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Easter, when you’ve been writing too much supernatural urban fantasy…

Easter, when you’ve been writing too much supernatural urban fantasy…

I was awoken this morning to excited chattering coming from my dining room. There, upon an almost clean table of pine sat some sort of summoning circle. Its four quadrants made up of spring time and fertility symbols such as duckling, chickens and rabbits. Within its centre was a jar of… bilbies? Possibly made of milk chocolate?

I believed it to be a summoning circle for around it now danced three demonic hordes of varying size and age. All of which deemed to address me as ‘Mum’.

To close the circle I commanded these hordes to eat the bilbies… I had to know whether they were of a benevolent or malevolent making.

It appears they were benevolent and I have it on good authority they came from a place known as ‘Red Cacao’ who only create premium creatures of chocolate.

Once this issue had been sorted and the bilby like objects demolished, I continued with my daily chores of creating ‘life spirals’ from a dairy and wheat free brioche like substance based on ritual conceived by the amazing Quirky Jo.

It is autumn after all and a time to create symbols of life and perseverance as we head into the bleakness of winter. Now is not the time for spring icons of buns with crosses… but spirals within buns of cinnamon, mixed spice and sultanas is another matter.

While these spirals rested upon a warmed hearth to double in size I received a cry for help from neighbouring family members. It seems some bright, foil covered Pagan icons of spring and fertility had appeared within their backyard and they were wondering if I had it within my powers to come remove them.

Upon arrival, I sensed this was a task too great for me so early in the morning and so despatched my hordes to vanquish these icons of spring. These canny hordes donned rabbit ears and other disguises to try and blend into the environment before seeking out the offending items and gathering them in small, pre-prepared baskets of holding. Again, they appeared to be made of chocolate. Upon my command, these items were checked by the Hordes to ensure they were of a safe nature. According to the one known as Eldest Horde, it appears this too was benevolent chocolate as it was ‘UTZ certified’ and therefore free of slavery as well as being fairly made. Good to know these Hordes can differentiate the good from the bad from such odd markings adorning strange foil wrapped icons.

Unusual for demonic hordes, they then proceeded to share their gathered bounty equally as well as check with the woman of the property to see if she felt further Pagan icons of spring still adorned her autumnal backyard. It appears all suspicious packages had indeed been collected and so I left them to it while I returned to my own home to finish baking the ‘life spirals’.

Once it was completed, while still warm from my hearth, we returned to this other family member’s home and partook in the breaking and eating of this hot, sweet, sticky and nut filled repast.

Then, as I continued with the rituals of gathering final minute items from a local shop and setting the dining table with an altar like precision, the men of the family dealt with the animal to fire sacrifices that often take place upon this day.

Once we were all seated, we enjoyed perfectly charred meat on sticks, the salad of potato, boiled eggs and gherkins and other delicacies that seem to be of cultural significance to such family gatherings.

The day ended well with the cutting of the bird’s nest style cake to symbolise spring, along with the breaking of more of the ‘life spiral’ pull apart symbolising autumn. We then all partook in various concoctions of dried leaves and hot water, or a strange dark bean and hot water.

Finally the day came to a close with the usual re-enforcement of family lore, tales, traditions and gossip before we parted ways.

The hordes were gathered, the remains of their mission to eradicate the world of Pagan icons collected and we were homeward bound.

After all, hubby has a sink to unblock and I had a load of cottons to put in the washing machine. As we were doing this we realised the magic of the day had departed for another year, we had chocolate coated children to bathe and felt left over brioche and a cuppa a great dinner tonight.

And, in ending this little tale, I hope this Easter long weekend was everything your beliefs allowed it to be too. For me, it was simply the first Sunday since Mabon – the autumn equinox last Sunday. To others… it was slightly more important. Each to their own, so may it be.

Until next time,

Janis.

life spiral pull apart brioche

‘Life Spirals’ aka dairy and wheat free spiced pulled apart brioche.

 
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Posted by on March 27, 2016 in Update on my Writer Life, Writing

 

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Book Hangovers and how best to find a cure.

Hi everyone,

The following blog post was originally submitted as “a sample of my work” when applying to be a blogger somewhere. As it’s been a few months and they’ve not gotten back to me I’ve long come to terms with the fact that’s a big and silent “Thanks but no thanks”. This means I have decided to share it with you all here. Why waste a good blog post, right?

