Tuesday, March 23, 2021

What a sewer this Parliament has become.


 Forget the Heading, look deeply into this gorgeous little garden. All of this beauty is locked into a glass bead and when used on the full screen is just mesmerising. I could watch it for ages but get frustrated when I can't turn it around to see what is hidden.

It's been a while since I could put my brain together to blog, still haven't been outside the front gates, still haven't found a pair of shoes that will fit. I did think I should weigh myself but good luck, the battery was dead.  And last week my neighbour died. She slipped on tiles or so she thought and cracked her pelvis. The Dementia which was progressingly slowly amped up with the pain and shock and she was gone in two weeks. The Palliative care unit came to the house every day and took good care of her and made sure she was never in pain and she just went to sleep and didn't wake up.

So I thought it was about time that I really got stuck into fixing my will. I was lucky and found my granddaughters on Instagram so I now have their addresses in Qld. De-cluttering season is in full swing so I sent all of my almost antique Christmas ornaments up in boxes. Next up went nearly all the wool I found in the sewing room. Miles of it, I never found a ball of wool I didn't like. I'm halfway through a black rug, the wool for a dark blue is packed and gorgeous soft antique warm white is also packed, best wool is Cleckheaton. This is mine, I have never crocheted a rug for me. There is an open bag in the lounge and anything for the Op-shop is thrown in there.

After 3 weeks of dithering I finally bought a new office chair, last one and $400 off the original price. The one I'm sitting on now was also on special but it's not comfortable anymore probably made for some skinny game playing kid living in his mother's basement. The de-cluttering of books has been successful just haven't been moved to the new home, I've turned the hall into a library. I live in a perpetual mess but I agonise over putting the books in the right class or just throw them in and get them off the floor. Sometimes trying to sleep I do dream about all of them in order but wake in the morning and have forgotten everything. I can only do it once, my shoulders hurt from putting up high and my spine sounds like bits of lego from bending to the bottom.

And when I'm hurting from books, I take on patchwork fabric because I can't find my nightdress fabric, my already cut out winter dresses and summer lounging frocks which I didn't need this summer anyway. The one thing I must make is a warm dressing gown and I know where that is. Trouble is like that pretty bead, I can't help playing with the fabric and putting them together for quilts I'll never get to make. If only my mind was a straight road and didn't go wandering off into the bush. 

All this has a purpose. Forgetting what pigs we have allowed to run our country. They don't care about us, they only care about power and money, their money which is really ours, and power. Power is the biggie. We can look down on the lower classes and thumb our noses because we are better  but it's all an illusion because you've forgotten who put you in that position. We, the people, we, the women and women have long memories and we carry grudges for a very long time. Even after all these years I could still wrap a brick round Howard's face. When candidates join the LNP, is there a form that says they must be ugly, greedy and dishonest? I only ask since most of them are.

I must go back to my bead, I've allowed myself to wander off into the bad place again.

10 comments:

Elephant's Child said...

Love your bead. Despair of our Government. Today's crocodile tears for himself have filled me with ballistic rage. Again.
I am sorry about your neighbour and glad that she was in no pain.
I need to do some decluttering too. In my head and in my house.
And yes, I have a very, very long memory.

River said...

That bead is beautiful. I'm in decluttering mode too, boxes of books that I know I will never read again have gone to Vinnie's, ditto clothes I know I will never wear again. I'm unable to part with all my beautiful Christmas ornaments, still living in hope of someday having a bigger place where I have room to put up the tree. I don't want a mansion, just a couple of extra rooms.
I've been reading about the disgrace that is our parliament and am so ashamed that these pigs are the ones supposedly running our country. More like ruining our country. All that drinking and cavorting while the people who pay them cry out for much needed, long overdue things.

Beth Waltz said...

Decluttering has become a game of gifting for me: Clothes to the women's shelter; books to the Little Library operations. Our county historical society couldn't open their museum buildings during the pandemic, so they focused on conserving the buildings and their collections. They blessed me with assignments involving grant-writing and inventory maintenance. Bits and bobs of my hoard now serve as exhibit backdrops, alongside real treasures others donated as part of their own "Swedish Death Cleaning" projects.

