Today was market day in my lovely little town.
It had rained all night and I was hesitant to pedal down to the park. I usually pack everything into the rear basket of my trike and set up at one of the permanent picnic tables in the park. I wondered how wet the park grounds were and I also wondered if it would continue to rain throughout the morning.
In the end, I decided to take the risk. I arrived right on 6.30 am, closely followed by my lovely assistant, the almost 70 yr old Aussie H, who also pedalled her trike and parked it beside mine.
Together, we took about 20 minutes to set up the stall, and right on cue, Adoring Husband arrived with our take-away coffee from the bakery. We settled back with our folding chairs and prepared for the onslaught!
The best part of our markets is catching up with all of the locals.
Unfortunately, none of them want to buy anything (to be fair, a lot of them bought my merchandise when I first started selling about 6 months ago). Instead they come to my table and stand around chatting, which is just lovely and is something that really gives me a buzz.
Sometimes, when there is a lull in the crowd, other stall holders wander over for a chat. Of course, you have to realize that our little market day only has a grand total of 25 stalls (maybe 35 on a fine weekend in tourist season!), so it's not like any of us are ever run off our feet.
Today was quite busy, as far as crowds go, but it seemed that nobody wanted to spend any money! The markets, today, was somewhere for people to pass the time and window shop. Something to do before the rains came again. Even the other stall holders were complaining about how slow the spending was ... although the 'Nut Man' on the stall next to mine, was pretty busy. Even I bought some raw nuts from him!
The weather remained threatening all day, but it didn't rain. The relative of one of my local ladies bought a bracelet from me, which was my sole sale for the day. Sad but true.
We are all looking forward to next month, which includes Easter. Our town has a big Easter Fishing Classic Competition which is so popular that our population triples and we always hold a market on Easter Saturday. It should be HUGE! Let's hope the weather is good to us!
So, after four hours, I sold one child's bracelet and spent a total of $18 at other stalls, bought an egg in bread at the SES kitchen, 2 take-away coffees from the bakery and $8 for the cost of the stall site. Pretty sure that works out to be a fairly heavy loss for the day ... financially.
Spiritually, it was a MOST successful day. I sold something that I made with my own two hands. I spent a few hours with my lovely Aussie H. I caught up with about twenty locals. I was out in the fresh air. I helped other stall holders by buying their goods. I got to brag about my lovely little Chicklet by passing round some photos. I got some exercise riding my trike. I smiled a LOT.
So much value in one happy market day!
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Yay for NRL 2011
Anybody who knows me, knows that I LOVE NRL footy. I love it so much, I incorporated references to football in our wedding vows!
This weekend marks the beginning of the 2011 NRL season and I am sitting here in front of the television watching the end of the Roosters v Rabbitohs game.
I am a huge Broncos fan. Unfortunately they lost against the Cowboys tonight, so I am disappointed. I am also disappointed because the Rabbitohs lost against the Roosters!
I'm in the footy tipping competition at the local pub and these results makes me nil from two. Not a good start to the year! Ugh!
Adoring Husband is an avid Cronulla Sharks supporter, so we attended most of the their home games when we lived in Sydney because the stadium was about ten minutes from home. It's one of the few things that we miss by living here in our little pocket of paradise.
My favourite form of the game is State of Origin football. When it's QLD (Cane Toads) v NSW (Cockroaches). Adoring Husband is a NSW supporter because he was born and bred down that way. I barrack for QLD because I was born here. There is a very healthy rivalry in our house from May thru to July every year because that's when these games are played.
We fly the flags on the outside of the house, on the car and on my trike. Game night, we dress up in the all the attire and go to the pub to watch the game. We bag each other out the whole time.
Luckily for me, QLD has been on a winning streak for the last few years, so I have had bragging rights and make the most of it at every opportunity!
So from now until September, I will be spending most weekends in front of the plasma big screen watching my beloved footy and driving the Psychotic Dogs mad when they can't figure out why I am jumping up and down off my couch and screaming at the television.
Yay for the 2011 NRL footy season!! I am so excited that it's finally here!
PS A few days ago I mentioned that one of the Lovely Layers had to visit the vet ... for those of you who care, she is fine! She didn't even get stressed by her drive in the car or being prodded by the vet because she hasn't stopped laying even for a day!
This weekend marks the beginning of the 2011 NRL season and I am sitting here in front of the television watching the end of the Roosters v Rabbitohs game.
I am a huge Broncos fan. Unfortunately they lost against the Cowboys tonight, so I am disappointed. I am also disappointed because the Rabbitohs lost against the Roosters!
I'm in the footy tipping competition at the local pub and these results makes me nil from two. Not a good start to the year! Ugh!
Adoring Husband is an avid Cronulla Sharks supporter, so we attended most of the their home games when we lived in Sydney because the stadium was about ten minutes from home. It's one of the few things that we miss by living here in our little pocket of paradise.
My favourite form of the game is State of Origin football. When it's QLD (Cane Toads) v NSW (Cockroaches). Adoring Husband is a NSW supporter because he was born and bred down that way. I barrack for QLD because I was born here. There is a very healthy rivalry in our house from May thru to July every year because that's when these games are played.
We fly the flags on the outside of the house, on the car and on my trike. Game night, we dress up in the all the attire and go to the pub to watch the game. We bag each other out the whole time.
Luckily for me, QLD has been on a winning streak for the last few years, so I have had bragging rights and make the most of it at every opportunity!
So from now until September, I will be spending most weekends in front of the plasma big screen watching my beloved footy and driving the Psychotic Dogs mad when they can't figure out why I am jumping up and down off my couch and screaming at the television.
Yay for the 2011 NRL footy season!! I am so excited that it's finally here!
PS A few days ago I mentioned that one of the Lovely Layers had to visit the vet ... for those of you who care, she is fine! She didn't even get stressed by her drive in the car or being prodded by the vet because she hasn't stopped laying even for a day!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Everybody Has a Story!
"Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier."
I believe that every greeting should include a smile and every meeting should end with a smile. There is always something happening in everybody's life and you never know what the story is behind the face you see in the street.
You don't know what happened to your neighbour this morning. The bus driver may have received some tragic news yesterday. The girl who serves you coffee may have broken up with her boyfriend last night. The Public Servant's teenager may have run away from home last week. The Receptionist may be struggling to pay rent this week. The Teacher may have just missed out on that promotion. The Bank Teller may have to attend a funeral in an hour.
There is a lot of sadness, tragedy, stress, anger and illness in the world. People are affected and react in different ways. People grieve in different ways. Sometimes, they can't afford to take time off work to deal with their issues. Others don't have a support network and are trying to cope on their own.
We can't always treat people with empathy because we don't know what their issue is. How do we know that the stranger needs sympathy? How can we tell that the gym instructor is lonely?
A smile costs nothing and a happy, positive attitude is easy to share.
Who cares if you accidentally put a red sock in with your whites this morning? It's not important that you spilt red wine on the carpet last night. So what if you forgot to charge your mobile phone and the battery is flat? Is it the end of the world if your train was cancelled and the next one made you 10 minutes late for work?
Think about it ... is it so bad that you will still be talking about it as you sit in your rocking chair on the front verandah at the age of 90? Don't sweat the small stuff and figure out what the small stuff is.
Make it your mission to bring a small piece of happiness to the people with whom you interact during your day. Smile. Laugh. Crack a joke. Use your manners and always say 'please' and 'thank you'. Be patient in the queue, whether you are in the car or at the bank.
Give yourself the power to make the world a happier place. Happiness is contagious and it has the power to heal.
I've always believed this, but even more-so now that I have my Boys at the Boat Ramp to help me start my day.
They are always smiling. Always cracking a joke. Greeting both friends and strangers with a smile at every opportunity. There is no anger, no stress and no antagonism towards anybody.
I look forward to seeing them every day and I know that I will leave them with a smile on my face. That, in turn, makes me want to share my happiness with anybody who comes near me.
If everybody with whom I come into contact, gets to share just a small degree of my happiness, and walks away with a smile, then that makes me even happier!
Everybody has a story. For those of us whose story is looking pretty good at the moment ... it's our responsibility to help improve somebody else's story, so spread the love!
Everybody has a story. For those of us whose story is looking pretty good at the moment ... it's our responsibility to help improve somebody else's story, so spread the love!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
School Reunions
Over the years, almost everyone I know has been invited to a school reunion.
Almost everyone I know has complained about receiving the invitation to their school reunion, while I was secretly envious, and wishing it was my invitation! Sadly, most of them did NOT attend their school reunion.
