anysia: (Troll button)
And not overly surprised at that. My son was taken to the hospital early yesterday morning, before 6am, in extreme abdominal pain. No, not gall stones, not appendicitis, so any keyboard diagnosticians take a break. Spent almost the entire day with Alan in the ER and then hospital ward.

After being awake for over 20 hours, I come home and find some really rancorous comments from RWNJs that think they're being witty because they look at the header of my weblog, and stupidly assume it's referring to my mental health. No, it's a bit of prose from a book about arguing with oneself and choices, and how close we come to making wrong decisions. Literacy is great, and when you see it fail, it can be either amusing or sad.

This time, it just pissed me off. I don't mind disagreements, but when you take it to personal attacks, all your comments have lost any merit you thought they might have had.

Now pardon me, while I go back to waiting.

Oh, and in case you think I'm bullshitting/lying :

My son Alan, at Fiona Stanley Hospital, letting concerned friends know he's 'okay', taken yesterday afternoon.




Now fuck off.
anysia: (Scrying)
That I have spoken to my eldest son, Paul, in quite some time. It wasn't for the best of reasons, but I don't care. He is going through a rough patch, (not of his making) and family is family. I've missed him, and I told him as much.

But then I did something even more important; I listened. I let him pour it all out to me, no judgment and only offered advise and my opinion when I was asked for it. He knew that if I thought for an instant that he was in the wrong, I would have landed on him (verbally) with both feet.

That wasn't the case.

And I'm still here to listen.
anysia: (Green Sorceress)
"Mom, no matter the election results you'll be glad. If President is re-elected, you'll be glad. If Romney is elected, you'll be glad you're living in Australia." Alan Joseph Pavlak (my son) 2012
anysia: (Goddess)
I finally get to slow down and not having anything scheduled to do. But that doesn't mean I do nothing. Domestic chores wait for no one, and don't do themselves. Saw sunshine, and felt a warm wind, so stripped the bed to wash sheets and blankets and get them out on the line. No sooner was the washing machine finished, it was cloudy and drizzly. And of course as soon as everything is almost dry in the dryer, the sun comes back out. Such is life!

Making minestrone for dinner. With the smell of herbs, onions, and other ingredients, house smells like an good Italian restaurant. :D Luckily, I have Alan as my taste tester. After a few times of sipping broth, I need a 'fresh palette'
anysia: (South Park - Native/Hippy)
Yes, beloved fruit of my womb, the washer takes 5 kilos of DRY clothes. The dryer does say it takes 5 kilos, but that is 5 kilos of WET clothing. And you are surprised when you tried to shove 5 pairs of jeans, two large bath sheets, 5 shirts and assorted 'personal' garments and the dryer wouldn't or labored to start?

So, dearest spawn o' mine, next time you decided to wash every stitch of clothing you own, just remember, 5 kilos dry for washer does not equal 5 kilos for the dryer. And don't argue with me when I tell you this. Mommy is good, Mommy is wise.

This has been a public service announcement.
anysia: (Tribal Eyes)
It's a landmark day/night!! My baby, my youngest son.... (on NOES!) He had his first (and probably last) shaving lesson. My BABY needs to shave. (ok,my baby *is* almost 18 yrs old) BUT HE IS MY BABY!!!!!

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anysia: Portrait in 13 Candles (Default)
anysia

January 2026

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