So here it is:

The other day a friend posted one of those ‘funny quotes’ in their Facebook timeline that was about Book Hangovers. It read:

Book Hangover: Inability to start a new book because you’re still living in the last book’s world.

Now I think the reason I find this so amusing is because I can totally relate to it! That resonating feeling – when putting a book down for the last time – of the adventure continuing on, despite the pages having stopped. The joy of a happy ending, the anxiety of a cliff hanger awaiting its sequel, the sorrow of the final death of a beloved character. It still tingles through you, draws your mind back to it over and over and makes you recoil at the thought of picking up a different book and having to find a new world to enter. How can you be expected to do that? Don’t they know what you’re going through right now? They did it! They won, lost, lived, died, but they are your friends and they are just there beyond dull old reality. How could you possibly think of turning your back on them now and find new friends?

But is there a cure to this painful sensation? I mean, you’ve just bought a great pile (virtual or otherwise) of new books and you were simply dying to read them. You can’t abandon them now just because of a hangover. What is the hair of the dog cure? Does anyone know?

Well, you could go for a walk and try and clear your head. But doesn’t that tree remind you of the one they first met at? And that newfie being walked in the park nearby, did he wink at you… or does he just remind you of that demon in a dog suit who had you laughing so hard? Damn it, this walking is just reminding you of them. You need to try something else.

Real work, be it housework or one of those paid jobs where you sit in front of a computer all day long looking busy. No, that’s no good… as when the boss isn’t looking you’re just going to google who you think would be the best actor to play your character’s favourite role if and when it becomes a film.

You know what I’ve found is the best cure for the Book Hangover? Blog about it, write a review, get all your thoughts about how great it all was down on paper, erm the screen, and it will help you find closure. As, yes, closure is the only cure to this horrible affliction. Even if the book had a happy ending, you’re suffering from loss now it has ended. You need to accept that loss, focus on it, weave it into the best review you can give… and then move on. Set it free, clear your mind and reach for the next book.

Think of it as your homage, your dedication to a lost love, now the story has finished. Think of it as some aspirin and a greasy egg and bacon roll for the soul. Let it cure that hangover… and let’s not stay up til three in the morning with the ‘One more chapter, I can do it’ mantra that you know is just going to leave you with another Book Hangover the next day.

Until next time,

Janis. XXOO

 
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Posted by on January 8, 2015 in Writing

 

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Remembering my childhood and how Cyclone Tracy shaped it.

I will state here and now I was not in cyclone Tracy. I wasn’t even born when it hit. I was born in Darwin two years later and have strong memories of growing up in a town, in an environment, that was slowly recovering from that horrific event.

This blog post is more about how cyclone Tracy shaped my early life and therefore shaped who I am. Even two years after it happened it was changing people, shaping our lives. Actually, it was doing that for many years after it happened. For the first five or so years of my life, people lived in real fear of each and every cyclone that hit. For those who had been in Darwin for Tracy, the memories were still raw and the fear still so real and fresh. For those who had moved into the wreckage, the desolation, the landscape stripped bare by the giant storm, they too were afraid of each new cyclone in case it showed them what it had been like to be in that nightmare.

For those of you reading this and having no idea what I’m talking about, cyclone Tracy was a category four cyclone that hit Darwin in the Northern Territory of Australian on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in 1974. It was a huge storm, like a hurricane but spinning in the opposite direction, and it destroyed the town. Wiped basically everything out, houses, trees, planes, boats and people. Sixty six people in all died. Fifty three on the land and thirteen at sea. Horribly, most of the fatalities were children… in some cases smothered to death by parents protecting them from the fierce winds and flying debris.

For more factual information on this massive storm, please visit the National Archives of Australia’s official page on the event. As my post isn’t about retelling the horror of an event I wasn’t even there for. It’s about how the recovering Darwin shaped me. Actually, writing this I’ve found some very fascinating blogs and sites that recount Darwin, the cyclone and the rebuild. I highly recommend anyone interested in learning more to google the topic and start reading. There’s some great stuff out there!

So, I was born in Darwin two years after the cyclone that destroyed over seventy percent of the buildings. A lot had changed by then, new buildings had been built, some of the older buildings had been restored and most of the storm debris was removed. I mean, there was still the twisted “three girders” from a house that later became a monument. There were still the trees with parts of people’s roofs embedded in them. Actually, those trees and their shrapnel were still around well into my adult life. They might even still be there, I don’t know, I moved away from Darwin nearly twenty years ago as it had changed from the one I had loved growing up.

