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So sorry. Was busy. Nearly died, Mum did die, life was a bit weird. Am back!

Know My Name


 and be grateful it’s not Karen

I’ve just read Chanel Millar’s book.

Chanel is the unnamed VICTIM in Brock Taylor’s Stanford Rape. See how that looks like an art piece? Or a play? Or something created by an intellectual human being??

Thing is. Chanel has literally been through hell and back and is really not recognised for that. I mean yeah – being unnamed victim at Stanford of Brock Turner is pretty special obvs. but the shit she had to go through. The absolute frickin’ nightmare she literally had to go through. And in the end whiny boy was like I’m not hurting, I’m way braver than that crying chick, but I’ve been damaged! Someone damaged me!!Daddy??? Fix this.

OMG. EVERYONE should read this. Not only does it exactly describe the female experience – OMFG how many times do you put up with guys just groping you before you get a pair of scissors for their best use?! and why, WHY?! do guys think it’s okay to expect you to jump into their car/lap/fingers???

It’s like I forgot how terrifying and powerful it is to be a young woman. I am absolutely okay with being a middle aged woman. Absolutely even okay with moving on to the next bit. In answer to Chanel – never. Sometimes you never want to have sex with, be touched by, talk to any one.

And Daddy did. And while pretty much the whole world sees Chanel as a person now, I’m almost sure Brock Turner does not. I’m actually more interested in Brock’s mum. And sister. Do they think this shit is okay because this is all they know? Does Brock feel like he can do this because it’s what his Dad and Grandad told him was right and true???

Sometimes it’s enough to just enjoy the noise, sometimes the noise is WAY too much.

And I’m truly grateful I don’t have to pretend anymore. Unless I want to. In middle age you become a wee bit powerful – like a man! Tell you what – I also don’t carry a handbag anymore! If my clothes don’t have pockets (I’m a woman, none of our bloody clothes have pockets) I just stick my license, car “key” and debit card in my bra. Like a man! Only, obviously the guys get pockets and don’t have to wear fucking wires taped to their chests.

And then I found this.

Which I love 🧡

https://open.substack.com/pub/kimfoster/p/on-getting-old?r=3mxj4n&utm_medium=ios

It’s women. Being old! Without pockets and genuinely not giving a fuck.

The very great importance of unicorns

The Very Great Importance of Unicorns

Gran works with computers.

Mum works with computers.

Dad works with computers.

Everyone works with computers except me.

Gran says her job is mostly emails and meetings.

That sounds ordinary.

But sometimes her phone rings and her voice changes.

Not louder.

Smaller.

Gran has a chair that fits her exactly.

It is brown and soft and makes a gentle thump when the footrest comes out.

When she sits in it after work, sometimes she is Story Gran.

Sometimes she is Funny Gran.

Sometimes she is Quiet Gran.

Quiet Gran looks at her phone like it is telling her something she does not like.

I do not like Quiet Gran.

When Quiet Gran appears, I get the glitter pens from the second drawer.

“Gran,” I say very seriously, “it is time for a unicorn.”

Gran blinks like she has just come back from somewhere far away.

“A unicorn?” she says.

“Yes. A very sparkly one.”

We draw it together.

Mine has twelve legs.

Gran never says that is too many.

After the unicorn, her shoulders are not up near her ears anymore.

Gran makes a lot of tea.

The kettle knows her name.

When she has meetings, she closes the office door and talks in her Calm Voice.

Her Calm Voice sounds like nothing is wrong anywhere.

But when the meeting finishes, she makes tea and goes out onto the balcony.

Then she says Very Loud Words.

Not at anyone.

Just into the sky.

The Very Loud Words are not allowed at kindy.

After the Very Loud Words, she drinks her tea.

Then she comes back inside.

On Monday Gran said we’d have High Tea on Thursday at three o’clock sharp.

She likes things to be exact.

High Tea is very important.

Tiny cups.

Tiny cakes.

Necklaces that are too big.

On Wednesday we polished the spoons.

On Thursday morning she winked at me and said, “Ready?”

I was ready.

At two fifty-nine I put on my sparkly shoes.

I set out the cups.

I chose the good biscuits.

I brought my best teddy bear, though it’s well known he doesn’t cope with crumbs.

Three o’clock came.

The office door stayed closed.

I could hear Gran’s Calm Voice.“I know we’re short.”

“It has to be done today.”

“Yes.”

Three oh five.

Three ten.

The kettle did not sing.

I sat in Gran’s chair.

It does not fit me.

It is too big and too full of her.

Four o’clock.

The door opened.

Gran came out already looking at me.

She didn’t look at her phone.

She didn’t look at the cups.

She looked at me.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Just that.

My throat felt funny.

I nodded.

Gran walked straight to the balcony.

The door slid open.

The Very Loud Words were louder than usual.

The sky heard everything.

After a while she came back inside and knelt down so we were the same height.

“Sometimes,” she said, “you get stuck in something that needs to be fixed. I really wanted to be drinking tea with you.”

I thought about shoelaces with knots you cannot pull loose.

“Is it fixed?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good,” I said. “Because the cakes are still here.”

