Four months of chaos, disorder, sensory assault and social dissonance. The autistic constitution can only be this much resilient. I wonder often how much an average neurotypical is able to endure the same dimensions, levels and consistent torture – and do so with the panache and persistence that many of us autistics execute on a daily basis?

Time to retreat and reboot. If only for a mere four and a half days.

Saturday bruncheon with Rick at our favourite Not Just CoffeeĀ – nourishing noshment and conversation, providing vim and vigour for the adventure ahead. It was so good to be back in our old neighbourhood of Paddington too.

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happy home

(It’s a non-verbal day for me today. Lucy will be my ‘voice’ for this post, she has a better talent for being positive.)

I love early morning walkies!

I love early morning walkies!

Good morning, everybody! This morning, I met a very kind and gentle old man. He was cleaning the rubbish bins downstairs. His name is Rafael, and I like him very much. Mumma said my bum was doing a boogie as my tail wagged vigorously, and I made Greyhound chattering sounds. All I knew was this man is a good human and I wanted to jump up and kiss and hug him! I don’t do this often, but some humans are special, aren’t they? Mumma must learn from me, she says, because I pick the good ones better than she can! šŸ™‚

I love our new home very much. There’s lots to sniff at, so many places to go walkies in, plenty of green grass and clean pavements, and rats and possums and even kitties too! Mumma is happy that I am happy. Mum even tells me I do good poops these days! She gives me a treat every time I do a poop. I wonder why mum is so bothered about poop? Continue reading

Wagnerisms and transpositions

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OK, so, at last, I am back on board. Well, almost, anyway. I’ve been back in Sydney for a few weeks now, and cooking intermittently as best as I can, but life has been too hectic to keep up with posting here. The sense keep on keeping on, nevertheless, and my wonderful sensory adventures never cease.

I have been musing on perspectival differences, where simple fundamentals of living are concerned. Just one degree of separation can mean a huge divide once the trajectories are fired and off. Take cleanliness and order, for example. Continue reading

old and new

chicken pasta leftovers with freshly baked red capsicum

chicken pasta leftovers with freshly baked red capsicum

My lovely friend (and the best housemate I’ve ever had) brought home a huge tub of chicken pasta from a dinner party he’d been to at his pal’s place. Chicken and mushroom soup with pasta, to be precise, but by the time it arrived at our home, the pasta had soaked up most of the soup and what was there was a sloppy chicken mushroom pasta. It tasted much better than it looked, but I decided to add a bit of dash to it. I topped it off with freshly baked red capsicum, parmesan and my garnish du jour, chopped spring onions. Leftovers are good sometimes, even though I generally don’t like eating sloppy slushy stewy food, the texture can be somewhat ‘overcome’ by adding fresh garnishing! Continue reading


communal mess

communal mess

Everyone, of course, has a different view of what constitutes mess, and what is good or bad form. From the perspective of my own detail focused autistic mind, I find most aspects of communal life a constantly stressful, conscious process of endurance and sufferance. While I probably cause social offense in many other ways, like saying things with such brutal honesty that people are shocked or challenged or both, I am extremely considerate in the way I use communal property. I am clean. I wash up my own dishes as soon as I have finished using them. I do not leave stuff lying around. I especially will not leave a used teabag in the sink – whether my own sink even if I have it all to myself, or the sink that everyone is sharing.

The devil, it seems, really is in the detail. Continue reading


I finally made the move! A simple decision such as this, a necessary one at that, can be very difficult for an Aspie to make, for a plethora of reasons. By the time I was in meltdown state, money was no longer a reason that held me back. However, there is a complex tapestry of guilt from past condemnation / derision / dismissal by key authority and peer figuresĀ of my hypersensory anomalies and triggers. What was real to me and of utmost importance to my wellbeing and normal function, was written off by them as “over reaction,” “imagination,” “princess” behaviour etc. The desire to conform and please those who mattered to me created an intense feeling of guilt, self doubt, and at the same time double ended anger – against Self and Other. The practical result of this is a stubborn nagging guilt, and the twisted prompting to “suffer it out” so as not to be guilty of all the insensitive, unjust and ignorant labels laid upon me since early childhood. It is a spectral burden that cannot be easily shaken, not even now that I am fully consciously aware of its existence. Continue reading