My Dad worked in 'oil search' so his job involved travelling, not just around Australia, but also to other countries. I have a very limited knowledge of his career in this industry, but I know that he operated a drilling rig and drilled for both oil and for water.
We lived on Brampton Island for a few months way back in the 60s and Dad's job was to drill for water. We lived in one of the resort rooms, which were nothing like they are today. They were more like the little portable units that you find in caravan parks these days.
I remember the Owner/Manager's name as 'Smithy'. He owned a boxer dog that I used to play with on the beach and every Friday night the resort had 'horse races' which involved horses made out of beer or soft drink cans. I was very young at the time, maybe 5 or 6, so I don't remember a lot of detail.
I think I was about six years of age when Mum and Dad bought a caravan so that we could follow Dad around the country in his work travels. It was a 19 foot long brand new Franklin van that Mum towed behind an old lemon and green FJ Holden, and we followed the drilling rig that Dad was driving.
Sometimes Dad would let my brother and I take turns sitting in the passenger seat of the drilling rig. I didn't like it very much because it was loud and bumpy in there. No such thing as air conditioning and they certainly weren't built for comfort!
We travelled as far north as Cairns, south to Geelong, across to Adelaide and as far west as Perth. I attended 17 different schools, which included at one stage, School of the Air and also lessons by correspondence. My lessons would arrive in a big envelope (I can still remember the smell) and I would sit at the table inside the caravan to do my work.
Living 'out bush', we bathed in a half 44 gallon drum, hiked for 100 yards carrying a shovel and roll of toilet paper to go to the toilet and made friends with kookaburras and magpies. At night we used a kerosene lamp or a torch to find our way to a far away tree for toileting and there would be little beady eyes glowing back at us from a distance.
The longest I was ever at one school was the last school I attended. Pine Rivers High School in Strathpine. I was there for about 2 miserable years. So that means that I attended 16 schools over an eight year period, which averages about 6 months per school.
I remember, while living in Cootamundra in 1982, receiving an invitation for a school reunion in Perth, which would be held the following year. Carine High School, which was a brand new school when I attended, was having a 10 yr reunion for the inaugural class of 1973. Unfortunately, I had two young children, we had just bought our first home and couldn't afford for me to travel across the country to attend.
That was my first and last invitation to a reunion. I wonder if the 40 yr reunion will be held in 2013?
I am very envious of people who got to experience their entire education at one school, with the same friends, the same school bus drivers and knowing, at the end of one year, the teachers whose classes they would attend the following year. I envied the familiarity and (my imagined) feeling of security.
I tried to create that for my own children. I wanted them to experience that stability. Of course, they did not enjoy the experience and don't have fond memories of school! The grass is always greener isn't it?!
So, I imagine that the majority of schools that I attended, don't even remember me being there, and if they did, they certainly would have no idea how to contact me now. I did not keep in contact with any of the friends that I made over those years, because we never knew where we would be living from one town to the next and mostly because I was never in a place long enough to form close enough friendships.
If there is anybody out there from Pine Rivers High who knows of a reunion for classes of 1975/76, please let me know. I would love to attend. The same goes for Carine High in Perth for the classes of 1973/74.
Being the 'people watcher' that I am, I imagine a school reunion being a most amazing experience. I have so many high school 'experiences' because I was a naughty teenager, so there are quite a few names that stand out in my memory and old school pals that I would love to catch up with now. They weren't close friends, but the sharing of some experiences creates a bond, however small, and the 'where are they now' scenario is highlighted in my brain.
Oh! The ammunition it would give me for future posts on this blog!!
Almost everyone I know has complained about receiving the invitation to their school reunion, while I was secretly envious, and wishing it was my invitation! Sadly, most of them did NOT attend their school reunion.
My Dad worked in 'oil search' so his job involved travelling, not just around Australia, but also to other countries. I have a very limited knowledge of his career in this industry, but I know that he operated a drilling rig and drilled for both oil and for water.
We lived on Brampton Island for a few months way back in the 60s and Dad's job was to drill for water. We lived in one of the resort rooms, which were nothing like they are today. They were more like the little portable units that you find in caravan parks these days.
I remember the Owner/Manager's name as 'Smithy'. He owned a boxer dog that I used to play with on the beach and every Friday night the resort had 'horse races' which involved horses made out of beer or soft drink cans. I was very young at the time, maybe 5 or 6, so I don't remember a lot of detail.
I think I was about six years of age when Mum and Dad bought a caravan so that we could follow Dad around the country in his work travels. It was a 19 foot long brand new Franklin van that Mum towed behind an old lemon and green FJ Holden, and we followed the drilling rig that Dad was driving.
Sometimes Dad would let my brother and I take turns sitting in the passenger seat of the drilling rig. I didn't like it very much because it was loud and bumpy in there. No such thing as air conditioning and they certainly weren't built for comfort!
We travelled as far north as Cairns, south to Geelong, across to Adelaide and as far west as Perth. I attended 17 different schools, which included at one stage, School of the Air and also lessons by correspondence. My lessons would arrive in a big envelope (I can still remember the smell) and I would sit at the table inside the caravan to do my work.
Living 'out bush', we bathed in a half 44 gallon drum, hiked for 100 yards carrying a shovel and roll of toilet paper to go to the toilet and made friends with kookaburras and magpies. At night we used a kerosene lamp or a torch to find our way to a far away tree for toileting and there would be little beady eyes glowing back at us from a distance.
The longest I was ever at one school was the last school I attended. Pine Rivers High School in Strathpine. I was there for about 2 miserable years. So that means that I attended 16 schools over an eight year period, which averages about 6 months per school.
I remember, while living in Cootamundra in 1982, receiving an invitation for a school reunion in Perth, which would be held the following year. Carine High School, which was a brand new school when I attended, was having a 10 yr reunion for the inaugural class of 1973. Unfortunately, I had two young children, we had just bought our first home and couldn't afford for me to travel across the country to attend.
That was my first and last invitation to a reunion. I wonder if the 40 yr reunion will be held in 2013?
I am very envious of people who got to experience their entire education at one school, with the same friends, the same school bus drivers and knowing, at the end of one year, the teachers whose classes they would attend the following year. I envied the familiarity and (my imagined) feeling of security.
I tried to create that for my own children. I wanted them to experience that stability. Of course, they did not enjoy the experience and don't have fond memories of school! The grass is always greener isn't it?!
So, I imagine that the majority of schools that I attended, don't even remember me being there, and if they did, they certainly would have no idea how to contact me now. I did not keep in contact with any of the friends that I made over those years, because we never knew where we would be living from one town to the next and mostly because I was never in a place long enough to form close enough friendships.
If there is anybody out there from Pine Rivers High who knows of a reunion for classes of 1975/76, please let me know. I would love to attend. The same goes for Carine High in Perth for the classes of 1973/74.
Being the 'people watcher' that I am, I imagine a school reunion being a most amazing experience. I have so many high school 'experiences' because I was a naughty teenager, so there are quite a few names that stand out in my memory and old school pals that I would love to catch up with now. They weren't close friends, but the sharing of some experiences creates a bond, however small, and the 'where are they now' scenario is highlighted in my brain.
Oh! The ammunition it would give me for future posts on this blog!!
Our Perfect Wedding Day
Adoring Husband and I were married last year in April, the day after my 50th birthday. It was (children's births aside) the happiest day of my life. I was positively overflowing with love and joy on that day. We had friends and family travel long distances to attend, and feeling their love, having them share the day, just made it so wonderful and special. These words simply do not convey how amazing the day was for me.
Adoring Husband proposed to me on a karaoke stage, in the same pub, believe it or not, where he had met his first two wives! We had gone out for dinner with friends, so they were there to witness this proposal and they were pretty excited to be part of it.
He passed a note to the karaoke guy that read "Mick, call me up next. I want to propose to my girlfriend". So Mick calls him up. He hands Adoring Husband the microphone, who promptly gets down on one knee and asks me to marry him. I cannot, for the life of me, remember the words he used, but I do remember pausing, looking around at the crowd and then replying "absolutely", to which they all clapped and cheered.
I also recall telling Adoring Husband (or Adoring Fiance as he was back then) that I was disappointed that it wasn't a sober proposal.
We planned our wedding to go ahead a year later in Griffith, where I had lived for 22 years prior to moving to Sydney. Due to circumstances that I won't go into here, we had to cancel those plans and our wedding was postponed indefinitely.
So, last year, for my 50th birthday, my best friend, who you met in my most recent post and who once again will be known as Beautiful Girl with the Long Blonde Hair (aka BGWLBH), decided that she wanted to do something special for my birthday and shouted me a week in Surfer's Paradise.
