Six Weeks in Already

Another truth bomb that resonates …

The truth could be televised and the masses won’t do a thing 

Let’s stop pretending the problem is information. There is absolutely no reason to post about Epstein, government corruption, regulatory capture, stolen money, or any of the other crimes committed in plain sight. Not because it isn’t real. Not because it isn’t horrifying but because people do not care. They are not confused. They are not unaware. They are not waiting for proof. They are finished.

Assume the impossible for a moment. Assume tomorrow the media tells the truth. Every network and every outlet. No spin, no ambiguity, no “both sides.” Names are named. Crimes are laid out. Receipts are shown. Epstein, pharma, government, corporations…everything exposed, undeniable, unavoidable. Final truth, blasted from every screen on earth.

Nothing would happen. There would be no uprising. No reckoning and no collective response. People wouldn’t lift a finger, not because they’re restrained, but because they’re incapable. This is not a population being held down. This is a population that has been chemically, psychologically, and spiritually domesticated. They are docile, sedated and pacified. Made harmless by design.

This society is weak in every way that matters. Physically soft, metabolically broken and mentally fragmented. Dopamine-addicted and attention-deficient. A population that cannot sit in silence, cannot think deeply, cannot tolerate discomfort, cannot organize, cannot sacrifice, and cannot act with courage. They don’t just lack the will to resist they lack the capacity.

Here’s the part that exposes the lie completely. Take away their distractions, and suddenly they find their backbone. If cigarettes were banned tomorrow, there would be outrage. If liquor stores boarded up their doors, there would be chaos. If McDonald’s shut off the golden arches, if the booze dried up, if the dopamine supply chain was interrupted, these same people would riot harder than they ever would over corruption, children, or freedom. Not because those things don’t matter but because comfort matters more.

That’s the society we’ve built. A civilization that will tolerate child trafficking, mass deception, and systemic theft, but will lose its mind over the loss of junk food, alcohol, and entertainment. A population that mistakes convenience for freedom and stimulation for happiness, while real tyranny hums quietly in the background.

There is no “going back.” That fantasy is dead. You cannot reason people out of a prison they are comfortable in. You cannot wake people up who have chosen sedation. They want to wake up, flood their system with caffeine and sugar, eat garbage, sit on their ass, scroll endlessly, avoid eye contact, communicate only through glowing screens, drink themselves numb, binge Netflix, worship sports teams, and fall asleep scrolling the same device that hollowed them out in the first place.

They are not curious. They are not driven. They are not seeking truth, excellence, mastery, or meaning. They are seeking numbness. Short clips, cheap laughs and constant stimulation. Seven-second reels of squirrels on skateboards while the world burns behind them. This is not dystopia coming it’s idiocracy already here, fully normalized.

That’s why I speak the way I do. That’s why I’m harsh. Not because I hate people but because softness is what destroyed them. Comfort made them obedient. Convenience made them weak. Distraction made them irrelevant. Now they defend the very system that hollowed them out because challenging it would require effort, discipline, and discomfort…things they no longer possess.

I’m not trying to wake up the masses. I’m speaking to the anomaly. The outlier and the person who still feels disgust instead of comfort. The one who knows, in their bones, that this isn’t normal and this isn’t acceptable. The one who refuses to rot quietly while scrolling through a curated illusion.

This isn’t for the sedated. It’s for the few who refuse to become livestock. ~Chris Kirckof

I agree with everything that he says and I probably fall halfway between the distracted and the outraged. While I know about almost everything that’s going on in this evil world, I am a 65 yr old female who holds little value to anybody. 

To most, I am old, foolish, a conspiracy theorist, eccentric, out of touch, full of shit, over the hill, feeble etc etc etc. 

The fact that I have 65 yrs of life experience and have witnessed many changes in history, moral and ethical values, the definition of humanity, the way we are conditioned to think and act a certain way, believe in certain things and not believe in others. 

I am embarrassed by how well conditioned I was during my 20s, 30s and 40s. I always knew that there was something ‘not right’ and life frequently led me in a different direction, but the ‘conditioning’ always brought me back to ‘conforming’.

Now I believe that life is pointless. We are all totally controlled by the elitists. We plebs are not meant to live comfortably or peacefully and those powers find every way possible to take or reduce our money and assets by creating taxes, laws, policies and rules that make life as difficult and stressful as possible.

