Love It

Alright, so I know I'm weird, but I get quite a thrill out of cleaning and organising stuff. In the past few months I have helped out family members with cleaning their homes to an empty, ready to move in state.  I am very proud that those of my own kids were remarkably easy, as they are all organised, clean individuals, and it was as smooth as silk. Then there was the one I wrote about previously that boggled the mind, curdled the gut contents and made you seriously wonder how people live in that way. That's when the OCD kicks in, the "I'm never going to be like that" mantra that I have carried over 4 decades.  But time isn't kind sometimes, and the way you actually want to live in a clean, pristine, carefully arranged environment just doesn't eventuate. Other times though, well, then it gets fun!  The spousal being departs for parts unknown to most of us, the localised offspring depart for fun and sun, the boarder retreats for fear of being asked...

I only just discovered this grey streak and it's kind of scary. I now bear more than a passing resemblance to Lily Munster! She had the coolest grey stripes in her hair.  And now I do too. These rapid onset solid grey stripes aren't the normal aging process though they are attached to a trauma.  Young people like me, being only 50 after all, get them.  I was quite surprised when I found 2 of them. I don't know why I'm surprised though.  The last 4 months have been a blur of change, challenge and confusion with a massive workload and little reward if I'm brutally honest.  I don't do things for reward, but when the tasks are huge, some small payout is a nice feeling that you got it right. First there was Emergency trip no. 1, followed by Emergency surgery no. 1.  Not major health issues just a discomfort for the loved one and some sleep deprivation for me. Then there came Emergency trip no. 2, followed by Emergency surgery no. 2.  They shared t...

This term conjures up all kinds of images of scones, jam, cream, chocolate cake, clean laundry, fresh smelling linen and preferably puppies roasting by an open fire. Yesterday I handed someone the keys of what was arguably the last family home that I had.  Well, my parent's home, my mothers home, as my dad died two decades ago. My first family home was a 3x1 in a Perth suburb, we had a dog and a cat.  Well a poodle, and an awesome cat to be honest.  Spot was a cool cat, my first rehomer special. The dog a poodle who bit me, and only liked my mother.  It had a pool that my dad spent endless hours cleaning, designing and maintaining when he was home.  There we some happy times, but they were overshadowed. It was a house of fog, you knew there was beauty there but it was hard to see. Then dad moved to his flat, which was only a few months, then to an aged care place.  Grandma moved two years later, and her little flat was truly a home.  It had the sm...

I swear, and I probably swear too much, but some times, some words I really and deeply mean it.  And this is one of those words and times where I swear through gritted teeth. Grief is a two faced, low life bitch.  The definition of a bitch in the dictionary is a malicious, spiteful, overbearing woman.  Malicious - nasty, cruel, harsh and intending to do harm. Spiteful -  cutting, straight to the heart kind of meanness.  Overbearing - oppressive, arrogant and masterful.  But why a woman?  Why not call it a man?  Because women give birth to new life and so does grief if we treat her right. You think you have dealt with her, put her in her place and finished with her til she rears her ugly head with a new death or new crisis in your world. But no, she's also sneaky & underhand!  She likes to sit quietly next to you on the couch at night.  Sometimes she's well mannered and let's you watch your programs, take part in conversation and ...

Redevelopment sounds like such a big deal doesn't it? THIRTEEN  MILLION DOLLARS sounds like such a big amount of money doesn't it? What does a small community expect of the two phrases worked together into a lovely press announcement by a Government Department?  They expect a big deal and a big benefit.  To quote one of my husband's famous, and slightly Shiraz fuelled speeches many years ago, they want everything to be Bigger & Better! But what does Bigger & Better look like in bricks and mortar? How does the community get to decide how that looks and what they want? How do you get more than a coat of paint and a new pot plant for your hard effort and dollars? The first step is to include community members from day one of the process.  I'm deliberately not using the word consumer here.  Consumers and Community can be very different beasts for the corporate and government worlds to deal with.  I'll explain. A Consumer Representative is...

Three years ago, this is how I looked.  I knew I was fat! Blind Freddie could see that.  This suit was a size 22 and only fitted due to it having an elastic waistband. Nobody said anything. I'm sure if I smoked someone would have said "Give those things up they are killing you", and I'm equally sure if I drank someone would have said "You've had enough". They are the obvious drugs, the obvious addictions. Food isn't!  Everybody eats, everybody loves food.  So, it's OK not to say anything. Partly that's because fat people are perceived as weak, so you don't say anything to hurt their feelings.  You don't even use the word fat! Over the years I used to groan when someone said "Oh you're looking well!"  To me, Well equalled Fat.  Maybe they did think I was looking well, or maybe they just didn't want to screech "Oh My God You are Huge!" Either way, people were nice.  They loved being around becau...

I remember when I was 18 getting the news that my cousin in Slovakia had had a child. I hadn't met my cousin face to face then, but being an only child with two younger cousins in Australia that I saw only rarely it was exciting. I raced down to the toy shop in Kalgoorlie and bought a giant Panda. It took two post bags and a lot of tape to put together, and cost me more to post than I paid for the toy to send it to this little girl born in a far away land. I sent gifts, remembered her birthday, and then 9 years later her brother arrived. I had a son only weeks before, and I could follow this boys progress with my own sons. I received photos regularly from their grandfather, father and uncle, and felt like I was a part of it all. With great excitement I met them when they were quite little, and it was only an afternoon, but so good to see them. We could not communicate well, their English was not good, my Slovak probably worse, but I loved every minute. My next trip ...