Because of this, Vegan Chickie had to reveal that she had already planned a surprise visit with The Bare-chested Chef for my birthday.
Adoring Husband then decided that this might be a great opportunity to plan our wedding! We had six weeks to plan it. The first thing we did was contact the first Celebrant that we found on the internet. She was booked solid for a year, but had JUST had a cancellation for the exact weekend that we wanted. From there, every plan fell beautifully in place, as if it was always meant to be.
I wanted a wedding in the park by the river, followed by lunch at the pub. My friends and Adoring Husband decided that we should have something better than that. I raised my hands in the air and said "If that's the case, you can plan it without me. I don't want to know ANYTHING about it because I don't want any stress. Just do it!"
Two weeks before the wedding BGWLBH and I met in Surfer's Paradise. On the first day, we went shopping for the wedding dress and put together the perfect outfit in one day for half the price that we expected. That meant we could shop and play for the rest of the week! Wahoo for us!
It was an amazing week and we had a blast together. The weather was great. We had a nice win at the casino, so we got to do even more shopping and we ate at a different restaurant every night. We hadn't had any girlie fun like that in years, so it was good for us.
We drove home at the end of the week to find Vegan Chickie and The Bare-chested Chef waiting for us. What a happy re-union that was!
There was a Hen's night. Friends and family filtered in over the following days. A neighbour offered their house for guests to use while they were away, which was a wonderful gesture.
The day before the wedding was my 50th birthday. We had 50 guests come to the local pub for a birthday dinner. It was a great night and Adoring Husband had provided the most beautiful cake that I had ever seen. My local girlfriends had made up a basket with silly gifts that I had to open one by one and we had a few short speeches and some laughs.
The perfect cake!
Finally, the big day arrived. As a surprise, Adoring Husband had arranged for our neighbour with a white convertible Mercedes, to be our driver. He picked us both up at the house and drove us to the park. It was a glorious day. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, the water was glistening in the sunlight and all our friends were gathered there waiting for us to arrive.
The Celebrant had sprinkled rose petals along the pathway and we walked (and danced a little) to the sound of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough". We reached the Celebrant and made our vows, which included some fun stuff about football and golf, but also the serious and romantic stuff. We signed the registry to the music "I Wanna Grow Old With You" from the movie 'The Wedding Singer' and then finished with "You Make Me So Very Happy" amid the cheers, applause and congratulatory hugs from our friends and family.
Off we went to a friend's house, where the secret wedding reception had been planned and as we walked up the driveway, there were all the portable gazebos and tables decorated in my favourite colour, purple. It was so beautifully done. They had gone to so much trouble to make it the way they thought I would like it. Not too much and not too little. It was just right!
We drank, we ate, we danced, we made speeches. My sister, Squirt, made a speech that brought everyone to tears. Another perfectly beautiful cake was provided. We danced some more and a few even sang ... badly I might add.
The happiest day of my life :o)
After about 10 hours, our wedding and reception was over.
It was so much more than I could ever have imagined. The work that so many of my friends put into making it the perfect day, was above and beyond anything that I could hope for. Everybody was happy and smiling and laughing and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
My heart overflows with joy whenever I think of that day. It was, indeed, our perfect wedding day!
Adoring Husband proposed to me on a karaoke stage, in the same pub, believe it or not, where he had met his first two wives! We had gone out for dinner with friends, so they were there to witness this proposal and they were pretty excited to be part of it.
He passed a note to the karaoke guy that read "Mick, call me up next. I want to propose to my girlfriend". So Mick calls him up. He hands Adoring Husband the microphone, who promptly gets down on one knee and asks me to marry him. I cannot, for the life of me, remember the words he used, but I do remember pausing, looking around at the crowd and then replying "absolutely", to which they all clapped and cheered.
I also recall telling Adoring Husband (or Adoring Fiance as he was back then) that I was disappointed that it wasn't a sober proposal.
We planned our wedding to go ahead a year later in Griffith, where I had lived for 22 years prior to moving to Sydney. Due to circumstances that I won't go into here, we had to cancel those plans and our wedding was postponed indefinitely.
So, last year, for my 50th birthday, my best friend, who you met in my most recent post and who once again will be known as Beautiful Girl with the Long Blonde Hair (aka BGWLBH), decided that she wanted to do something special for my birthday and shouted me a week in Surfer's Paradise.
Because of this, Vegan Chickie had to reveal that she had already planned a surprise visit with The Bare-chested Chef for my birthday.
Adoring Husband then decided that this might be a great opportunity to plan our wedding! We had six weeks to plan it. The first thing we did was contact the first Celebrant that we found on the internet. She was booked solid for a year, but had JUST had a cancellation for the exact weekend that we wanted. From there, every plan fell beautifully in place, as if it was always meant to be.
I wanted a wedding in the park by the river, followed by lunch at the pub. My friends and Adoring Husband decided that we should have something better than that. I raised my hands in the air and said "If that's the case, you can plan it without me. I don't want to know ANYTHING about it because I don't want any stress. Just do it!"
Two weeks before the wedding BGWLBH and I met in Surfer's Paradise. On the first day, we went shopping for the wedding dress and put together the perfect outfit in one day for half the price that we expected. That meant we could shop and play for the rest of the week! Wahoo for us!
It was an amazing week and we had a blast together. The weather was great. We had a nice win at the casino, so we got to do even more shopping and we ate at a different restaurant every night. We hadn't had any girlie fun like that in years, so it was good for us.
We drove home at the end of the week to find Vegan Chickie and The Bare-chested Chef waiting for us. What a happy re-union that was!
There was a Hen's night. Friends and family filtered in over the following days. A neighbour offered their house for guests to use while they were away, which was a wonderful gesture.
The day before the wedding was my 50th birthday. We had 50 guests come to the local pub for a birthday dinner. It was a great night and Adoring Husband had provided the most beautiful cake that I had ever seen. My local girlfriends had made up a basket with silly gifts that I had to open one by one and we had a few short speeches and some laughs.
The perfect cake!Finally, the big day arrived. As a surprise, Adoring Husband had arranged for our neighbour with a white convertible Mercedes, to be our driver. He picked us both up at the house and drove us to the park. It was a glorious day. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, the water was glistening in the sunlight and all our friends were gathered there waiting for us to arrive.
The Celebrant had sprinkled rose petals along the pathway and we walked (and danced a little) to the sound of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough". We reached the Celebrant and made our vows, which included some fun stuff about football and golf, but also the serious and romantic stuff. We signed the registry to the music "I Wanna Grow Old With You" from the movie 'The Wedding Singer' and then finished with "You Make Me So Very Happy" amid the cheers, applause and congratulatory hugs from our friends and family.
Off we went to a friend's house, where the secret wedding reception had been planned and as we walked up the driveway, there were all the portable gazebos and tables decorated in my favourite colour, purple. It was so beautifully done. They had gone to so much trouble to make it the way they thought I would like it. Not too much and not too little. It was just right!
We drank, we ate, we danced, we made speeches. My sister, Squirt, made a speech that brought everyone to tears. Another perfectly beautiful cake was provided. We danced some more and a few even sang ... badly I might add.
The happiest day of my life :o)After about 10 hours, our wedding and reception was over.
It was so much more than I could ever have imagined. The work that so many of my friends put into making it the perfect day, was above and beyond anything that I could hope for. Everybody was happy and smiling and laughing and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
My heart overflows with joy whenever I think of that day. It was, indeed, our perfect wedding day!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Arty Farty Creator!
Wow! I can't believe how today got away from me!
I began the day by taking photos of my jewellery. A prospective customer asked me to email some photos of jewellery I had made that I hadn't yet posted on facebook. Until now, I've taken plain photos with a black background but I thought I should be a bit more creative this time.
So, I grabbed items from around the house that I thought I could use as props and took them with me out into the sunshine, along with my camera.
I'm pretty happy with the results ... obviously not professional, but they show off my jewellery quite well. (click on my facebook badge on the right)
I spent a number of hours creating a slideshow, that I hoped I could email to this person, but it turned out to be too big to email.
It then took a bit of time to email the photos separately to this person, with individual information for each photo.
I cooked dinner after that! Fajitas. Thank you Bare-chested Chef for the fabulous recipe!
Of course, I had to then upload the photos to facebook and tag the information on them.
Now I am here!
It's hard work being an arty farty creator!