And I don’t mean that in a completely negative way… not really. It was inevitable that Darwin would change because the one I grew up in was more a stop gap measure to most, than an actual city. With the threat of another cyclone still red raw in their memories, the houses were built like concrete bunkers ensuring they would survive another onslaught. The landscape was new and barren. Stripped bare by the winds and destruction, I remember Darwin growing up as being a near treeless place. Lots of bare earth and the ability to watch my father drive home from the university (then Community College) from about the half way point as there was no real foliage in between. Being in the tropics that barren earth soon turned green and was swallowed up by fast growing trees like African mahogany and black wattles. But I still remember it.

Cyclone Tracy shaped where I went to school. As the school chosen for my older siblings and therefore me was one of the first schools restored and accepting students when it was time for my sister to go. It shaped how I played at school as I still have memories of the playground the army had built for the children. It was a lot of wooden structures and netting (think army obstacle course) and I still remember burning my bottom on the searing hot slippery dip (slide) as I studied its construction… being made out of forty four gallon drums beaten flat and then welded together. I can’t see my children being allowed to play on such equipment these days, but this was the late 70’s and early 80’s and kids were different back then. 😉

In a lot of ways Cyclone Tracy even shaped my after school care and activities. As some of this time I spent in good old Building eighteen and the then Darwin Community College. My father worked there and was part of the department that tested blends of concrete and other building materials to ensure they were strong enough to meet the new building codes. The building codes introduced after Tracy. Building eighteen was the science building and so my early childhood was one of science and learning the different things like biology, botany, engineering, geology, entomology and all the other “the study of” sciences there. These were people brought to the north to study Darwin after the cyclone. To see how the plants, animals and insects were doing after such a massive shock to the natural world too.

An example of this people may not believe is when green ants came back to Darwin. Yes, green ants! This happened in my life time! This shaped my upbringing too. See, we used to have a Poinciana tree in our front yard and every year it would be decimated by a type of caterpillar we called a looper. I really don’t remember it’s actual name, they were just loopers as they looped along… a bit like the images I’ve seen of an inchworm. So, these loopers would appear in plague proportions every year and wipe out all the Poinciana trees in the neighbourhood. They would get everywhere and were a real pest. Then one year we noticed this strange orange ant with a green bum. We’d never seen one before and they were new to Darwin in the eyes of we new residents in this ever recovering city. They were the green ants. A native ant that had been in that part of Australia for longer than any of us. But I had never seen one because cyclone Tracy had decimated their population so much they had disappeared. This ‘new’ ant had travelled a long way to this lush new world to replace its dead relatives. They had marched north to discover no other tree dwelling ant in their road and they took over. They weren’t a pest, despite our hatred of their giant leafy nests in our road, they were back where they belonged. It had taken them almost ten years, but the green ants returned to Darwin. We didn’t have much of a problem with the loopers after that and our Poinciana even flowered and had a seed pod it recovered so well! Another momentous moment, seeing a Poinciana flower… as it wasn’t something I’d seen before thanks to the hungry loopers.

Having entomologists setting insect traps in your yard and getting excited over discovering a new bug or moth is another memory. Their fascination on life returning rubbed off on me. I think that’s why the little things in life still fascinate me so much. The miracles of nature most people walk blindly past that bring a smile to my face for witnessing.

For people bored of this blog and not getting the point, let me try and explain it better. I grew up in this new, growing and recovering environment. It was the only life I ever knew. As far as I was concerned this was how life was. Buildings the same age, or younger, than yourself. Panic at the first sign of a cyclone. That siren warning to let you know it’s time to go home and buckle down as another cyclone was about to hit. To me, this was normal. Didn’t everyone grow up in science labs, play on old army equipment and watch trees and buildings grow with them? Discover new animals in their yards and watch life explode into existence from a desolate and dirty barren waste land?

The first time I saw a building that was fifty years old – while visiting family interstate – I was in awe. Real, everyday people got to live in such old buildings? Weren’t old building just special places the rich lived in? Or the Government? Yes, fifty years old was old to me! Buildings in my life were the same age as me. You should have seen my reaction the first time I came face to face with stone statues that were over seven hundred years old! Awe was an understatement. Old things were alien to me, as old meant the same age you were… didn’t it?

