Thank You

All posts tagged Thank You

Crisis

Published November 8, 2021 by helentastic67

Crisis



I’ve recently suffered another birthday. Did I suffer? No! Given the alternative, I’d rather suffer another birthday.

I turned 48, yes! I know you were all wondering, so I just ripped the band-aid off. I don’t even have an issue with being this age. What’s in a number?

I’m going to start to bring into my writing influences of age and wisdom. Maybe this post should be called that? But it won’t always be subtle, but it will be there.

My beautician (yes! I’m that age where I consider I have one of those), one day I turned to ask how her day was and she had spent her morning helping a younger lady because she was not even upset but distraught because she was about to turn (wait for it!) 30.

Did you hear me? Fucking 30! Eye roll!

I asked said beautician (let’s call her J), “Did you slap her?” I am not about to shame the much younger generation so hang in there. Allow me to teach you something?

Up until 20, you learn, you play really. You know NOTHING, you think you know everything. Then your 20’s. In your 20’s, you sort out who you are in life. You hopefully work hard, play harder, but you settle into the who you will grow up to be maturity.

Then 30, again, say it with me now. FUCKING 30.

That’s when you should be able to not need to make the big decisions in life. They should be done with and should still be working hard and be able to play harder too. So, it is to say, I know I’m not ‘young’ anymore. But I’m not old either.

I learned some years ago I was no longer ‘Young’, when I saw a ‘cool’ pair or streetwear jeans on a younger girl and she and her friend were getting off the same train I was getting off, I said “cool jeans!” and she said nothing and after getting off the train, she and her friend shared an embarrassing giggle.

I clearly wasn’t asking where to buy them. I did my streetwear jeans like a pro in my 20’s and now my left foot would get tangled and I would fall over. Let alone, I can’t get in and out of jeans in a hurry when I need to, or I just can’t do jeans anymore.

But a lesson to the ‘young’, when someone is giving you a compliment, be graceful. One thing is required of you and I want you to practice it with me now. Say “Thank you”

Some old lady (me in this case) used to be you and she just appreciates what you have going on, even though she no longer can. That is the correct and only thing required of you. Most importantly, you will be old(er) one day too. (If you are lucky)

Now, to the older generation.

I know, I’m not as old as you, I already make the noises you make when I get up and to the older generation. You have not survived two world wars, one maybe. My friend Bette survived the second world war. She was fostered out of London, from her parents to stay with a family on a farm back in that era. The government paid the families to feed them and she tells me they used them as slave labour.

Anyway, I digress

I’m saying, I am old enough to recall a time when there was such a thing as customer service. Oh, what’s that? It’s when someone greets you when you go into a store and just in passing asks you how you were, it’s a friendly way to let people know you are there if you need any assistance and you would assist people even if it meant directing them to another store. Because the mentality was, if you wanted good customer service they would come back.


The irony is even with my blogging process, my cafe/writing process and my now Girl-Friday typing up my posts and the fuck you Covid putting a serious kink in my access to cafes to write and here we are I only just turned 48!

Not complimenting too many young people these days, but still intend to.

I’m More Than Just a Stroke

Published March 29, 2019 by helentastic67

More than just my stroke

I’m More Than Just a Stroke

There is so much judgement to having a stroke. Normally I get it by just a look sent my way from someone in passing. I usually notice it and go for the wry smile anyway. I prefer to kill with kindness.

The look

Sometimes others witness this judgement and they take care of it too. To be clear my mum personalises every single slight that happens to me. So, she reacts like it’s all happening to her. She can’t help herself.

Mum

But the carer while arranging her social engagements for the Sunday afternoon, she told her friend she had me in the morning. She described me as and in the context of “Helen’s forty-five and had a stroke.” Something about the tone she used, I responded with a “Yes?” with the end of the word lifted. Raised my eyebrows some. She sniggered a little and seemed reluctant to share.

Sniggering 1

Her friend’s judgement was swift “forty-five and had a stroke? That’s young for a stroke.”

I reminded her I’d been in my late thirties, but she informed me that he had put him (her friend) in his place, that I hadn’t been a drinker or a smoker.

Drinker and Smoker 1

Big love her way. Bless her cotton socks.

But I reassured her, I’m used to that level of judgement from complete strangers. I told her it was fine, I wasn’t even offended. I had a fairly thick skin in some ways these days and I will growl a questioning grumpy “What?” at someone who gives me a look of disrespect or I will give them a “FUCK YOU” if needed.

Fuck you

So, there are times, it’s just not worth it to need to advocate every single time someone disrespects me or I wouldn’t leave the house or answer the phone or deal with family. I would just stay home and wait to die.

Waiting to die

I do of course reward and thank people who take the time to simply step out of my way, so I can pass and I don’t make a big thing of it, so I incline my head slightly and give them a quiet thank you in their direction.

Thank you

 

Hot off the Press – 20th November 2017

Published November 20, 2017 by helentastic67

Hot off the Press 2011

Hot off the Press

OK, by the end of this post! Watch how I smash shout outs to my Little Red Truck guys, me Mum (Yes, on purpose) and my carers and a few special time-poor friends who never fail to deserve my thanks!