I've always been quite artistic and creative. My first memory of learning to draw is around the age of 4, when a friend's neighbour taught me how to draw a cowboy with chaps and boots, a gun holster with gun, a vest and kerchief tied around the neck and the big cowboy hat. I found it so easy and I must have drawn hundreds of cowboys on every piece of paper, blackboard and flat piece of dirt I could find!
At school, I always got top marks for my art assignments and received very positive comments like my favourite in year 10, "These are the most beautiful and sensitive drawings that I've seen in a school art project" or "I hope to see you go further with your art, in a professional basis, when school is over".
My big plan was to become a Commercial Artist, but, as my big plans often did in those days, they fizzled away to nothing.
I did a bit of drawing and sketching over the years. In 1981, I enrolled in an art course and then promptly fell pregnant with my third child. I didn't think I was capable of being pregnant, participating in an art course, caring for a child (my first had passed away) and a husband effectively, so I canned the course.
In 1997, I enrolled in another course to learn oil painting. I did this course for 4 months and completed one large oil painting and few smaller ones. Just as I finished the large painting, my father passed away, and that drained all of my motivation to do anything artistic or creative for a long time. I still, to this day, have not touched my oil paints, but am slowly convincing myself to consider the option!
Then in 2005, my Mum passed away suddenly. On the way home from (interstate) her funeral, in a little town called "Johns River", my girlfriend (who shall be known as Beautiful Girl With the Long Blonde Hair, or BGWLBH) (private joke) and I stopped at the local markets.
There, for sale, on one of the stalls, was a bracelet made out of pink beads, pearls and charms. BGWLBH and I argued over who was going to buy it. I played the sympathy card and won. I loved the bracelet and thought that it would be pretty easy to make.
When we returned to Sydney (where I lived at the time), I searched through craft stores for all the resources that I might need and proceeded to make the exact same bracelet that I had bought! It was easy and then it became my therapy. It helped me through a very sad time in my life, after my mother's death had sent me into a dark place, and it kept me on the right side of sane.
Just over two years ago, Adoring Husband bought me my first quality camera and I took up photography. Vegan Chickie is also talented in this field. She and I email a photo to each other every day, of something that we've seen or done with a little story attached. It's a great way to keep in touch and be involved in each other's life.
A local business woman, after seeing examples of my work, hired me to do some photography for a Government funded tourism website. Through that I've been hired for special events and am currently considering a wedding job in October!
So now, I have bought myself some more art equipment and am getting back into drawing and sketching and experimenting with pastels.
I'm feeling particularly arty, farty and creative these days so stay tuned for some arty farty creations!
Saturday, March 5, 2011
I wish I could sing
I am a big fan of 'reality tv'. I think it's because I am a people watcher. I once sat at Sydney airport for seven hours between flights just watching people. It's fun to make up stories about the people and what fills their lives.
I enjoy watching people put themselves in unfamiliar territory, like Big Brother or Survivor, to see how they cope with new people, pressure situations, competition, change in routine, different diets and being out of their comfort zone.
By far, my favourite reality TV is the talent show. American & Australian Idols, X Factor, Australia's Got Talent. I am so envious of people with beautiful singing voices, who can stand on a stage with such 'presence' that they command the attention of thousands of people.
As a teenager, I thought I could sing well. When I was 15, I was given a cassette player for my birthday (you young people may not know what that is, so I suggest that you google it!) and one of the first things that I did, was get myself a blank tape and record myself singing Olivia Newton John's 'I Honestly Love You'.
So it really irks me that so many hundreds of people audition for these talent shows when clearly they have no talent! Have they ever listened to themselves? What you hear in your own head is completely different to what you hear on the tape or recording of your voice.
These shows should have a little room for these people to go into. They can record their own singing, listen to it, and then decide if they really want to audition on national or international television. Really!!
I have spent this afternoon watching American Idol. The top twelve males and then the top twelve females. I am imagining what it must be like to open your mouth and have such beautiful sounds flow out and over an audience of appreciative people.
I wonder if it's possible to go to lessons. Start with nothing and after enough practise and hard work develop something remotely close to a pleasant singing voice? Is it possible? Am I too old? Would the teacher listen once, shake his/her head and tell me 'there is no hope'?
Not long before my Mum passed away, I asked her "Is there anything you wish you could change about your life?" She replied "I would give anything to be six inches taller". She was just under five feet tall.
If somebody asked me the same question, I would reply
I enjoy watching people put themselves in unfamiliar territory, like Big Brother or Survivor, to see how they cope with new people, pressure situations, competition, change in routine, different diets and being out of their comfort zone.
By far, my favourite reality TV is the talent show. American & Australian Idols, X Factor, Australia's Got Talent. I am so envious of people with beautiful singing voices, who can stand on a stage with such 'presence' that they command the attention of thousands of people.
As a teenager, I thought I could sing well. When I was 15, I was given a cassette player for my birthday (you young people may not know what that is, so I suggest that you google it!) and one of the first things that I did, was get myself a blank tape and record myself singing Olivia Newton John's 'I Honestly Love You'.
One of the more devastating moments of my life was when I played it to myself for the first time. That horrible realisation that my singing voice was non-existant. I couldn't hold a note. Totally off-key for the whole song. I would never be the next Olivia Newton John or Suzi Quatro.
***sad face***
So it really irks me that so many hundreds of people audition for these talent shows when clearly they have no talent! Have they ever listened to themselves? What you hear in your own head is completely different to what you hear on the tape or recording of your voice.
These shows should have a little room for these people to go into. They can record their own singing, listen to it, and then decide if they really want to audition on national or international television. Really!!
I have spent this afternoon watching American Idol. The top twelve males and then the top twelve females. I am imagining what it must be like to open your mouth and have such beautiful sounds flow out and over an audience of appreciative people.
I wonder if it's possible to go to lessons. Start with nothing and after enough practise and hard work develop something remotely close to a pleasant singing voice? Is it possible? Am I too old? Would the teacher listen once, shake his/her head and tell me 'there is no hope'?
Not long before my Mum passed away, I asked her "Is there anything you wish you could change about your life?" She replied "I would give anything to be six inches taller". She was just under five feet tall.
If somebody asked me the same question, I would reply
"I wish I could sing"
Friday, March 4, 2011
My Animal Kids
Adoring Husband is taking one of our Lovely Layers to the Vet this afternoon. She is being attacked by one of the others and her butt has been almost plucked raw! So we separated her yesterday afternoon and called the Vet, who advised that we should take her in to see her.
We acquired our Lovely Layers in July last year after Adoring Husband built the Taj Mahal of hen houses and aptly named it 'Chook Paradise'. They began laying about 10 days after they arrived and we get 3 eggs every day. Of course we can't eat that many eggs so we give them out to my local boys at the boat ramp every two or three weeks.
I decided to name our Lovely Layers after my three favourite Mothers-in-Law. Helen, who was my first mother-in-law, and who I know reads my posts here regularly, ***waves happily*** Hi Helen! The next one is Dorothy. I wasn't married to her son but lived with him for 12 yrs and she is just lovely. The third one is named Nellie and she is my current mother-in-law. Lovely Layer named Nellie is funny because she chases Adoring Husband and tries to peck at his toes.
If you are interested, I will keep you posted on the Vet's diagnosis tomorrow.
We also have three dogs. Jack, Ruby and Colli. Jack is a white Chihuahua/Maltese cross and we bought him from a pet shop in Sydney. Vegan Chickie and I saw him in the window and fell in love straight away because he looked broken. He was there for over a week and all the puppies around him were being sold. He had crooked teeth, a pink spot on his nose, scruffy, messy fur and he kind of sat in the background looking all sad and forlorn.
We named him before we even knew we would buy him - JUST Jack! Like Jack from the TV series, Will and Grace. It took me a while to convince Adoring Husband to even look at him in the window and then when he did, he pointed to all the other cute puppies and said 'Are you sure you don't want that one, or what about that one?'. I pleaded Jack's case and finally talked Adoring Husband around.
Even though Adoring Husband's strict instructions were that Jack must be an outside dog and was not allowed on the furniture or in the bed, Jack slept in our bed on the first night (and every night after), only ever went outside to do his doggy business and had a permanent spot on the couch from day one. Adoring Husband is such a softie.
Jack, who is now 5 yrs old, has grown into a loud, cranky, moody, cantankerous old man. He is a law unto himself and super protective of his territory. Most people consider him a challenge and try extra hard to make friends with him.
Six months after Jack, at the same pet shop, I found Ruby. She was broken too and looked like a female version of Jack, but a little smaller. She is also Chihuahua/Maltese cross. No convincing required this time. I bought her immediately and she fit beautifully into our little family.
