive also.

No respect there. It has all been a surreal long-standing Hunger Games miserable life, dealing with cruel amoral morons.

Yet here I am: The Psychedelic Dreamer. Awake and Aware in the seamless Dreaming of a Dystopian nightmare.

We are not Free until Everyone is Free. Including my enemies. Yuck! I want to be Free of those soulless witless evil shallow dirty bastards. Maybe when I am Dead.

In the meantime I will keep standing up and demanding RESPECT everywhere I am. It’s a matter of principle.

Megan Phillips: I think ye shall meet this man of your dreams one day cuzn, maybe you will even fight...he doesn't know your life or why you've had to fight, survival of the fittest baby.

Oh and was that sir bob jones from over here, he is just a wealthy mongrel...being rich doesn't make him less of one.

Me: I refuse to call that foul man “Sir”.

Yes I had a good look at the man’s face. He looked a bit like my acquaintance Herb as he had his large stature but his face looked more like the actor in The Green Mile - which in itself is telling as he has the famous quote about being sick of people being evil to each other and would vomit out the dis-ease and negativity from people he healed!

So there is that. I have done a lotttt of purging lately, both physically and etherically.

But I studied that man’s face well this time so I will recognise him if we ever cross paths in 3D reality but to be honest it’s probably just one of my convoluted trauma dreams and my brain defragmenting after yesterday’s upset with those vile dickheads Shine Lawyers.

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13 October 2019

I need to change this timeline of constant misfortune, ill health, death of my pets (a repeat cycle from exactly 6 years ago) and my own innate fragility. June saw me kiss lady death again and it’s been a slow laborious struggle to get back up on my feet after that. Only to lose two goldfish, a betta, my Betty hen, and now Sophie.

All the while pining for a lover, and wishing/hoping I could develop into the kind of person who is successful, thriving, and joyous.

What is the universe trying to teach me? I need an intervention or an ascension or a cuddle. Rocking my heart and mind and body with the vicious vissicitudes of viscous visceral fate.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkk!

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Last night Sophie asked to go outside. She seemed unwell so I was greatly worried. She has not returned. So exactly 6 years after Zulu died of a tick I have managed to “lose” another cat!!!!

This hot on the heels of Betty hen dying two weeks ago.

I feel hammered by the gods. Hammered like tungsten carbide into a wary weary old Wise Woman. I hope Sophie comes home so I can get her to a vet.

All my cats are of mature age. So one by one they will leave me. It is going to be very painful. My little fur family.

They gifted me so much love and support, more than most humans.

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13 October 2018

Interesting night. I have had 5 hours sleep. I danced all night even with a pinched nerve cos Mama T is irrepressible, indomitable and twisted like that. I watched as my friends began new romances and I was glad for them. We all deserve happiness and true loves in our life.

I was bemused when one of the regular guys came to sit near me and worried about my male friend being “hunted” by a woman who has only been coming to the casino in recent weeks. He asked me if he was single? I said “Oh yes, of course!”

Then he looked confused and worried as most of the regulars assume my man friend and I have a “thing”. I said “Oh no, we actually discussed it earlier. I am waiting for a man who is genuine and authentic and not intimidated by me. Also one who is not a bollocking bastard!” I threw my head back and laughed. Truth bombs.

The new woman worked my friend up. (Constantly all over him) and sure enough as a man is naturally inclined to do, he took the bait.

The guy who was concerned stood and watched me for a while after my friend and his new “lover” left. I just stared back blankly, with a resigned look in my face. No man at that place has ever been genuinely interested in pursuing a relationship with me.

I know it. After 7 years I really don’t care. The Dance continues... I keep myself safe and cherish, love and trust myself not to fall for any more dirty rotten liars. I appreciate and value my true friends.

Yeah sometimes I wonder...when will it be my turn to be happy with a man? But again and again I watch as they choose other women. All good. The right man won’t be so easily led astray.

I had a chuckle to myself later on. Women came to me in my utter exhaustion and demanded I dance for them. My gay friend watched me carefully. He loves me in a way. Non-sexual platonic loves. That is my safe zone.

Anyway this nice Maori woman with a huge pounamu pendant, in Greenstone, kept dragging me up on my feet. She introduced herself “Tisha”. (I have another friend of that name). When I told her my name she said she has a daughter called Michaela Tatyana. “It’s Russian. It’s where your name comes from!” I smiled and nodded.

Here is the guidepost from spirit: a few days ago Crystal and I had a discussion about my name. I told her my name is Russian and short for Tatyana. She was stirring me up telling me no, that is not right. My name is from Titania.

In frustration I explained yes it is, but Titania is the English spelling and pronunciation and Tania is short for that but my name is Tanya, short for Tatyana! (Queen of the Forest Fae!)