It's reassuring that your neighbor's transition was eased by a well designed program. As dismal a failure as was our national response to the pandemic, local community leaders have partnered with volunteers to care for our most vulnerable citizens. We're proud that our vax centers have run so smoothly that we're accepting folks in their 40s as they bring in their elders. (Friday we served a 100 y.o. gentleman who conceded we were "doin' fine".)

Nudging works as well as shoving, dear Jah-Teh. The job gets done all the same. Do keep a look-out for strategies that make self-care at home easier. Like the sound of that new desk chair, especially the "$400 off"!

MedicatedMoo said...

The bead is indeed stunning. Decluttering - and the associated stress and procrastination that goes with it - seems like the best way to avoid the stench of Aussie male parliamentarians that has reached us here in France.

Andrew said...

Even if you believe in 'you get the politicians you deserve', I don't really think we deserve the leaders we have now.
House next door coming up for sale then?

JahTeh said...

Andrew, we have made a pact, he's leaving the house to his grandsons and mine goes to my nephew. And yes, we are doing it to spite the estate agents. They've been after our blocks for years and we're not moving.

MM, it sounds insane but I have de-cluttered and now I'm doing the all in order putting away.
I found my nightdress fabric yesterday, also my cut out pillow cases, dress fabric in another see through bag and the badly needed winter dressing gown ready to go. The sewing room still looks like a bomb has hit it. Keep reading about our wonderful leaders, more dirt from behind locked doors is heading for daylight.

Beth, I bet all those wonderful helpers are all women. That's why men fear us, we could rule the world, get dinner on the table, hold a Peace Conference and do it all cold sober.
I'm no so worried about Covid but with the floods I'm more concerned with Ross River Fever, which you can get with one mosquito bite and my doctor already has a plan to deal with that.

River, it was a stretch to send off the ornaments but better the granddaughters have them now. I hadn't realized just how many beautiful decorations I had but they are almost in the antique era. That's how long since I put up a Christmas tree. I prefer to look at my glass paper weights all year.
Disgusting pigs in Canberra but they have done it now, the women are not going to take it any more. I wouldn't be surprised if we had another march that the PM wouldn't send out the mounted police to keep us in order. I go to sleep dreaming of country girls up ending the coppers and using the horses to storm into Parliament house. We don't need guns.

El Chi, I can't look at that lying maggot and his smirking face. My blood pressure goes up to full. If you mute the TV and just look at his face you don't have to know what he's saying, the expression says it for him. And adding his widowed mother to his crocodile tears yesterday was enough when we all know he'd throw her under the nearest bus if it got him one extra vote.

One good thing for all, de-cluttering finds treasures you thought had been lost for years, which means you get to sit down with a cuppa and play with them.

R.H. said...

Why all the noise? Slease in Canberra - golly me, parliament house has always been a brothel, every workplace in every city is a brothel, it's just girls and boys for goodness sake; I've had a root in a factory!

It's always happened; prime ministers and presidents, Profumo and Clinton, you might as well blame biology. When the shit explodes they all escape into hospital, suddenly they've got heart trouble, ha ha. Dirty old man Doyle began it.

Things have truly gone wrong when turds like gudinski and meldrum are put forward as idols.

Degenerates.

Sleaze extraordinaire.

R.H. said...

Wool is best. Wool blankets. I pulled mine from the 'dog bin' at Vinnies Newport. Ridiculous prices, a few dollars each. That's my bed, flannelette sheet on the bottom, wool blankets on top. What comfort. Good heavens, thoughts of cold nights as a boy and I'm soon asleep.

R.H. said...

It's biology. Trump was honest about it and the hypocrites squeal, they're squealing now. Say fuck on stage and you're a comedian, say it on the street and you're offensive. But everyone's interested. Everyone's chasing, women pretending to run. I rooted the conductress on the train up to Sydney, don't believe it and I don't care.

R.H. said...

When Dr Jim Cairns finally admitted his relationship with Morosi after lying about in court I wondered if all those classy Camberwell women would have continued buying his books at the local trash market - books that fell apart in your hands - and would his socio/political views matter anymore? Sitting out in the open on a wooden box like any other bum stall holder, Dr Jim was an extraordinary attraction there, while nearby a bloke played saxophone to a poodle dog perched on a stool. The bloke with the dog was pretty nutty, but then he'd never been one-time deputy prime minister of Australia. Seeing Dr Jim there was strange. It wasn't quite funny, more toward frightening.