And so cyclone Tracy shaped my fascination in old manmade creations. From art and architecture through to books and literature… life existed before cyclone Tracy and not everyone lived in a place as old as them with belongings of the same age. Some were lucky enough to live in places decades older than themselves. Centuries even! How lucky were they? And yet they didn’t even seem to realise this.Yes, I was a child and so my views on the world were limited to what I understood, but I hope you can understand it all the same.

Growing up in Darwin itself also shaped me. What I deemed ‘normal’ others see as rather over the top and in some cases insane. A place that had no rain and bushfires for eight months of the year and then four months of cyclones, mild flooding and near constant rain… that’s normal. What do you mean we’re meant to have four seasons? Two is all we needed. Cold, what was cold? Wasn’t that a stuffed up nose that got you off school for a few days? Of course all the food is in the fridge or freezer or tinned and dehydrated. It would go off otherwise! Nah mate, that was just a python, not anything to be afraid of. Yes it was a snake… but there’s a difference between a venomous one and just a python. Yes, termites fly and the air is filled with them at the first rains of the season. Try and not inhale them. That thing on the wall? It’s just a gecko… no, don’t pick it up by its tail! There’s mould on your leather shoes? I hate to break it to you, but it’s March and there’s mould on everything right now, including you! Hell yes the soil can even kill you, there’s a bacteria in it that comes up with the water table in the wet and I really don’t think you should go walking in it in bare feet with that cut you’ve got there.

No, I’m not making any of that up… I really have said it to strangers to the north over my life time. 🙂

And so, realising cyclone Tracy was forty years ago this Christmas… I started to wonder exactly how many people still in Darwin remember it the same way I do. I know of a few, as I still have friends and family there. But when Darwin lost its fear of cyclones and people from the south moved up there, turned their noses up at what the tropics were like and pulled it all down and put up their view of what the tropics should be like… I had to leave. I’d lost my Darwin and an even newer one had been put in its place.

So as much as I love my Darwin… it doesn’t exist anymore. I still call it my hometown, even if the one I remember is no longer there. You can never go home, but it continues you shape you throughout your life and you need to acknowledge your past, embrace the present and enjoy the prospect of the future. My Darwin has changed and gone, but the one that is there now is just as important and I hope they’re never put through another cyclone like Tracy.

Not exactly the sort of Christmas post people usually send out… but cyclone Tracy shaped Christmas for me too… doesn’t everyone have tape on their windows at that time of year? You mean it’s not part of the decorations? 😉

Be safe, remind your friends and family how awesome they are and how loved they are and realise we don’t all see the world the same way as we didn’t all have the same childhood as you. Or even look on the same environment we were growing up in in the same way you did.

Until next time,

Janis XXOO.

Three Twistered House Girders

 
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Posted by on December 22, 2014 in More pep talk than writing, Writing

 

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De-stress at Christmas rather than distress at Christmas.

Hello everyone, this blog post is one of those annoying “it’s Christmas so we must have a seasonal style post”. Well, sort of. And I really do hope it’s not that annoying too.

Actually, this post came into creation as one of those brain dumps I tend to have on Facebook in my “private” profile. I say private with “” simply because if it’s on the internet or in one of those clouds somewhere it’s about as private as walking down the street. It might not seem like anyone can see you – as you can’t see them – but that doesn’t mean what you’re doing isn’t being monitored. No, not meaning to sound like some paranoid conspiracy theorist, just trying to explain that the internet isn’t as private as some people seem to think it is.

So anyhow, back on this not so private profile of mine on Facebook where I had a bit of a brain dump about how overwhelmed I was feeling about this whole festive season. What with the ever present money pressure most of us feel, kid’s expectations of what’s to happen, messy house, various personal family matters and that whole hypothetical issue with my work and copyright infringements… well, my black dogs didn’t need to be called to my side, they’ve been here lurking a few weeks now.

The brain dump took all of this and tried to explain how I was getting through it all. And the more I wrote the more I felt it would make a good blog post. I’ve extended it and changed it a little from the original “vent” but I do hope it helps some of you out.

And here it is…

This is the first Christmas season where I’ve felt totally overwhelmed, stressed and anti the whole idea of it. I can’t put my finger on exactly what is causing it as I know for a fact there are several things… including my inner black dogs wanting a gift too (me to have a serious melt down). I used to love Christmas, clean house all done up in tinsel and sparkly things, decorations everywhere and the excuse to whip up some of the yummiest meals to then live off for a week or so. Loved it… and now I’m over it and want to skip it this year despite how terrible that would be to my children.