Blech, but what is in a name?! I said in the next life I will have a different name and perhaps be even a male again? Crystal smiled and said I should use my middle name “Desirée”.

I said I should but that name is an in-joke bestowed upon me by my half-sister as it means “the Desired One” (at the time of my birth, she was reading about Napoleon Bonaparte and his mistress/advisor Desirée who ultimately became the Queen of Sweden) but Mama T has rarely ever been truly wanted or desired. Also I know a few prostitutes with that name and I giggled!

She who will not be Chosen or bought and paid for or fucking sullied is not ever going to allow herself to be vulnerable with any man (after 53 years of epic epic abuse, misuse and grief), is not ever going to relinquish her power (Mana!) for a random fuck in the night. Nay, I deserve better than that. To be loved, cherished, nurtured, protected: if only by myself.

I think I am finally turning a corner...that was the message. Hold true to myself and what I want from life. Queens of the Faery world (Underworld?) are showing me the path I must follow. Maenad of the dance floor: sending my sweet friends on their own bliss and waiting for the One who won’t be afraid to Love me in all my glory and misbegotten story. Strong and true! Loyal and devoted.

Meanwhile I am snuggling in my bed with my greatest loves: Penny and Beauregard. Both pressed up against me with their warm bodies. Loving their Mama T as only animals can. Wholesomely, graciously and happily.

I am all that I will ever need. Even as my heart still aches for Dave who is long gone and aches for a new life and a new love that is not stained and mutilated by the artifices of superficial men. I am enough to comfort and succour me in my cronedom.

My laughter rings across universes and my tears depth-sound across eternity. This is my Destiny and every weekend I step up to the plate and let spirit show me what is real and good in my life and Whom is truly mine.... giggles...Next!

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I am going out again tonight. To dance the wild dance of the slowly dying Tanya. To boldly go where no man has gone before. New frontiers of actualisation and the realisation that I am a beautiful perfect Soul forced into a earth body that desires to overcome all my limitations and just Be the best most wonderful version of Me yet!

It scares men away! My tribal revelry and my fierce indomitable independence. My fending off the abuser while simultaneously, on the turn of stilettoed feet, drawing in the broken and lonely and lovelorn.

Push and pull. Curtsy and parlay. Parry and thrust. In G-d We trust ... lol! Duck and dive...survive to thrive. Jive Turkey my hide beyond the realms of current debauched paradigms to create a new Dreaming that lay foetal and infantilised for too many centuries. Whoa! HERE SHE COMES. Psychedelic dreamer weaving her truth and courage and light into a new life.

Unbelieved and unloved but misunderstood and betrayed and rejected, deselected, even desecrated. My pussy is formidable. My heart is the sanctified holy grail. My mind is a crystalline echo chamber of horror but also of great beauty and desire. My body is dying but there are parts of me being renewed in each moment. Old skins will be shed until I run out of renewability. Hello...telomeres??? How stunted are we now?

I face my own mortality with a stoic acceptance. Cuff it upside its head. The yawning engulfment of eternity blasts a halitosis gasp in my direction. Phooey! Off with you.

I seek something fresh and vital and life-affirming. So I stomp and twirl my body into oblivion. Love me or leave me. Practise to deceive me but know this: we will never be the same people again.

Our time together has come but once, on this broken cracked groove but get it right and that melody will haunt you and taunt you, beseech you and flaunt you in another lifetime or ten million...a curse and a blessing ... sing it Sephirot. I know you hold my Beloved hostage for me. But let him come to me..clean and clear and so very very dear. The much longed for One. Keep him safe for me. I am coming...

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On a positive happy note: I spoke to my nephew yesterday. He is arriving on 29th October. His wife and two children arrive a month later.

He is so excited and I am happy and relieved they have found accommodation. He is coming to stay with me for a few days to get settled in and organise furniture for the new home.

He even offered to come out dancing with me one night. Lol! I am not sure what he will make of his “Auntie” (he is my exhusband’s nephew but loves me more ...haha) in full flight!

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Just found an injured bush turkey with a broken wing. I have put him in the dog carrier. Will call Wildlife people. 😞

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Just spoke to them. They say don’t take it to RSPCA as they will euthanise it. Gave me a number for a bird rehab place that does not answer their fucking fone!!!!

He also suggested taking it to a vet.

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I hate the Holland Park vet as they negligently murdered my beautiful Bella Rosa.

Do I trust them with a wild turkey?????

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Maybe drive to woolloongabba vet? Fuck I am so tired but bird needs treatment. Off we go!

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I rang them at Wooloongabba. They will take him in. Thank god. I don’t want the little blighter (he is actually a big bird!) Euthanised

So vet says the wing is really bad. May end up being euthanised. I offered to pick the bird up and return it to its mound if they decide to treat it.