She is too friendly and adores anybody who steps foot on her property. She raises her top lip and gives us a big smile when we come home and has this excited little high pitched squeal of excitement. She wags her tail so hard that her little body bends and almost snaps in half from the pressure! She is my favourite.
Another six months later and Adoring Husband and I were on a weekend outing around Mittagong way, south of Sydney, when we happened to walk past a pet shop. There in the window was a litter of black and white Maltese/Shitzu cross puppies. We went inside and asked to see them. As the girl opened the glass sliding door, all of them came running except one in the far right corner. Straight away I said "That's the one" as I pointed to the quiet, shy one.
We left the pet shop without puppy and were driving along the freeway, heading home and I looked at Adoring Husband and said "We can turn around. We can go back and get her you know." That's all he needed to hear. He found the first place to turn around and we drove back to get Colli.
Adoring Husband always wanted a Border Collie, but he admitted to being too lazy to walk one daily. He is also an avid Collingwood (AFL football) supporter and their colours are black and white. It just seemed fitting to name our new little black and white puppy, Colli.
So that is your introduction to our family of animal kids. They are all spoilt rotten and we love them a lot - I guess we use them to try to make up for all the mistakes we made with our human kids. Needless to say, our animal kids are just as mixed up as our human kids LOL but there is plenty of love for everyone!
We love yas awl!
We acquired our Lovely Layers in July last year after Adoring Husband built the Taj Mahal of hen houses and aptly named it 'Chook Paradise'. They began laying about 10 days after they arrived and we get 3 eggs every day. Of course we can't eat that many eggs so we give them out to my local boys at the boat ramp every two or three weeks.
I decided to name our Lovely Layers after my three favourite Mothers-in-Law. Helen, who was my first mother-in-law, and who I know reads my posts here regularly, ***waves happily*** Hi Helen! The next one is Dorothy. I wasn't married to her son but lived with him for 12 yrs and she is just lovely. The third one is named Nellie and she is my current mother-in-law. Lovely Layer named Nellie is funny because she chases Adoring Husband and tries to peck at his toes.
If you are interested, I will keep you posted on the Vet's diagnosis tomorrow.
We also have three dogs. Jack, Ruby and Colli. Jack is a white Chihuahua/Maltese cross and we bought him from a pet shop in Sydney. Vegan Chickie and I saw him in the window and fell in love straight away because he looked broken. He was there for over a week and all the puppies around him were being sold. He had crooked teeth, a pink spot on his nose, scruffy, messy fur and he kind of sat in the background looking all sad and forlorn.
We named him before we even knew we would buy him - JUST Jack! Like Jack from the TV series, Will and Grace. It took me a while to convince Adoring Husband to even look at him in the window and then when he did, he pointed to all the other cute puppies and said 'Are you sure you don't want that one, or what about that one?'. I pleaded Jack's case and finally talked Adoring Husband around.
Even though Adoring Husband's strict instructions were that Jack must be an outside dog and was not allowed on the furniture or in the bed, Jack slept in our bed on the first night (and every night after), only ever went outside to do his doggy business and had a permanent spot on the couch from day one. Adoring Husband is such a softie.
Jack, who is now 5 yrs old, has grown into a loud, cranky, moody, cantankerous old man. He is a law unto himself and super protective of his territory. Most people consider him a challenge and try extra hard to make friends with him.
Six months after Jack, at the same pet shop, I found Ruby. She was broken too and looked like a female version of Jack, but a little smaller. She is also Chihuahua/Maltese cross. No convincing required this time. I bought her immediately and she fit beautifully into our little family.
She is too friendly and adores anybody who steps foot on her property. She raises her top lip and gives us a big smile when we come home and has this excited little high pitched squeal of excitement. She wags her tail so hard that her little body bends and almost snaps in half from the pressure! She is my favourite.
Another six months later and Adoring Husband and I were on a weekend outing around Mittagong way, south of Sydney, when we happened to walk past a pet shop. There in the window was a litter of black and white Maltese/Shitzu cross puppies. We went inside and asked to see them. As the girl opened the glass sliding door, all of them came running except one in the far right corner. Straight away I said "That's the one" as I pointed to the quiet, shy one.
We left the pet shop without puppy and were driving along the freeway, heading home and I looked at Adoring Husband and said "We can turn around. We can go back and get her you know." That's all he needed to hear. He found the first place to turn around and we drove back to get Colli.
Adoring Husband always wanted a Border Collie, but he admitted to being too lazy to walk one daily. He is also an avid Collingwood (AFL football) supporter and their colours are black and white. It just seemed fitting to name our new little black and white puppy, Colli.
So that is your introduction to our family of animal kids. They are all spoilt rotten and we love them a lot - I guess we use them to try to make up for all the mistakes we made with our human kids. Needless to say, our animal kids are just as mixed up as our human kids LOL but there is plenty of love for everyone!
We love yas awl!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Boys in Black
This morning I did my usual morning 'thing' and pedalled down to the bakery to get my coffee before heading over to the boat ramp. As I walked along past the supermarket and the wall of mailboxes, two young men came walking towards me. They were strangers in town.
I know a LOT of people in my little town and it's easy to recognise a local, by their relaxed air of confidence and the sense of ownership that they emanate. We are a small, close community and everybody smiles and says hello to each other in the street. It's one of the many quirky little gifts that our town has to offer.
We are in Queensland, in a small coastal beach town, and it goes without saying that it is hot and humid at this time of the year. The usual attire is shorts, singlet tops and thongs. Even at 8am, I sit by the river with a hand held fan, trying to blow the beads of perspiration on my head and neck dry.
So these two strangers, who I would guess to be in their late teens, were walking towards the bakery. One of them was wearing board shorts, a black suit jacket and a very large sombrero. The other was wearing a black suit, no shirt, no shoes, no hat. Stand out much?!
I said to Adoring Husband, who had suddenly appeared beside me, after his golf game got rained out, "Far out! They must be hot in those clothes!"
Off I went to spend the morning with my boys at the boat ramp and then later to the local hall to play Indoor Bowls which I do every week.
As I pedalled towards the car park, I noticed someone sitting in the bus shelter and when I glanced across, it was the young man in the sombrero. He looked up, smiled and said hello as I breezed past him and I wondered where his friend had disappeared to.
I got through the car park and was parking my trike, when the other young man came out of the men's toilets doing up his fly. He didn't make eye contact and he seemed to be having trouble getting that zipper up!
I walked up the stairs towards the door of the hall, when 3 ladies walked out and in quite a panicked tone, asked if we had seen these two strange young men who had been 'acting suspiciously' around the hall. I told them that two young men were sitting at the bus shelter.
The ladies were incredibly relieved. One of them rushed to make sure her car was locked and another made concerned chatter about whether our bicycles would be safe outside.
I asked "How were they acting suspiciously?" and the reply that I got was "They were sitting in the covered area between the toilets and the hall, watching the women arrive and walk into the hall."
I then asked myself (in my head) "How is that 'acting suspiciously'?"
Just because these boys were obviously not locals, young, and dressed in something other than shorts, singlet and thongs we immediately believe that their every move, no matter how innocent, deems them to be 'acting suspiciously'!
This was one of those rare occasions when my lovely town made me feel embarrassed. When I looked at these elderly women and saw unreasonable fear in their eyes because they stereotyped these young men and made assumptions about their honesty and integrity without even speaking a word to them.
With hindsight, I should have walked to the bus shelter and invited the boys back to the hall to meet the ladies. I wonder how that would have panned out??
Anyway, I hope that these young men are having a lovely time in our little town. I hope that the locals don't scare them off too soon and I hope that they can find some cooler clothes to wear, because it's WAY TOO HOT to be wearing a black suit!
I know a LOT of people in my little town and it's easy to recognise a local, by their relaxed air of confidence and the sense of ownership that they emanate. We are a small, close community and everybody smiles and says hello to each other in the street. It's one of the many quirky little gifts that our town has to offer.
We are in Queensland, in a small coastal beach town, and it goes without saying that it is hot and humid at this time of the year. The usual attire is shorts, singlet tops and thongs. Even at 8am, I sit by the river with a hand held fan, trying to blow the beads of perspiration on my head and neck dry.
So these two strangers, who I would guess to be in their late teens, were walking towards the bakery. One of them was wearing board shorts, a black suit jacket and a very large sombrero. The other was wearing a black suit, no shirt, no shoes, no hat. Stand out much?!
I said to Adoring Husband, who had suddenly appeared beside me, after his golf game got rained out, "Far out! They must be hot in those clothes!"
Off I went to spend the morning with my boys at the boat ramp and then later to the local hall to play Indoor Bowls which I do every week.