And so, if you’re feeling like me and feeling down and out and wanting to call the whole thing off, this is what I’ve been telling myself to keep going:

The world isn’t suddenly going to come to an end if Christmas is a low key event this year. There doesn’t need to be dozens of gifts under the tree to show your kids you love them. There doesn’t have to be a Solstice feast with dozens of friends simply because it’s what you do every other year. If they’re really your friends, they will understand if you’re not feeling that sociable or festive. True friends will still be your friends. Those that aren’t, weren’t in there for the long haul, their loss.

Please remember: You have a home, food, a family, mostly good health and live in a country free of war and major conflict (if we ignore our politicians). Just let that negativity slide away.

We build up too many expectations of the perfect and magical Christmas… there’s no such thing. They’ve always been a mess and chaos and full of ups and downs, the human brain is just very good at only remembering the good stuff and forgetting the bad.

Go with the flow, smile at the bitchy family comments and snipes and ignore them. That is what family is like, you can’t choose your family but you can choose how to respond to them. Be the better person and don’t bite back.

Remember those who can’t be with you and wish them the best. And think on those who won’t ever be with you for Christmas again and remember the good times rather than feel sad at their passing. I’ve lost part of my extended family this year and Christmas is going to be tough because of it so it’s time to focus on the positive, remember the good and let the bad dissolve away.

Remind your children how important they are, how much they are loved and how these are the greatest gifts you could have. Spend time with them as your gift, rather than pile them high with plastic fantastic gifts that won’t last the New Year. They will remember a day in the park where mummy and daddy played with us more than a broken toy. This year we’ve chosen a new board game together, and plan on spending Boxing Day with just the five of us playing games, watching DVDs and snacking on those ‘sometimes’ foods we avoid for the rest of the year.

Thank your friends and family for being there for you this year… those that have been. I know this won’t work for everyone, but I am basing this on my own internal pep talk so work with me here. Again, think of the positives you’ve had with them this year, the other stuff isn’t worth a space in your head. Mentally rip it up and flush it down the loo. This is the advice I give to my kids and I think it works well for grown-ups too.

Basically – a lot of stressful and high anxiety situations we feel we’re in right now are that way because we let them be. Let’s leave that fight or flight instinct for when we really need it and just focus on being grounded, being ourselves, seeing what we have rather than angst over how we feel it should be… Just enjoy being so very lucky to live in a place of peace, abundant food, clean water and a safe place to sleep.

Did that help at all?

As, you know, for most of us life really isn’t that bad. I know there are some who have a true reason to feel stressed, miserable and alone at this time and so maybe share a thought for them? Possibly even help where you can? Be a shoulder, lend an ear, donate money for a food box to a complete stranger so they can enjoy Christmas lunch too. If you feel money is too tight or you’re too busy for this, don’t complain you have it tough! Because if you have time to moan you have time to donate. Or is that just me? Every true charity shaking their donation cans I’ve been past in the last few days, I dropped some coins in. Gold ones too. The children I sponsor not only got their usual Christmas cards, but I donated a little more to ensure they got something special along with it. Heck, to them getting a mosquito net for their bed was an amazing gift and I wasn’t even trying! Help a friend out who might be struggling to meet commitments. Even if that’s just having them over for an afternoon and subtly send them home with “left overs” so they have some nice treats for later. I love to cook and bake but 80% of what I make I give away. Not because it’s bad and I don’t want it, but because it’s good and I want to share it.

Remember how awesome you are, know you are worth it and even if you find yourself alone this Christmas, just know someone is thinking of you right now. Even if it’s just a total stranger like me sending out thoughts of love and hope to those not with friends and family this Christmas.

Please remember I am one of the biggest, most cynical bitches I know. Why think the positive when the negative is easier and more likely to come true, right? Well no, wrong! And this is one of the biggest things I’ve had to learn this year. In all situations, no matter how bad they are, try and find the positive. As I’ve realised I am a very lucky person to have what I have, despite all I don’t have. I am indeed blessed and I am a lot more awesome than I might think I am on most days. Oh, the “happy pills” prescribed by my Doctor might have helped with this too, but hey. At least I can see it’s true now, rather than just some twaddle being told to me.