Our only freedom is spirituality (not religion) and even then, we have to keep it to ourselves for fear of repercussions, prejudice and hostility.

The conditioning is so strong, that we are not only fearful of the elitists, the government, the corporations, the industries, but also our fellow human beings who judge us harshly when we don’t tow the line.

So I’ve created my own little oasis in the confines and control of Adoring Husband’s fears and emotional needs and I try to avoid social situations and other humans who are not like minded, because, to be honest, I judge them harshly too.

So my feeble, old, female body has no strength or value to fight the control that’s happening and I happily withdraw to my oasis.

Anyway … back to my personal post.

It has rained for most of today. We desperately need it so I’m not complaining. The temperature is more manageable and we were able to survive without air conditioning for the entire day.

Harley was disappointed to miss out on his afternoon play, due to the weather.

I had to bring my seedlings undercover again because they were drenched AND sprouting like crazy.

We watched a good Netflix movie called “RIP” with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, followed by a fluffy romance. 

MAFS was on tonight and I still have to catch up on I’m a Celebrity and Australian Idol.

I made up a chicken, onion, mushroom, tomato, garlic, sour cream and chicken broth concoction and served it with boiled potatoes, green beans and snow peas.

Now I’m ready for sleep.

Nite all.

Wet Weekend

 Association between COVID-19 vaccination and neuropsychiatric conditions.

Well … it’s been a bit wet here. Over 100mm of rain in less than 24 hours.

Remember how I planted some seeds on Wednesday? Well, here we are on Saturday and the beans, snow peas and cucumbers have already sprouted! I feel good about these crops.

It’s been a quiet couple of days. I haven’t felt very strong or energised, so I’ve chosen my bed for refuge where I binge watched the final series of Stranger Things.

It was pretty intense and I felt quite emotional in places.

I have napped both days and Harley has spent quality time with adoring Husband.

I’ve been quietly keeping up with the Winter Olympics results.

It’s 11pm and I think I shall get an early night (for me).

Nite all.

A Hot Minute

It has been 18 days since I last posted.

The tennis totally took my attention and it was amazing to see Djokovic defeat Sinner to get into the final against Alcaraz. He had an exceptional first set but Alcaraz pulled it together and won the next three sets to win the Australian Open.

My favourite girl Sabalenka was beaten in the final by Rybakina. 

Since then, there has been some cricket, some preseason NRL football matches and now the Winter Olympics.

Adoring Husband is more invested in the Winter Olympics than I am but I enjoyed watching Cooper Woods win our first medal (gold) tonight.

It’s a busy season of reality TV with MAFS, Australian Idol and I’m a Celebrity all on at the same time. The struggle is real!

I’ve been cooking a lot. Preparing meals so that I don’t have to cook every night of the week. Chicken casserole, hainan chicken, spaghetti bol sauce, curried mince for pastry puffs, butter chicken, Hungarian chicken and a couple of sauces for stir fries.

I’ve bought some small raised garden beds and prepared them for planting. I have seeds in egg cartons waiting for germination - I’ve had to bring them under cover tonight because there are huge storms heading this way. I have dill and coriander already growing and I put a celery base in a container of water and it already has green growth coming from its heart, so I’ll plant that next week.

So far, I have sugar snap peas, green beans, cucumber, roma tomatoes, cos lettuce, baby spinach, thyme, radishes, asparagus and a couple of others that I can’t remember right now.

There are about seven pineapples ripening as we speak. We’ve fed on passionfruit, blackberries, blueberries and cherry tomatoes. We have one jap pumpkin almost ready to pick and some lemons just fruiting.

I enjoyed a lovely lunch with my art girls at Truly Asia on the marina last Thursday. The food was great but the acoustics were not good. It was too noisy to hear each other speak. Our next lunch will be Arkarra Tea Gardens which is a bit closer to home.

Tomorrow is my beautiful Chicklet’s 15th birthday! How quickly time flies.

That’s about all I can remember of the last 18 days.

Nite all.

A Day in Australia

Another one that resonated …

To the people who think we’re crazy

I know how it looks from the outside…It probably seems like people like me woke up one day and decided to distrust everything, reject the mainstream and live life on edge, driven by fear or paranoia. But, that isn’t how this started and it isn’t how it feels to live this way.