As I pedalled towards the car park, I noticed someone sitting in the bus shelter and when I glanced across, it was the young man in the sombrero. He looked up, smiled and said hello as I breezed past him and I wondered where his friend had disappeared to.
I got through the car park and was parking my trike, when the other young man came out of the men's toilets doing up his fly. He didn't make eye contact and he seemed to be having trouble getting that zipper up!
I walked up the stairs towards the door of the hall, when 3 ladies walked out and in quite a panicked tone, asked if we had seen these two strange young men who had been 'acting suspiciously' around the hall. I told them that two young men were sitting at the bus shelter.
The ladies were incredibly relieved. One of them rushed to make sure her car was locked and another made concerned chatter about whether our bicycles would be safe outside.
I asked "How were they acting suspiciously?" and the reply that I got was "They were sitting in the covered area between the toilets and the hall, watching the women arrive and walk into the hall."
I then asked myself (in my head) "How is that 'acting suspiciously'?"
Just because these boys were obviously not locals, young, and dressed in something other than shorts, singlet and thongs we immediately believe that their every move, no matter how innocent, deems them to be 'acting suspiciously'!
This was one of those rare occasions when my lovely town made me feel embarrassed. When I looked at these elderly women and saw unreasonable fear in their eyes because they stereotyped these young men and made assumptions about their honesty and integrity without even speaking a word to them.
With hindsight, I should have walked to the bus shelter and invited the boys back to the hall to meet the ladies. I wonder how that would have panned out??
Anyway, I hope that these young men are having a lovely time in our little town. I hope that the locals don't scare them off too soon and I hope that they can find some cooler clothes to wear, because it's WAY TOO HOT to be wearing a black suit!
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
No proof, but I swear it's true!
In June, 1973, The Jackson 5 toured Australia. I was thirteen years old and living in Perth at the time. The song 'Ben' (about a rat) was the number one song on the music charts. I was passionately in love with Jermaine Jackson because he had the biggest hair and a fabulous smile that melted my heart! Michael was only a year older than me, but the older Jermaine was my dream man!
A friend, Sharon, and her Mum invited me to go to the concert with them, which was being held at the the Beatty Park Swimming Centre (where I, co-incidentally, had participated in swim meets with my swimming club.)
This particular swimming centre was built in the 60s for the Commonwealth Games which were held in Perth so there was plenty of seating for a large audience. They built the stage over the top of the 50 metre swimming pool and our seats were on the second tier and a little way to the right.
It was the second concert that I had ever attended. Mum had taken me to see Johnny Farnham at Festival Hall in Brisbane the year before. We were in balcony seats for that one and Mum had to pull me back at one point when I got a bit excited while screaming Johnny's name and I almost fell over the balcony!
Before the Jackson 5 concert, we went shopping to buy a special outfit and I bought a pair of cream cuffed Oxford flare trousers, a lemon yellow wrap around wing-sleeved top and some brown platform sandals. My hairstyle at the time was called a 'Lioness', which is the equivalent of today's 'Mullet'. I was incredibly stylish ... as you can imagine!
I remember being worried during the whole concert, that the Jacksons would fall off the stage and into the pool, but I only have one vivid memory of the concert and that is of them dancing to, and singing 'ABC'. Sharon and I looked at each other like it was the most exciting moment of our lives and we would clearly remember it forever more! Obviously, we were correct ... although, I haven't seen Sharon for 35 years, so who knows if she remembers this moment like I do?
At the end of the concert, as we piled into the car to go home, Sharon's mother suggested that we drive to the airport to see the Jackson's flight off. I think that they were flying to Adelaide for the next leg of their concert. We all agreed that it may be a hell of a fight through crowds of screaming teenagers, but we also agreed that it would DEFINITELY be worth it, so off we went.
Surprisingly, when we arrived at the airport, it was suspiciously quiet. The car park was quite empty and there was not a screaming teenager to be seen.
As we entered the terminal, a man in a security uniform asked if he could help us. Sharron's Mum told him why we were there and he walked off stating that he would return shortly. Fifteen minutes later, as promised, he did return and asked us if we wanted to meet the Jackson 5!
My heart is skipping a beat as I remember my heart skipping a beat!
We followed him through a long wide hallway until we reached a door that had a 'VIP' plaque stuck to the front of it. He knocked softly and we heard a muffled sound respond. He turned the handle of the door and slowly opened it inwards. There, sitting on a chair on the opposite wall, was none other than the man of my dreams, Jermaine Jackson!! Oh my!! My legs could barely hold me up and with every step towards him, I thought I was going to collapse!
Sharon's mother had rifled through her bag to find paper for us to get autographs, so as I reached Jermaine, he handed me a champagne glass full of something bubbly and said "Would you please hold my drink while I sign your paper?" I nodded wide-eyed, incapable of uttering a sound.
I heard the door open behind me, and as I glanced around, I saw Michael walk through the same doorway that we had entered. He smiled at us and said "Hi!". He came over and sat in the chair beside me and reached for Sharon's paper to sign it.
We shuffled along the back wall of the room, where each member of the Jackson 5 were sitting and got their signatures, one by one, on our paper, too shocked to speak.
I can't remember anything else from that night. I may well have gone into shock immediately after the experience, and my brain has blocked the rest out!
Sadly, sometime during my many moves to different houses in different states of Australia, my piece of Jackson 5 paper disappeared. I am certain, with all five signatures of the Jackson 5, it would have held quite some value these days, but alas, it is gone forever!
I have no proof to show for a night where one of my girlish dreams came true. Just some faded memories and a great little story to tell!
A friend, Sharon, and her Mum invited me to go to the concert with them, which was being held at the the Beatty Park Swimming Centre (where I, co-incidentally, had participated in swim meets with my swimming club.)
This particular swimming centre was built in the 60s for the Commonwealth Games which were held in Perth so there was plenty of seating for a large audience. They built the stage over the top of the 50 metre swimming pool and our seats were on the second tier and a little way to the right.
It was the second concert that I had ever attended. Mum had taken me to see Johnny Farnham at Festival Hall in Brisbane the year before. We were in balcony seats for that one and Mum had to pull me back at one point when I got a bit excited while screaming Johnny's name and I almost fell over the balcony!
Before the Jackson 5 concert, we went shopping to buy a special outfit and I bought a pair of cream cuffed Oxford flare trousers, a lemon yellow wrap around wing-sleeved top and some brown platform sandals. My hairstyle at the time was called a 'Lioness', which is the equivalent of today's 'Mullet'. I was incredibly stylish ... as you can imagine!
I remember being worried during the whole concert, that the Jacksons would fall off the stage and into the pool, but I only have one vivid memory of the concert and that is of them dancing to, and singing 'ABC'. Sharon and I looked at each other like it was the most exciting moment of our lives and we would clearly remember it forever more! Obviously, we were correct ... although, I haven't seen Sharon for 35 years, so who knows if she remembers this moment like I do?
At the end of the concert, as we piled into the car to go home, Sharon's mother suggested that we drive to the airport to see the Jackson's flight off. I think that they were flying to Adelaide for the next leg of their concert. We all agreed that it may be a hell of a fight through crowds of screaming teenagers, but we also agreed that it would DEFINITELY be worth it, so off we went.
Surprisingly, when we arrived at the airport, it was suspiciously quiet. The car park was quite empty and there was not a screaming teenager to be seen.
As we entered the terminal, a man in a security uniform asked if he could help us. Sharron's Mum told him why we were there and he walked off stating that he would return shortly. Fifteen minutes later, as promised, he did return and asked us if we wanted to meet the Jackson 5!
My heart is skipping a beat as I remember my heart skipping a beat!
We followed him through a long wide hallway until we reached a door that had a 'VIP' plaque stuck to the front of it. He knocked softly and we heard a muffled sound respond. He turned the handle of the door and slowly opened it inwards. There, sitting on a chair on the opposite wall, was none other than the man of my dreams, Jermaine Jackson!! Oh my!! My legs could barely hold me up and with every step towards him, I thought I was going to collapse!
Sharon's mother had rifled through her bag to find paper for us to get autographs, so as I reached Jermaine, he handed me a champagne glass full of something bubbly and said "Would you please hold my drink while I sign your paper?" I nodded wide-eyed, incapable of uttering a sound.
I heard the door open behind me, and as I glanced around, I saw Michael walk through the same doorway that we had entered. He smiled at us and said "Hi!". He came over and sat in the chair beside me and reached for Sharon's paper to sign it.
We shuffled along the back wall of the room, where each member of the Jackson 5 were sitting and got their signatures, one by one, on our paper, too shocked to speak.
