(Or, is this rock bottom?)

Today was … not good.

The cough continues. The aches continue. Nothing is resolved. I don’t meet the criteria for Covid-19 testing here, so I could have it… and we’ll never know. Stuff like that can mess with your head.

I’m a step away from falling into the blahs. Which I won’t tell my mental health professionals about because they’ll want me to go on an antidepressant and – just nope. The last one was a disaster, I hate feeling like a guinea pig/lab rat “ooh, let’s try this one, poke poke, see what happens”… nope, I’m over that. If I’m significantly depressed, I know which antidepressant has worked in the past. I’ll be willing to take that. But I’m not anywhere near there yet.

We’ll all just keep singing happy little songs until this passes, huh?

Remember your social distancing and wash your hands



Since it’s still my birthday week

(I started writing this ages ago…)

and I was going through my computer today…

(it was “today” when I wrote the bulk of this post….)

I found some slides that had been converted to a usable format. All of my childhood is trapped on slides, little yellow topped boxes, hidden away. Stuck in a cupboard in Mum and Dad’s house. Somehow I got a few scanned, some… I couldn’t make any sense of, I didn’t know the story behind the photo.

But some I did.

I’m not going to apologise for the image quality, I could have tried to edit it, but I wanted to leave the authentic slide film experience.

Obviously my love of pointy party hats goes back a long way!

I was four. My Mum put so much effort into this whole party!

I think I count 8 kids? Maybe 9? And this with my sister still in a high chair. All that special party food, and the very special “Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe” birthday cake, which needed extra decorations.

Mum helping, me being imperious…

Nana was also there, so Grandpa must have been (photo to follow, I need to upload) and of course Dad was taking photos.

My childhood birthday parties were amazing things. I remember Mum going to so much trouble every year – not just the cake, there was the new dress, (which she made), and who would come, and some years I remember I insisted on themes….

Now I don’t do much for birthdays. It’s mostly a new book. I wonder what happened to the kid who loved birthday parties so much? Do we all just lose that joy?

Maybe tomorrow I’ll make something nice and birthday-ish, anyway.

Take time to remember, maybe cook something nice…. and wash your hands



Vulnerability is not a dirty word- or, yoga for the left/right dyslexic

Tonight, I went back to doing yoga. Something I’d been meaning to do for a long time, but this week’s email from Adriene resonated… and I showed up.

And it was tough. There were tears. There were moves I couldn’t do, (but I kept going as much as I could) and a long way to go. The class was 35 minutes of yoga for vulnerability and as I worked, with Emmalumpdogg helping (sometimes by blocking areas of the mat) I was grateful for Adriene’s gentleness. And her sense of humour. I didn’t think the end of the thirty five minutes was ever going to come and then there I was…and I’d even held two full planks (not for long, but I’d done it!)

Obviously, this is how I look while I’m relaxing. Obviously.

It’s taken ages even to write this much, as the pain is starting to kick in and I’m tired.

And did I mention I’m left/right dyslexic? So when she says things like “now take take your left arm and point that elbow down, down, down past your right knee, nose to the sky” I’m still saying “wait, my left is THIS one, it’s going THERE, and where’s my nose… what, you’ve gone where now?” But she’s so calm about it all I try anyway, and keep going, and do things I would never do if this was a yoga class full of people who could see me.

I might do more (a shorter class, one I’ve done before) tomorrow- or I might call it a recovery day.

For now though: get some exercise, talk with someone you love, and wash your hands!





Those online meetings?

Email? Maybe. Audio-visual? Please…. noooo….

because online meetings are EXHAUSTING

I had two mental health meetings today (not unusual, this often happens) but somehow, having to do them via telehealth was so much more draining than usual. Whether it was the lag time in the technology, or just my feelings of lack of privacy and security, I hated it. Haaaaaated it. But … it’s our best option while the pandemic lasts.

Badly lit, but this is no high budget production….

I fell over for a small nap, woke up for dinner when the hoon across the road roared off… and now it’s time for podcasts and maybe an audiobook chapter.

Maybe tomorrow will be more productive.

Remember, no matter how tired you are, wash your hands, and don’t forget to eat,



Breaking out, briefly

So today I got to leave the house for a while! I wouldn’t have even considered it but my throat was much, much better – just rough because of the huge amount of smoke in the air, coming from vegetation fires thirty-ish miles out from where we are:

And I promise that we left the house for essentials. Yes, bread, milk, pharmacy items – but also we went to Officeworks. Because now that we’ve all been told to stay at home as much as possible (at least, that was the last news I read, I haven’t read any since this morning, I don’t want to know if it’s a level worse than that) I am working through the book I bought for my birthday:

Lynda Barry’s “Making Comics” (see some great extra pages at the link below)

So, Mr Prime Minister, (or anyone else, for that matter) – we did it safely. We stood 1.5 metres apart from everyone else. We stood behind the marked lines at the registers. We used a tap and go card, not a pin. We washed our hands immediately on coming back into the house.


I’m serious. These, as much as my brain chemical medications, are essential supplies. It’s already tough going, finding routine, staving off the loneliness, finding motivation, without the usual external drivers.

And for those of us who already spent a lot of time on our own, and only got out for say, groceries or medical appointments, and now don’t even have those outlets ?

From the awesome Dorothy Gambrell, artist of Cat and Girl

It’s going to be tough unless we can find a new way to live. I’m going to use up my phone calls I usually let go unused. I’m going to try video calls with people who might not have done that before. I’m going to try and get a bit of housework done (within my abilities, if I overdo things I end up having to have a recovery day or two and the last thing I want is a depression spiral during self isolation.)

How about you? Any plans for different activities? Are you baking? Doing different exercises? Sorting through those books you’ve been meaning to get to? Sewing?

Take care of yourselves and each other. This isn’t the end of the world, it’s just… different. And wash your hands.