No matter what your belief, religion, location, popularity, salary, skin colour, sports preference or shoe size – I am wishing you a safe and happy holidays and hoping the very best for you in the new calendar year. You’re awesome, you’re worth it and don’t let anyone try and tell you otherwise… even if that anyone is inside your head. They’re wrong.

Be happy, be safe, be proud of who you are.

Until next time,

Janis.

Some of the bunter teller I've made this year.

Some of the bunter teller I’ve made this year.

 
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Posted by on December 20, 2014 in More pep talk than writing

 

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When helping others, the help goes both ways.

No, this isn’t a blog about that whole ‘an eye for an eye’ thing that seems to be a lot of people’s mentality these days. Far from it. In fact, when it comes to friendship I really dislike it being a competition or an eye for an eye… you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours sort of thing. Yes, friendship is still about give and take, not all give or all take, and definitely not something you need to keep score on.

What I will try and explain today is more that by helping others, you can really be helping yourself too. Still not making much sense? Oh surprise me! Me making sense? Pffffft!

Basically, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks. Not the worst in the world, but for me personally they were pretty bad. It started with a sinus infection that developed into suspected shingles that downgraded to a rash which was most likely my immune system reacting to all the stress I was putting myself under and a warning to stop it or really get sick. So, yeah, not the worst news in the world compared to what could have happened… but still shitty. It basically meant I had to make some very tough calls on what to remove from my life to get the stress down. Trying to do two full time jobs wasn’t helping, and as I couldn’t quit from being a mum and Haus Frau… yeah, it was a bad week. 😦

BUT! In my moment of misery there came a shining light that helped me feel less like a useless piece of, erm, refuse and more like someone worthwhile. Now, that moment was a major issue to friends of mine, but I really feel it was a big moment for me too. Not because I helped, but because it allowed me to get out of the dark hole I had allowed myself to fall in to.

Basically, their car was in for a service and then ended up being out of commission for, at the time, just that night. The hubby had to get himself from the city to one of the Adelaide Hills towns and, somehow also pick up the three children from three different locations. Janis to the rescue! I had my kids at home and no way of transporting us all so had my saintly parents agree to look after them while I was on this mercy mission. And so, from Mount Barker to Crafers to Aldgate to Bridgewater to Oakbank to Lobethal and back to Mount Barker I went. The whole time my friends were thanking me, where in all honesty I really do feel like I should be thanking them. They were in dire need of help and they chose me to be that help. Me, who was feeling so worthless and shitty and horrible for not being able to keep up with the demands of the world and having to be a coward and hold up my white flag. Me, who honestly didn’t deserve friends or kindness or to be thought of as helpful (in my mind anyhow). Self-hate and depression is a bitch, isn’t it?

And so Thank You to my wonderful friends in need. I feel you did me a bigger favour by asking me for help than I did by you needing me for said help.

I am not an outwardly emotional person… no, I throw most of it into my writing. I know you won’t have read Isis, Vampires and Ghosts – Oh My! yet, but there is a moment in that where I really drew on my own hopelessness and depression and that falling into a dark hole sort of thing as a way to vent it all. I suck at showing my emotions (unless you amuse me and I will smirk and laugh) but who needs the negative stuff shared, right? Then again, you shouldn’t dwell and stew in it alone too.

And that is what I got out of this recent call for help. I needed to be doing the calling for help as I was in a very, very bad place myself. So the call for help was my lifeline. People needed me, people were hoping I could help, and I could! I was useful, I helped and they all got home safe and sound. And as I drove home I may as well have gotten my damned ticket tape parade for how bloody good I felt. Life has really picked up again since then. I can get out of my own road, and have even gotten back into being a useful Haus Frau rather than a misery guts on the couch.

So, always think of your friends when you’re in need. To me, a friend may not be in touch every day to re-affirm the friendship, they’re just there whenever. There is no tally of good deeds done or parties gone to or meals given. They are just a friend. And do think of others when you need help as it can be the simplest things that can help them in return. When trying to fit ‘are you okay’ into your daily life, think on it. You need help, but what does that help to for those you ask? I’m back to not making sense aren’t I? 😉

Okay, so I was feeling crappy about my self-worth, friends needed me and being needed made me a happier person. Putting it into one sentence like that a blog it does not make! But maybe it makes more sense.

Just remember to be yourself, be excellent to each other and never be afraid to ask for help. I sort of failed on the last bit, but someone asking me for help equalled the same.

Until next time,

Janis XXOO

 
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Posted by on November 9, 2013 in Writing

 

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