I can't remember anything else from that night. I may well have gone into shock immediately after the experience, and my brain has blocked the rest out!
Sadly, sometime during my many moves to different houses in different states of Australia, my piece of Jackson 5 paper disappeared. I am certain, with all five signatures of the Jackson 5, it would have held quite some value these days, but alas, it is gone forever!
I have no proof to show for a night where one of my girlish dreams came true. Just some faded memories and a great little story to tell!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Lobster for Dinner?
Adoring Husband and Number One Son went fishing today. Adoring Husband has spent the last month working on his boat to make it practical and safe for travelling a good distance out to sea for fishing trips. Now that he is semi-retired, he plans on spending a lot of time golfing and fishing. I'm hoping he knows a lot of 'blokes' who like to fish, because I don't like going out past the mouth of the river. If we should get into trouble, I want a short swim to land, thank you very much!
So, very early this morning, Adoring Husband checked off the imaginary list in his head, hooked up the boat and headed off to the boat ramp.
Ten minutes later, he was back. He'd left the GPS at home on the kitchen bench. At the risk of being lectured about why he needed the GPS for this trip, I just want to remind you all how, for CENTURIES now, fishermen have been using the electronic GPS for finding good fishing spots, and how it is virtually impossible to fish without one! (I just know that I am going to be in trouble for that paragraph)
Relieved, and with GPS in hand, off they drove to commence said fishing trip.
I had a lovely morning. I pedalled down to the bakery for my first morning coffee in weeks and then met my lovely old boys at the boat ramp. Hugs all round and they gave me a warm welcome home. Being the proud grandmother, I showed off photos of my little Chicklet, and they made all the correct 'Ooohing' and 'Aaahing' noises.
Afterwards, it was off to the Bakery to meet the girls for morning tea. More welcoming hugs and more 'Ooohing' and 'Aaahing' over an hour of catching up with everyone's news.
A quick trip through the grocery store and off I pedalled home to do a little necessary housework, and you already know that I am a 'bare minimum' kind of gal. I then sorted through all the packages of beads and charms that had arrived while I was away. It was just like Christmas!
A phone call from Adoring Husband to let me know that they were ok and still fishing miles from nowhere. They'd caught a shark that tried to eat Number One Son's thong (the foot wearing thong, not the underwear type thong) and they had lost a lot of bait and equipment from big fish that, of course, got away. They DID take a photo of the shark, but the photo mysteriously disappeared from the phone before they got home.
The water police had also stopped them and checked all the safety gear on board, so Adoring Husband was relieved that he had spent so much time on getting it all up to scratch.
I had myself a nice quiet lunch, checked my emails and sorted through some of my jewellery making area, when Adoring Husband and Number One Son arrived home safe n sound.
No fish. Great fishing stories about the ones that got away! Emptied all the gear out of the boat, washed the boat, had showers (and boy did they need them!) and then sat down for a drink. Big plans for tomorrow's fishing trip and discussing when they will leave and where they might go, all the while turning redder and redder as the afternoon wore on.
Of course, no sunscreen had been taken. They had worn t-shirts, shorts and a cap. The biggest thing they caught was a very bad case of sunburn. Number One Son is literally limping because his legs are so badly burned. The good old Aloe Vera plant has had a good workout this afternoon and evening, that's for sure!
So now, tomorrow's trip has been canned because they don't want to make the sunburn any worse and we are going to the movies instead.
I am very grateful to have had such a lovely morning and part afternoon to do my 'thing' catching up with friends and then relaxing at home. It was a lovely way to spend my first day home and I'm looking forward to going to the movies tomorrow with my boys.
I might even give them a break from the lectures that I've been giving them (free of charge) about remembering to eat breakfast, drinking less alcohol and wearing sunscreen. I won't even mention Number One Son's terrible smoking habit! Just for one day. I'll recommence lectures on Thursday ***evil witch laugh***.
Not just one, but two lobsters for dinner tonight. A pair of sore and sorry lobster lads, who still won't have learned their lesson ... because after all, they ARE males!
So, very early this morning, Adoring Husband checked off the imaginary list in his head, hooked up the boat and headed off to the boat ramp.
Ten minutes later, he was back. He'd left the GPS at home on the kitchen bench. At the risk of being lectured about why he needed the GPS for this trip, I just want to remind you all how, for CENTURIES now, fishermen have been using the electronic GPS for finding good fishing spots, and how it is virtually impossible to fish without one! (I just know that I am going to be in trouble for that paragraph)
Relieved, and with GPS in hand, off they drove to commence said fishing trip.
I had a lovely morning. I pedalled down to the bakery for my first morning coffee in weeks and then met my lovely old boys at the boat ramp. Hugs all round and they gave me a warm welcome home. Being the proud grandmother, I showed off photos of my little Chicklet, and they made all the correct 'Ooohing' and 'Aaahing' noises.
Afterwards, it was off to the Bakery to meet the girls for morning tea. More welcoming hugs and more 'Ooohing' and 'Aaahing' over an hour of catching up with everyone's news.
A quick trip through the grocery store and off I pedalled home to do a little necessary housework, and you already know that I am a 'bare minimum' kind of gal. I then sorted through all the packages of beads and charms that had arrived while I was away. It was just like Christmas!
A phone call from Adoring Husband to let me know that they were ok and still fishing miles from nowhere. They'd caught a shark that tried to eat Number One Son's thong (the foot wearing thong, not the underwear type thong) and they had lost a lot of bait and equipment from big fish that, of course, got away. They DID take a photo of the shark, but the photo mysteriously disappeared from the phone before they got home.
The water police had also stopped them and checked all the safety gear on board, so Adoring Husband was relieved that he had spent so much time on getting it all up to scratch.
I had myself a nice quiet lunch, checked my emails and sorted through some of my jewellery making area, when Adoring Husband and Number One Son arrived home safe n sound.
No fish. Great fishing stories about the ones that got away! Emptied all the gear out of the boat, washed the boat, had showers (and boy did they need them!) and then sat down for a drink. Big plans for tomorrow's fishing trip and discussing when they will leave and where they might go, all the while turning redder and redder as the afternoon wore on.
Of course, no sunscreen had been taken. They had worn t-shirts, shorts and a cap. The biggest thing they caught was a very bad case of sunburn. Number One Son is literally limping because his legs are so badly burned. The good old Aloe Vera plant has had a good workout this afternoon and evening, that's for sure!
So now, tomorrow's trip has been canned because they don't want to make the sunburn any worse and we are going to the movies instead.
I am very grateful to have had such a lovely morning and part afternoon to do my 'thing' catching up with friends and then relaxing at home. It was a lovely way to spend my first day home and I'm looking forward to going to the movies tomorrow with my boys.
I might even give them a break from the lectures that I've been giving them (free of charge) about remembering to eat breakfast, drinking less alcohol and wearing sunscreen. I won't even mention Number One Son's terrible smoking habit! Just for one day. I'll recommence lectures on Thursday ***evil witch laugh***.
Not just one, but two lobsters for dinner tonight. A pair of sore and sorry lobster lads, who still won't have learned their lesson ... because after all, they ARE males!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Home Sweet Home
I woke up at 5.24 this morning, six minutes before my alarm would have woken me. I made myself a cup of tea, checked my emails and then spent an hour getting dressed and packing for my trip home from New Zealand.
Saying goodbye to Vegan Chickie, The Bare-chested Chef and Chicklet, was heart breaking and made me feel sooooo sad. I sat like a zombie waiting for the airline to make the boarding announcement and then tried desperately to fall asleep on the plane in the hope that the flight would go faster.
It worked because we landed in Oz thirty minutes earlier than scheduled, but it still felt like the longest flight EVER!
It took all of 20 minutes to pick up my luggage from the carousel and then get through Customs. Out I walked to find Adoring Husband rushing to greet me and obviously feeling a little emotional. How nice it was to feel his arms wrap around me and hear the joy in his voice as he welcomed me home!
I grabbed a take-away cappuccino and we wasted no time leaving the airport car park to make our way North to find Number One Son. He was waiting for us in Brisbane, so with help from GPS Jane, we found him at chosen rendezvous point and then headed for home.
We arrived home just after 4.30pm. Such a long, emotional day. The relief, as we pulled into the driveway, was immense, and the warm and fuzzy feeling that swept over me as Psychotic Dogs greeted me loudly when I came through the door was overwhelming.
A couple of hours later, sitting outside in the cool afternoon breeze, a steak on the barby for the boys, a few drinks and some catching up with Number One Son and all is right with the world.