Monday! The start of the big moving week. I take possession of my new home. An apartment on the second floor of a six-story building. I’ve never done such high density living and I have paid my first month’s rent but was given grace to get bond assistance. Made a call and found out I didn’t get it. The whole process of being able to keep a roof over my head is the most soul-destroying balance of proving I can afford the rent on my income. Rent must be less than 55% of my income, but I had to prove I earn less than $48,000 yearly. (What I could do with that!) and apparently, I earn too much to qualify for bond assistance! It’s fucking ridiculous……….

Rental assistance

Now I have to find money for bond and to pay my removalist. I know I haven’t mentioned, but in my family, works on guilt. My mum travels often to do whatever needs doing no matter how financially strapped she is or how unwell or exhausted she might be. It’s a true testament to a mother’s love. My father doesn’t. He previously was able to contribute a little financially to my staying out of a group home that would have me go crazy! Or a nursing home, same result! My younger sister has actually assisted with some short-term loans, which feels so wrong. And my older sister who lives the closest to me will, help on the day.

Family help

By the end of Monday, my mum had managed to have my father help me with the bond and the removalist costs and I think he has disowned me because he feels I cost him too much money. If you can’t shake the funding out of a tree for people like me? Shouldn’t I be able to call on family?

Tuesday, moving day woke at 5.30am, at 7am, just gave up on sleep and got up. Didn’t stop all day. Everything I picked up was too heavy but I managed to stop myself from lifting my slow cookers or my LeCruset pot! (So heavy!) My moving guys came in the form of the Little Red Trucks! Two trucks by the names of RZA and GZA, (members of the rap group Wu Tang Clan), and Lenny and Carl (apparently the lovable duo who hangs out at Moe’s Tavern on the Simpson’s. My guys in red on the day were Dylan, Rory, Henry and Rohan.

Little Red truck

I first used Little Red Trucks was two moves ago when the guy I booked (the only person who is primarily booked by low-income people and funded by the NGO’s) stood me up by six hours. By the time I heard from this guy he told me he had been to the hospital he was so sick, by that stage I had not wanted to hear from him, I wanted to hear from his next of kin to tell me he had died! I felt it was the only reasonable excuse for not turning up!

When I first used the Little Red Trucks, they only had three trucks. Two of the trucks were called Hall and Oats, Salt n Pepper and I can’t recall the other. The drivers are all in bands, so it provides them with a regular income from a day Job. The first guy I dealt with years ago was also a carpenter. The trucks are traditionally named after musicians who have influenced them. I don’t get the Simpsons reference, but anyway. Having 4 guys made it very quick and efficient!

I hope you are aware, I’m a real ‘housey’ kinda girl so I have a lot of things. On the day, as I was going from a three-bedroom unit that felt like a house, to a two-bedroom two bathroom less than 5-year-old apartment. So, down-sizing!

I issued a warning early: Any mention of ‘she has too much stuff’, it’s too small, it’s not going to fit! you owe me a dollar. I needed to set the standards early. My older sister arrived on time an hour after the guys and She pulled the last of everything all together. While my sister was demanding where some last-minute things could or would go, I introduced her to one of the guys, it went something like this, I was going to mention someone looking a bit like me but grumpier would arrive soon. She let out a “Hey!”, I turned to Dylan with the prosecution rests. All in good fun!

https://littleredtrucks.com.au/

Wednesday, everything hurts. Just everything, worst case of OCD ever. (no disrespect for people who actually have OCD) You know, you’re looking at an area in your home and think I’ll just move these few things and you have to find ‘something’ and you get distracted by the other ‘something‘ and I managed to find my immediate bathroom items, very handy.

OCD

The day went like this – moved some things, unpacked some things, did some washing. Left the house in shorts! (So, I don’t expose my legs to the general public, nobody needs to see that!) I offered my chiropractor, that she could make one comment! Then, we would never speak of it again!

Wearing shorts

The new apartment is starting to come together. But I still haven’t found the TV remote and that’s proving to be a needle in a haystack! It’s now late and I might struggle to get to midnight. I’m so tired and everything still hurts.

Thursday, had a carer for 5 hours and Sana and my mum really pulled it all together starting to look like a home. Had my first PJ day, since I’ve had a crappy cold for weeks now and haven’t had time to even stop.

PJ Day

Friday, had my young carer Jennifer again. Oh, how I’ve missed her! (She was on holiday) Managed to vote! (So I don’t need to go out on Saturday!) Shopping, just the basics. Late Friday night my mum left but not until she managed to give my old landlord an appropriate serve! My mum is not even a bit Italian, but she managed to tell him to make ‘this go away! And told him how dare he ……….xyz! (Just trust me you don’t want to know!) She got the biggest hug for that.

Friday

The weekend! Didn’t get to go off grid, hardly stopped unpacking, barely did any TV Catch-up! And haven’t completely nailed this 1am curfew to get to bed. Last night, it was practically 2am! But I’ve decided the foodstuff that won’t fit into the pantry I’ll just have to eat and I’m working on my bookcases.

Weekend

So, shout outs to my Little Red struck guys again. Dylan, my mum, my older sister Jo-Bunch! Younger sister A-Super chook, Tamsin and I help for tech support and Silvia for giving me the term, Sentimental. As in I can keep this T-shirt I’ll never fit into again for sentimental reasons and her partner Sam for assisting with my scooter shed. Countless carers who have had a piece of the puzzle.

Thank you

While, I’ve still got the cold, Mum and Jo got it eventually. Caring is sharing! I haven’t had a migraine! Winning!
Stay tuned for photos…….
Cheers,
H

New week

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