I’m not afraid of the world. I move through it consciously. I choose organic food and read ingredients, not because I think everything is poisoned and the sky is falling…but because I understand that the body keeps score. Small things add up, repeated inputs matter. Once you understand cumulative load, preventative choices stop looking extreme and start looking obvious. 

That same thinking applies to how I raise my children. They aren’t allowed sleepovers, they don’t have smart watches, wireless headphones, wireless chargers, unlimited screen time. All of this is to protect them, but it’s not ‘too much’, it should be the norm. They don’t have social media, not because I want to control them or keep them naïve, but because I understand brain development, dopamine, attention and comparison. I speak to my children like humans. I explain why we do what we do. I answer questions. They understand safety because they understand the reasons behind it. They’re not going to rebel because they’re not being restricted without explanation…They’re informed.

Nearly everyone now mocked as an ‘anti vaxxer’ didn’t start out that way. They were pro vaccine. They listened. They trusted. They blindly followed advice…And then something happened. Sometimes it was an injury. Sometimes it was watching someone else be dismissed or gaslit. Sometimes it was asking a reasonable question and being met with hostility instead of discussion. Sometimes, it was death of their child. Trust wasn’t lost in one moment. It eroded… and once that happens, you start noticing patterns that you didn’t see before.

We don’t distrust the government because it’s fashionable, popular or edgy. We distrust them because we study behaviour. Language. Timing. Repetition. Governments operate from playbooks, guidelines, psychological frameworks and historical precedent (WEF, event 201 agenda 2030, the Gaza development). They always have. And so do we. That’s why there’s a long standing joke that the gap between a conspiracy theory and the truth is about six months. It isn’t because we’re guessing, it’s because patterns repeat. ‘To be forewarned is to be forearmed.’

When we avoid things like unnecessary security scanners, constant Bluetooth exposure, smart meters, wireless tech or other avoidable inputs, it isn’t because we think we can escape every risk in the modern world. We know we can’t. We know there is already so much we’re exposed to without choice. But when choice does exist, it matters. Reducing what you can in a world full of unavoidable stressors, again, isn’t fear based…It’s discernment and it makes sense!

I don’t think people who trust the system are stupid…I trusted it too. I don’t think people making different choices are reckless or ignorant. Everyone is doing the best they can with the information they have. I’m not trying to convince anyone, convert anyone or feel superior. I’m trying to live with my eyes open, protect health in a world that profits from sickness and raise children who can think critically rather than outsource their thinking entirely.

You don’t have to agree with me. You don’t have to live like I do. You don’t have to like me…But please stop assuming I’m afraid, uneducated or irresponsible. I’m not. I’m paying attention and I’m willing to sit with uncomfortable information rather than look away from it.

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Happy Australia Day 🇦🇺 

We did nothing out of the ordinary. Harley play. Breakfast. Tennis. YouTube. Dinner. More tennis. 

I feel like the days are short.

We are already at the end of January!! What the!?!?

Meditation tomorrow so an early night is required.

Nite all.

Of Interest

I found this online today and it resonated …

The Care Partner: The Role No One Applies For

Parkinson’s disease is often described as an individual diagnosis. One person sits in a neurologist’s office and hears the words: Chronic. Incurable. Progressive. One name is written on the chart. One name on the pillbox label. One body becomes the focus of clinical attention.

But Parkinson’s never belongs to just one person. 

From the moment of diagnosis, a second role is created—usually without discussion, consent, or preparation. The role of care partner. Not a nurse. Not saviour. Not a sidekick. Something far more complex and far more human.

I say this not as an observer, but as someone who has lived with Parkinson’s for over a decade. My disease has progressed, adapted, surprised me, and forced me to renegotiate my relationship with my own body. But alongside that journey has been another, quieter one—the evolution of the person who walks beside me.

Care partners rarely recognize themselves in the role at first. They are spouses, children, colleagues, and friends. They start by “helping out,” filling in small gaps that appear almost imperceptibly: driving a little more, reminding a little more, and compensating quietly.

Over time, those gaps widen.