But on the way out the door I started crying as I already sense the bird will be killed.

It is weird as I was feeling so sad about my failure to find a partner in life then this bird gets injured in the process of building his mound and making his own little family.

Something bigger in the universe at play. Some of us are just not fated to be happy and loved and some of us run around all broken and desolate quietly waiting either death or a Renaissance. Well Mama T has done both: many many times.

But life goes on... Going home to my dog and cats to quietly repose my osmosing prosaic bullshit life.

As that evil evil fuck Donald Trump plays at every rally the Rolling Stones song “you can’t always get what you wanted but if you try sometimes...you get what you need”.

Well America needed a Fascist fuckknuckle like a hole in the head and I need....serenity. And a decent man in a society that lacks all of that.

PS. I WANT MY WILD TURKEY BACK :healed and whole. Bloody psychedelic dreamer.

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The male turkey is still building on the mound. Has not realised his missus is gone yet.

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13 October 2017

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Simchat Torah

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13 October 2016

Perfect alignment. Angels. Faith. Magic. Love.

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Like Qld policing who, when I rang 000 to report being threatened with rape and murder by Terry Rosilio and his cohorts, told me "to get a job".

Or the time I called them to come to my home after his boarder assaulted me and the cops who attended were more worried about the smashed up of strewn over my yard. I had smashed it myself after Terry lied about fixing it and had jemmied it instead). It was an old one, not worth anything but the cops cared more about a machine than my face.

They allowed Terry and his cohorts to abuse me and my children for 18 months until finally, at the end of my rope, I was loaned enough money to move house (thereby incurring a debt but I at least, had an escape route).

Psychopaths. Everywhere.

13 October 2015

Lyn and I are going to the movies at Victoria Point. I haven't been out to the cinema in ages! We are going to see Learning to Drive. Something fluffy for our ragged nerves.

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I still miss Zazu and Jesse! My pet rainbow lorikeets.

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True and enduring Love!

13 October 2014

Woke up at 4 pm. Boy, was I buggared!

I went in the garden to marvel at the beauty of Nature and am watering. Nature needs a little nudge now and then.

I was just having a cuddle with Frieda and Mischief, having finished watering the front garden, when nice big healthy drops of rain spattered us. Synchronicity. Here comes the rain. I hope we get a lot more than just a pitter-patter.

13 October 2013

Came home after an awesome night out. First had dinner at Lyn's with Crystal and Jarrod. Then I dropped them home and spontaneously decided to go out to IM.

I had a great time dancing with an old flame and a new flame. Lol. New guy wasn't actually dancing with me but I told him he was gorgeous and looked like Eric the Northman from True Blood. So Pete made a point of sitting next to him and shaking his hand Lmao.

Then it was closing so I left both of them and walked over to the casino and danced in front of my busker friend, Ellen the virtuosa Vionist til Dawn. Dawn broke with the most extraordinary aqua and turquoise skyline. Photo to follow.

Then the kicker... I come home to find my boy Zulu, walking funny. So FML another huge engorged paralysis tick. So off to the vet if he doesn't survive it, for euthanasia. Luckily I won some money tonight for first time on my life..enough to cover the vet bill.

My life is a giant hurdy gurdy ride with more Hurdy than Gurdy. Vomits! Oh well.

Zulu is 14 years old. So this tick shit is too much to deal with.

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Zulu is lying under a bush, catching breezes and the shade. He just had a lovely scratch from me. My heart is broken but he is still alert enough.

I just can't kill him off yet. If he survives the night he will have a vague chance but who knows? Cats are very good at fighting these things. If worse but still alive tomorrow, I will have to euthanise him. But holding out out hope.

This has been a shitty year for deaths. Bella Rosa, and 3 of my four fighter fish in past 6 weeks...now very likely Zulu too.

Yes, Larry, my G-d has a very fucked up sense of humour. Gives me with one hand and rips away with the other. It's not fair, but who am I to complain? It could be worse. My daughters g-d Forbid or my gorgeous friends...so I sit tight and wait for the Angel of Death to quit circling my house and life like The Hag She really is.

I complained to Brisbane City Council today and put in a request for them to spray the forest scrub behind our houses. They will think I am Mad, but I have been bitten numerous times, the toddler behind me also and losing our beloved pets (I can't be the only one in this neighbourhood) is just too much Bullshit for us to endure. The possums bring them on their fur from the scrub. So if they can spray for mosquito control, surely they can spray for Ticks as well!

13 October 2011

Looking forward to a great day tomorrow (and evening!) and a well-deserved break from bloody housework...grrrr. At least it's almost all done now. So I can relax again!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons