satyapriya: Macchu Picchu 2009 (Default)
The time has come for TwentiesBoy to have a will. He owns property. He has stuff. It's not just a case of rocking up to a solicitor and saying 'his sister gets everything'. Oh no. Of course it's not that easy.
Phone solicitor. Nope, she can't do it. Please talk to VCAT.
Phone VCAT. Not their thing. The Supreme Court is the one who can make an order.
Phone Supreme Court. Phone rings out.
Repeat every few days for a month.
Get through to Supreme Court Wills and Probate. Get referred to a different department three times.
Talk to a man who says I need to: employ a solicitor, who will brief a barrister, who will make application to the Supreme Court for a hearing, where it will all be discussed, and then, if everyone is feeling good that day, and the planets are in alignment, an order will be made. All interested parties will have to attend. That means me, PizzaBoy, LoafAbout, TwentiesGirl, possibly TG's partner, CarMan.
Interested? Why not come along for a fun day out at the Supreme Court? Bring a packed lunch, a picnic rug, and a cricket set.
I can't say that I don't have other things I might be doing with my time. Little things such as writing books.
But hey, for sins in a past life presumably, I get to pay off the karma this lifetime with a hefty dose of admin paperwork.
All fun, all the time.
satyapriya: Macchu Picchu 2009 (Default)
Ages after everyone else has trooped over here, I've finally arrived. I've looked around, and made myself a little comfy on the old brown couch. I've yet to haul up the cushions, the blankies, the dog, and install a couple of the cats, to say nothing of switching on the salt crystal lamps, and clicking on Sacred Earth's newest cd.

Tonight, at nearly 7pm, I'm puzzling over what to say. I've left behind 12 years of lj blogging to start fresh here. Same old life, brand new space. At my feet is Penny the black cat. She's about 8 years old now, and if it's true that a black cat houses the soul of a witch, it's no wonder the poor girl is crabby most of the time. She grumps at us instead of meowing. Every morning, she hops up on the husband's pillow and subtly combs his hair with her claws. She's given up trying to hook a claw up his nose now that he has a CPAP machine. No fun to be had there. So she scrapes at his scalp until he gets up and feeds everyone.
She has her back to me, as is her way, and is somewhere between dozing, and simple disapproval of me being on the brown couch with the computer in my lap. How dare I do that and not have room for Penny.

Soon I'll retire to bed to continue reading 'Riding The Bus With My Sister'. I didn't expect this book to be an uncomfortable read, but the narrator's sister has an intellectual impairment. TwentiesPerson, my adult offspring(born male, but identifies as female) has a mild intellectual impairment. I suspect a combination of reading this book, and dealing with some stuff related to his impairment recently has lead to a series of anxiety dreams. Simply awful dreams that push all my deepest buttons. Thus, this morning, I awoke distressed. The dream flavour stayed with me all day, and I hope to not encounter the vibe of it when I get back into bed tonight. I've sprayed the sheets with sweet orange and rose geranium oils, so oils, do your uplifting thing.
TwentiesPerson was, on lj, known as TwentiesBoy, and TeenBoy before that, but I feel that I should try to be generous with his self-identification. As a language, English needs more pronouns. I know it's acceptable to refer to them as 'them' and 'they', but to me, it sounds like I'm referring to a committee. I have tried zis, and zer, zim, zes, and ze, but I can't keep it consistent. So, here, you've met TP, as he/she/ze will be known on this blog, and you've met me, SatyaPriya.
That's likely enough to start with. I do hear that long blog entries are super-unfashionable.
Tough.

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