What makes the role so difficult is that it is undefined. There is no training manual for how to help without diminishing. No checklist for when support becomes supervision. There is no clear line between loving assistance and unintended control.

From the inside, I can tell you this: the greatest challenge is not the physical care. It is the emotional calibration. Knowing when to step in—and when to step back.

Care partners carry an enormous cognitive and emotional load that is rarely acknowledged. They track symptoms. They anticipate fluctuations. They remember medication schedules, appointments, and subtle changes in mood or movement.

They also absorb the fear.

Fear of progression. Fear of the future. Fear of saying the wrong thing. Fear of being honest. Fear of being honest too soon. Fear of doing too much. Fear of not doing enough.

What often goes unseen is how much restraint this requires. How often care partners choose silence over correction. Patience over frustration. Strength over vulnerability.

And yet, they are rarely asked how they are doing.

From my perspective, the most meaningful care is not about doing things for someone—it is about preserving dignity with them.

Parkinson’s already takes enough. It interferes with autonomy, confidence, and identity. When care is delivered without sensitivity, even with the best intentions, it can unintentionally accelerate those losses.

The most effective care partners understand this intuitively. They offer support without spectacle. They collaborate rather than command. They allow room for independence—even when it would be easier to take over.

This requires emotional intelligence, not instruction.

Parkinson’s does not just change the person with the diagnosis. It reshapes relationships.

Care partners grieve, too. They grieve the ease that once existed. The predictability. The unspoken assumptions about the future. They often do this privately, believing they must remain strong, positive, or encouraging.

But resilience is not silence.

Care partners need space to acknowledge their own fatigue, frustration, and fear—without guilt. Without feeling that doing so somehow detracts from the person with Parkinson’s.

It does not.

The best care partnerships I have seen—and experienced—are grounded in mutual respect. They are not hierarchical. They are adaptive. They evolve as the disease evolves. They are built on conversation, not assumption. On listening, not rescuing. On shared problem-solving, not unilateral decisions.

Parkinson’s may alter roles, but it does not erase personhood. 

The individual with Parkinson’s is still a partner, still a professional, still a decision-maker, still themselves.

The care partner’s role is not to replace that identity—but to protect it.

If you are a care partner, know this: your role matters more than you may ever hear. Not because of what you do, but because of how you are present.

And if you are living with Parkinson’s, as I am, take the time to recognize the person beside you—not just for their support, but for the quiet strength it takes to walk a road they did not choose but chose to stay on it with you.

Parkinson’s is a shared journey. The diagnosis may belong to one of us—but the resilience belongs to both.

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Today I swam and rebounded in the morning, did the last of my washing - so nice to have access to my washing machine - Adoring Husband and BGWLBH seem to hog it more often than not, after which I made a rather large batch of curried egg with lettuce which I scooped onto some GF toast and feasted. 

I also made a smoothie of fresh pineapple, passionfruit, banana, Brazil nut, apricot kernels, Celtic sea salt and coconut water.

Then I plonked myself in front of the tennis and watched Alcaraz defeat Paul, Sabalenka defeat Mboko, Sverev defeat Cerundolo and Tien defeat Medvedev.

I did a baked chicken with baked potato, sweet potato, pumpkin, carrot and onion, with zucchini, asparagus and broccoli plus home made gravy for dinner. Quite delicious.

This evening I had to choose between the T20 cricket final and the Alex De Minaur match. If I chose the tennis, AH would leave the room, so I chose the cricket and missed Alex’s seemingly easy win. His next clash is with number one in the world - Alcaraz! We’ll find out what Alex is really made of in that match!

Perth Scorchers have annihilated Sydney Sixers in the cricket final.

Tomorrow is Australia Day and we have planned a quiet one at home. More tennis. More swimming. More Harley play. More rebounding. More eating.

More remembering the horror of Australia Day 2013 and the tornado damage that we endured. The memories and photos will pop up on Facebook as they do every year at this time.

We caught the edge of a storm tonight. Lots of noise and enough rain to wet the road.

Adoring husband made friends with a snake today. He was on the step ladder in the front yard when he looked down to see a whip snake trying to climb the ladder! Mildly venomous. When I say ‘made friends with’ I mean ‘jumped and ran for his life’. He survived to tell the tale.

I need to nap now.

Nite all.