Greedy update

After a second attempt at hand feeding Greedy yesterday, which failed because he kept spitting the pellets back out, my son came into my bedroom this morning to tell me he had died.

Poor thing. But I’m glad he is now over his suffering. 

Bye bye Greedy, thanks for the crazy memories!


Greedy – A Memoir

Approximately four years ago we purchased this sweet little goldfish to replace one that had died. My eldest (5/6 at the time), named him Goldlight the Best. We homed him in our tank with our one surviving goldfish (who died recently, but more about that later). 

It quickly became clear that Goldlight the Best was a bit of a bully. He would intimidate his tank-mate, Goldy, and literally chase him away from the food, then gobble it all up himself. Needless to say, he became very fat very fast, so we renamed him Greedy. And I learned to feed the two fish separately – not a sentence I would ever have thought I’d have to write! 

Greedy’s second love after eating, was nibbling on the gravel at the bottom of the tank, sucking a piece into his mouth and then spitting it out. But this one time, I noticed a small bit of gravel stuck…I want to say at the lips, but fish don’t have lips as such, so just at the mouth entrance, I guess. 

I didn’t really know what to do so I kinda waited for a few hours, seeing if the problem would resolve itself. But no, it didn’t and I knew Greedy wouldn’t be able to eat with a piece of gravel stuck in his mouth, so I had to get it out for him. And that was my first Greedy-saving event. If you’ve ever had to catch a fish by hand and carefully retrieve something from its mouth, whilst it’s flapping and slimy in your hand, you’ll know it’s not easy! But I did it and Greedy went back to bullying and eating.

Since then, for years, Greedy and Goldy lived together uneventfully…

Then we went away for a long weekend in November and had a friend feed our pets for us. I left very clear instructions on how little to give the fish (they only eat a tiny amount). However, when I got home, I discovered Goldy dead and floating and Greedy, struggling for survival. There was food EVERYWHERE in the tank. The poor things had been well and truly overfed.

As you can see, they only need about 6-10 of those little round, brown pellets, but received a significant amount more! I know Greedy loves his food, but not that much! He was really struggling and gasping, so I immediately removed him from the water, cleaned out the tank, the filter and the gravel, removed dead Goldy (😒) and rehomed Greedy. He was back to his usual self within 24 hours. Phew.

I purchased some lively, black goldfish to replace Goldy. I wasn’t particularly after black, but there is a shortage of gold goldfish – who knew?! The little black guys are frisky and don’t let Greedy intimidate them at all, which is cool. The kids named them Long Tail and Messi…(?)

They’re little and fast moving so quite a nice addition to the tank. And if you look to the rear right corner, you can see Greedy. He’s struggling for survival once again. This time, I’m not sure what might have happened to lead to his ‘depressed’ state. So I asked my boys, if they had been keeping up feeding the fish since we got back from camping eight days ago, and the answer was a non eye contact, quiet “um, no”. 

Oh God.

I look closer and there is no movement whatsoever. I was pretty sure he was dead as even his gills weren’t moving. I gently tapped the glass next to where he lay and his eye moved – he was alive! I scoop him up and this time there is no flapping, he is completely lifeless in my hand. I plop him in a separate jug of fish tank water and watch him lying at the bottom lifeless, wondering what the heck to do with him this time! My youngest, who is the overseer of the fish feeding, put a couple of pellets of food into the jug. Greedy does nothing. I knew now for sure, he must be on death’s door. So I hand feed my fish…another sentence I never thought I’d be writing! One by one, I put 4 pellets in his mouth.


After spending 20 minutes holding him whilst he eats the 4 pellets I hand fed him, I let go of Greedy and get to work, cleaning the filter and doing a fish tank ‘quarter water change’. I keep an eye on him and he seems a bit perkier but not much.

The jug is pretty small, so I put him back in the tank with the other two and he just sinks to the bottom, dorsel fin still flat and has stayed there motionless since. He seems to be breathing better than before so who knows. Maybe it wasn’t hunger. Maybe he’s just reached old age? Maybe he is pining for Goldy (snort)? Either way, he’s not a happy fish.


You may think I’m nuts, dedicating an entire post to a goldfish or for caring so much, but I do. Poor Greedy.

My “day off”…

Sometimes there’s this discord between my hubby and me…we are both competitive, Type A people which usually works well, but sometimes I feel like my feathers get ruffled by him. Normal in any long term partnership, I’m sure!

Today was my “day off work”, meaning I’m not at my paid job outside the home. However, I work just as hard, if not harder sometimes, in the home! Take today for example. I’ve spent several hours selecting and cleaning down all the items we are selling at Saturday’s car boot sale. 

However, I guess to him as he walks in the door, it looks as though the kids’ old toys have multiplied and thrown up all over the house! I’ve brought in all the old toys from the shed, where we were storing them because we ran out of room in the house. So, admittedly the place looks like a toy-bomb exploded but I can’t sell stuff that has years of dust all over it! (I’m Type A remember?) It must all be wiped clean with a damp cloth and soapy water and left on towels laid out to dry. πŸ™„

So he comes in and is full of how much he has to do this evening, and all I hear is blah, blah, blah. Like seriously, I have sh*t to get done too. But! I’m trying not to enter into the “I’ve got more to do, than you” argument so I swat those thoughts away. Instead, I am Miss Cranky Pants! I snap at him, then we he responds defensively, I tell him to stop being so short with me! πŸ˜‚ And instead of being an adult and sharing with him that I might be at fault, I’ve shut myself in our bedroom and communicating with you lot instead!

What a fun day off! I’m almost looking forward to work tomorrow. πŸ€”



I did it – with your help! I managed to change my thinking just enough, so I was able to get on with my day! A few months ago, a setback would send me straight into the deep abyss, reminding me of why I’m on anti depressants. 

I can’t change anyone else. I can only change me. I can only change my thoughts. And as we already know, thoughts lead to feelings, which skews our decisions and therefore leads to reality.

When I saw something that upset me, I kept thinking negatively about it and had the beginnings of major anxiety. But then I decided to ask google for help with my attitude and found this quote on the net:

I repeated and repeated and repeated the last two paragraphs throughout the day. And by 11am all signs of sick-to-the-stomach anxiety had gone. I was still upset with the choice someone made, but I wasn’t letting it take over my entire day. Now that is what I call progress!

Thank you (and my tribe at Living Sober) for your help.


My new addiction

Can you guess what my new addiction is? 

Hint: It has left me with a sore arm, sore fingers where I have pressed too hard and/or for too long, and an incredible sense of contentment. 

C’mon play, don’t leave me hanging! πŸ™

100 Years Ago, We Will Remember

 Today, 25th of April, marks the 100th anniversary of New Zealand and Australian troops landing on the beaches of Gallipoli in WW1. 

My Great Grandfather (seated in the chair outside his home) fought at Gallipoli. He was actually shot in the head, but luckily somehow, managed to have his hand up so the bullet went through his hand first. That probably saved his life. Family members have eluded to him coming home a different man and older generations blamed it on being shot in the head. But I imagine there was incredibly traumatic psychological damage too. What did our surviving men see, day in, day out for months on end?
My Grandfather, pictured on his motorbike, was training to be a pilot but tragically died when out one day with his instructor, their plane never recovered from a spin. They crashed in to the ocean, off the coast of Brighton, Dunedin. Despite search efforts the plane and their bodies were never found. His wife was just 6 months pregnant with my Dad. 

We will always remember.