Gran’s hugs are not quick.

They are the kind that make your bones remember where they go.

We had High Tea at four■thirty■ish.

Gran still works with computers.

She still has Important Face sometimes.

She still says Very Loud Words on the balcony.

The sky is very understanding.

Gran is mostly quiet.

Mostly funny.

Mostly ready on time.

And when she is not, she says, “I’m sorry.”

Then she makes tea.

And sometimes she needs a unicorn.

That is okay.

Because I am very good at unicorns

So this happened

When I was 48, nearly 49 – 48 and 3/4s to put it in my 4 yr old granddaughter’s parlance – I got very sick. I was off work with tummy issues to continue the syntax. Basically I was going at both ends and lost about 30kg (sorry my US friends, you’ll have to do the maths here – not my forte!) over 6 months. I’d been to my GP, had X-rays and bloods and anything we could think of. Good news! It wasn’t cancer, even better news! I could definitely afford to lose the weight 😏

Then at the beginning of January 2021 my colon burst. 

I didn’t know that of course. I know things were bad, I’d been to the GP on Monday and A&E (Accident and Emergency – ER basically) on Tuesday, and Wednesday & Thursday I decided to self medicate by drinking a lot of Vodka. In fact I know Thursday night I was on the phone to mum because actually the vodka wasn’t helping! Friday morning, about 6am, I got up and went to the toilet. When I clambered up to bed (long story, will explain much later) something went pop. It wasn’t an audible pop I don’t think? But it was a visceral pop. The pain was insane. I staggered out onto the deck, it was much more comfortable to sit with my knees tucked around my ears when I sat on the stairs than to try standing. Something was really wrong, but I was sure it too would pass. I rang my friend up the road, who also is not a morning person and she told me so in no uncertain terms đŸ„° I just said, once I could – Rhonda? Something’s wrong. She said shit, I’ll be right there. She rang an ambulance before she left her house. And that probably saved my life. 

So yeah. Bowel perforated, body was already in distress – they kept asking me at the hospital when I’d last eaten. I knew this as it was a mince pie on Tuesday and it violently evicted from my body very very quickly. 

Then there were lots of drugs. Like LOTS. I’m not complaining about that – the pain was unbelievable. But it meant that when I was giving consent for them to fix what was going on I really wasn’t able to take it in. Again – not going to argue, it was necessary and urgent and I get that. But the last thing I really remember was that call to Rhonda on Friday morning. And when I woke up on Monday morning it was to a nurse, with a bag telling me that this is something I would have to do myself now. WTAF? 

It was awful. And I can only be very very grateful to the colonoscopy nurse as she had expected a level of knowledge I REALLY didn’t have and she took me back to basics with grace, kindness and understanding. I mean all the nurses were awesome, but that poor woman was lead to believe (because I’m great at nodding and smiling) I had a level of knowledge that it was very quickly patently clear I did not. And didn’t want to. Though I sucked that up pretty damned quick because I also didn’t want anyone else in there doing shit. Literally. 

This has become a verbal dump I didn’t expect tbh. Was going to talk more about middle age-hood and well – menopause. But I didn’t get menopause. I had this happen and have had two very short periods since then (I’m now 52). I definitely haven’t had a period in the last two years. I’m not even sure if I’m having hot flushes or it’s actually hot – I think the latter as the “hot flush” lasts more than an hour and apparently that’s not how hot flushes work. Anyhoo! 

Point is that this was going to be about my menopausal experience and how very glad I am not to have someone around that I have to make feel better while going through stuff. But it became a different experience. I was going to delete it. But I won’t. Just in case someone out there is in the same place I was and maybe can get a better heads up? Maybe?

The pics are me in January 2020 and then me in March 2021. Only I can’t upload them as I need to change my plan. Which I will do. Once I’ve got myself sorted.

Mum’s 70th part two

So. We’re quite comfortable with the idea of travelling down south, merrily picking up people on the way
 actually loved it a lot! We’ll all chip in and it will be an awesome convoy to Invercargill. And despite popular opinion Invercargill is actually awesome!

Fat Bastards Pies.

Oh my gosh.

https://www.fatbastardpies.co.nz

So I was excited about Invercargill, Fat Bastards Pies, and my mum’s 70th and the grand reunion around that. Also obviously my grand daughter, who, while was not present was absolutely part of the proceedings.

Of course we didn’t go down in convoy. Of course we didn’t co-ordinate in anyway except see you at the Working Men’s Club on the 13th. We are us! Not you.

It was a great trip down, stayed in Little River with Shelly

Da da de dah

And then booked it to Invercargill where we stayed at the Monarch Motel. Which is awesome because it is pet friendly.

Was actually fun all the way down, mostly because my not-son-in-law (official name) insisted onlooking for castles. Thankfully there were a great many churches that fit the bill, how ever there were a surprising number of homes that also fit the bill.

