i have marie kondo'd my mother's wardrobe with her and it's wonderful and harrowing experience to see how tightly sentiment can grip a person, and just how alike we are. i'm especially glad i managed to clean and tidy my own room before venturing on bullying her (lovingly) through it as well. slightly less of a hypocrite for once!

my parents' house is large and they have very little room left. it is beautiful and decorated and decorated and then the decoration becomes hard to distinguish from clutter, from things left out just for a moment, and then we must at last face the fact that

even my father is not immune from this- but he is nothing compared to my mother. parents, if you somehow find this one day, do not get on my ass about this. i say this with love, and with recognition that this sucks to try and tackle on your own.

it feels good to help my mum. we get to talk about the jewelry she has so carefully kept together in a crowded drawer, she can remind me of things i bought her as a child, show me gifts she recieved for her 16th, 18th, 21st birthdays. silk handkerchiefs gifted to me when i was a baby were passed to me at last, and grandma and grandpa's cardigans are set aside to be mended and returned to active wear and use when the cold comes for us once again. i stole a m*nnie m*use headband despite my dislike of d*sney, because i like its sequins, and mum returned a thai silk scarf i loaned to her over a decade ago.

it's not as pretty and enchanting as all that sounds. we both pushed our energy limits, emotionally and physically. it's easy to make a retrospective account sound charming. but the charm and moments should be preserved, for when the tantrums and breakdowns threaten to break our stride. i'm going back next week, same day, and we shall take on the next part of the warddrobe. socks and scarves, we will conquer you!

triple j is fun. i'm trying to listen to the news more. listening is a bit easier than reading, my eyes are doing the slippy thing when i try to read blocks of text, but i'm determined to make keeping up with the news a habit. i've spent long enough avoiding the world. i've been indulging my own nostalgia and sentiment, and making a shrine to it- bitter net cafe. i kept remembering my early years on the internet, through internet cafes scattered across south east asia, and how badly i would give myself nightmares by searching for ghost stories. how easy the slip into realisation came- that i could make my own entry into that glorious realm! so that's a new project to work on instead of getting around to writing up some recipes, and continuing to fill out the writing projects listings LIKE I SHOULD SOBS