Mum’s 70th

So. My siblings and I agreed not long after mum’s 60th that we would all get together for her 70th. We didn’t all get together for her 60th, but I’m pretty sure we all made contact about then as the ChCh earthquakes were about that time and while she was part of an awesome community there, we felt the need to be part of it. My mum never asks for help, so not sure if she either wanted or needed us, but we turned up. Because we both need and want her. Separately ideally. We love each other obviously, but we are better apart. Actually I cherish both my sister and my brother and one of the things I cherish most is that they absolutely understand that we are better kids to mum one on one.

So. The earthquakes is a seperate and longer story that I’m not doing here, except to say that my world view was absolutely turned upside down and shaken to the nth degree. As were many many others on a much deeper level. Not skimming as such, just touching upon.

Mum’s actual 70th birthday was the 13th of March, 2021. Insane! It’s the future! My brother & sister and I had discussed it in the abstract, but 3 years ago realised it was going to be coming up pretty damned fast. So we were all in agreement, we would absolutely be there and do our best to get our offspring there too. So. Please note that we decided that in 2018.

So. Come the beginning of 2020 my Uncle suddenly realised he had a wider family and was keen to get as many people as close as possible. So he told mum that he’s keen. And as I told mum that I was keen Dave and I became the co-ordinaries. In name. In actuality it fell on Jo, Dave’s wife and Caitlin, my daughter. Because in actual fact Dave and I are both assholes.

So funny it’s actually embarrassing to laugh in front of your dog


Okay, I’m sorry. I’ve been hiding. I live in New Zealand, I have no reason except laziness. And actually maybe a small tinge of fear. I’m in the middle of my last Tonga adventure and just want to talk about books!! Books are safe, omgosh I could inundate you with really interesting things!! But I won’t. Except to say that right now I’m reading Bill Bryson’s travels and bloody hell, don’t read them on a bus or at the pub while waiting for your quiz team to join you.

But mostly I want to distract you right now with TJ Klune. His “How to Be A Normal Person” is actually so funny you will be embarrassed by the fact that even though you are reading it in your house, by yourself, your dog will be extremely concerned by the noises coming from you. And this has happened to multiple acquaintances. It’s NOT just me! Do not read on a public place. But bloody hell, this story of really weird guy meets quite a lot less weird guy and tries to ensure he follows societal cues is just brilliant. And weirdly skips the British thing of embarrassing and goes straight for laugh out loud, heart warmingly perfect. Mr Klune has a multitude of books, all of which I’ve enjoyed, his Brother series is awesome, though tbh I’m not keen to read twice. they’re absolutely a great series, but hard work if you’re trying to be upbeat. Which is a stupid reason not to read them so do it. The Otter & Bear books are fricking fabulous. Not funny though. Well yeah they are, but not laugh out loud funny like “How to Be A Normal Person”. I SO want to read the next book, “How to Be A Movie Star”, but am finding it hard to get hold of.

Long story short, when I set up this site I didn’t really know wth I was doing, but am now glad my travel stuff is tucked away in menus and I can blather out here. GO FIND TJ KLUNE! He’s really funny, really clever and absolutely will make you cry.

Lucy Mangan I love you

And have been talking to you for the last 24 hours. In my head. Mostly.

Bookworm.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28501495-bookworm

You’ve read most of the stuff I’ve read, and some of the stuff we have differing experiences – for example pretty sure I was well indoctrinated into the David Attenborough way of life on earth (and definitely was actually living on a farm) when I read Charlotte’s Web. But doesn’t change the fact I was devastated. Just possibly not as surprised.

Milly Molly Mandy is still a strong presence in my head. Possibly helped by the fact my girl got into her too.

And you’ve read a lot of stuff I haven’t and am going to. Though tbh, not going to go back to Enid. Unlike you I met her through the Wishing chair books and so so so loved those books. But never actually wanted to read the famous five or secret seven. Did read the wishing chair again when my daughter was little(r). She didn’t take to it. I didn’t have the same love as I did for Matilda or the BFG but I still have a warm place in my heart for it.

Gosh. So yes, this is me NOT having a conversation with you.

Actually would be keen to do so. Is that weird? Not necessarily in person. Maybe more have a conversation with Bookworm. Because I agree with so much of it, and disagree with some and I want to discuss that with someone!!! I have no literary merit obviously. Have been reading for 45 or so years but otherwise nothing to tempt you.

But there is nothing on earth I’d rather do than discuss books with someone that knows the books and have an intelligent conversation. Like yes!! Marchpane = Marzipan = insanely sweet and also slightly yucky. Very important realisation!! But for me it hung over the March family – I think I read them about the same time. Should revisit.

You know?

This is my love letter to Lucy Mangan. Who at 802 years old is slightly older than myself but not by much. Maybe by 4 years.

💞

Teddy Bears everywhere

Okay so me and my friend need a bit of stimuli. We’ve challenged each other, and I’m including everyone in this, to make a setting for our Bear Hunt bears. #bearhunt

So. Our challenge is to create a scenario. Today’s bears were pilot bears and are on Instagram.

#teddy_bear_challenge.

Sunday’s are Pirate Bears!!

We’re doing this thing every Sunday and Thursday. Any ideas for themes let me know. Any pics of cool pirate bears find me on Instagram teddy_bear_challenge