I checked my emails after dinner to find a new photo of my lovely little sleeping Chicklet waiting for me and the tears welled again. I miss my NZ family so much and I hate that it will be so long til we see each other again, but, at the risk of sounding like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the thing is ....
Saying goodbye to Vegan Chickie, The Bare-chested Chef and Chicklet, was heart breaking and made me feel sooooo sad. I sat like a zombie waiting for the airline to make the boarding announcement and then tried desperately to fall asleep on the plane in the hope that the flight would go faster.
It worked because we landed in Oz thirty minutes earlier than scheduled, but it still felt like the longest flight EVER!
It took all of 20 minutes to pick up my luggage from the carousel and then get through Customs. Out I walked to find Adoring Husband rushing to greet me and obviously feeling a little emotional. How nice it was to feel his arms wrap around me and hear the joy in his voice as he welcomed me home!
I grabbed a take-away cappuccino and we wasted no time leaving the airport car park to make our way North to find Number One Son. He was waiting for us in Brisbane, so with help from GPS Jane, we found him at chosen rendezvous point and then headed for home.
We arrived home just after 4.30pm. Such a long, emotional day. The relief, as we pulled into the driveway, was immense, and the warm and fuzzy feeling that swept over me as Psychotic Dogs greeted me loudly when I came through the door was overwhelming.
A couple of hours later, sitting outside in the cool afternoon breeze, a steak on the barby for the boys, a few drinks and some catching up with Number One Son and all is right with the world.
I checked my emails after dinner to find a new photo of my lovely little sleeping Chicklet waiting for me and the tears welled again. I miss my NZ family so much and I hate that it will be so long til we see each other again, but, at the risk of sounding like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the thing is ....
***genuine sigh of contentment***
there is no place like home.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Hi, my name is Age Challenged rQQzy and I am a Twi-aholic.
Team Edward Forever!!
Along with my daughters and sister, I am, among millions of others, a HUGE Twilight fan!
I have read the books 3 times and seen the movies countless times and am currently, very impatiently, awaiting the release of the next movie in the series, 'Breaking Dawn' part 1, which isn't released until November this year.
I am a grown woman with few hormones remaining and enough life experience to control my hankerings for most things, other than chocolate and my morning coffee, and it is killing me having to wait so long for this new movie! How in heaven's name does a crazy, hormonal teenager do it??!!
My oldest daughter fell passionately in love with Edward (and I'm not going to explain the storyline or the characters because if you don't know about it by now, you never will, and you probably need to get out more!) a long time ago and would swoon and drool over him while reading the books over and over again. When she told me the storyline, I stated emphatically "Oh no, that doesn't sound like my kind of thing. It wouldn't interest me at all!"
She was so convinced that I WOULD be interested, that she sent me the first book in the series, 'Twilight', for Christmas about 2 years ago. She told me that I MUST read the book before seeing the movie.
Well, I didn't even start reading it til about March and I struggled to get through a couple of pages at a time, but I love my daughter, and because it was her favourite book, I pushed myself to finish it. It took me a couple of months to get half way through the book ... and then all of a sudden, I was hooked! Thank goodness, she had sent me the sequel, 'New Moon', for mother's day!
I began reading it voraciously and before I had finished it, demanded that Adoring Husband drive me 30 minutes to the nearest book store to buy the final 2 books in the series, 'Eclipse' and 'Breaking Dawn', because I knew that I just could NOT possibly WAIT to continue the story!
I am, and always will be, Team Edward. I could gush over my reasons, but only Twilight fans understand the Team Edward v Team Jacob war ... although I could easily be convinced in a Team sandwich (see photo below).
I sometimes, to Adoring Husband's genuine disgust, wear a big black t-shirt to bed that sports a beautiful portrait of Edward on the front. I have various other pieces of Twilight paraphernalia, which I would never wear in public, I own the three released dvds in the series and, as previously, stated am hankering for the next movie in the series to be released.
Should I also admit that I attended, with Adoring Husband in tow, the midnight screenings of 'New Moon' and 'Eclipse' along with hundreds of screaming teenagers at our local cinema?
I am very happy to be labelled a Twi-hard, but I would really appreciate NOT being called a Twi-mum, if that's ok. I watch the Twi-mums on TV and they make me a little bit embarrassed, bouncing up and down like teenagers and wearing the Twilight gear proudly like a badge of honour in front of international cameras for all the world to see! Really??!
I'll do that in the privacy of my own home and I'll bounce up and down in front of Adoring Husband and my kids ... that's embarrassing enough for them ... imagine what they would do if they saw me on a television screen doing that?!
So, anyway, that's my big confession. I'll probably do some heavy duty GUSHING in November after I've seen the next movie. You probably should prepare yourself because I do get a bit excited and it does take a few weeks to settle down after the event. I promise that I'll put a proclaimer at the beginning of my post that day!
Team Edward Forever!!
Team Sandwich ... maybe!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Are you a Troll?
Who remembers trolls? Those ugly little men with the big colourful (pink, green, orange) furry hair? You could buy them in all different sizes and even small ones with holes in their bottoms so that you could stick them on the end of your pencil or pen. They were pretty cool, in their time, but the fad didn't last very long.
Wasn't there also a fairytale about trolls under a bridge or something, who ate people who tried to cross the bridge??? My memory fails me.
Whatever ... trolls are ugly and supposedly nasty.
Recently I learned about a new phenomenon called 'Internet Trolls'. They, apparently, troll through the Internet looking for blogs, chat forums, Facebook comments etc., and attempt to stir up trouble by posting derogatory comments and trying to incite anger and arguments with their words.
I remember, about 8 years ago, registering with the games site 'Pogo'. You can play all sorts of different games for free, like Keno, Bingo, Hangman etc. Pretty innocent stuff really. Each games room had a little panel on one side where you could chat with the other players. I was quite addicted to this site, mostly because I had found it at a time when I was very unhappy with my life. I found other lonely people in there and formed nice cyber-friendships. They helped me through a tough period...but I digress...
Quite often, while in these games rooms, if we had a lively happy chat going on with a group, a stranger would suddenly appear and start trying to cause trouble. They would pinpoint one name in the group and start calling them names, or accuse them of having done something horrible like stealing from a friend or dealing drugs to children. Something that might make the rest of the group question the integrity of the person named.
Sometimes their ploy worked and it would make people very angry, but luckily, there was a 'report' button and we were able to have them ejected from the room fairly quickly.
I'm just not sure I understand the mindset of Internet Trolls, who are essentially, bullies. I don't understand bullies at all. I don't understand people who choose to BE unhappy or choose to make OTHER people unhappy.
I also don't understand people who take the bait. If you take the bait, aren't you satisfying the bully's desires? If somebody sends you a bullying text message, shouldn't you delete it and ignore it? Why would you take it one step further by responding to the message or trying to set a trap for the bully, or reacting in any way? Doesn't that just incite more bullying? Such wasted energy.
If you put your energy into creating a happy, peaceful life for the people who love you, for the people who you love, and for yourself, wouldn't the world be a happy place? Isn't that what everybody wants? To be happy?
I feel like bursting into song! ... What the world needs now, is love, sweet love. It's the only thing that there's just too little of...
So, if you are an Internet Troll, just as an experiment, would you, the next time you find a site to harass, consider just saying "Hullo!" and wishing everyone a happy day?
You might just make a friend or two along the way!
http://www.flayme.com/troll/
Friday, February 25, 2011
This is for you KG
After receiving a very kind comment about my blog today, I'm remembering with fondness, my year at Tafe in 1991.
After my marriage break-up in the mid 80s, I received income support from, what was then, Dept of Social Security, for about 4 years. I earned some extra pocket money with a bit of fruit picking, lettuce de-hearting, pumpkin chipping and carrot sorting. I also did some domestic and commercial cleaning.
As you can imagine, these were not the most stimulating of jobs, but I did meet some interesting international travellers out in the farm fields! After a couple of years cleaning other people's homes, I decided to change my life path, by learning a new skill. I was 30 yrs of age with no work experience, no goals and not much hope.
By the time I'd found my way to the Tafe College for enrolment, the only course that had any available positions, was the Cert III in Office Administration. I was not in the slightest bit interested in this, but I figured it was better than nothing, would help ease me into 'study mode' and would hopefully keep me motivated until I could get into something more interesting the following year.
I remember my first day as being one of the more frightening days of my life. I could not attend on day one of the course, as planned, because I'd had some minor (well, maybe halfway between minor and major) surgery done the week before and my recovery took longer than the doctor had predicted. I can't even remember how far into the first week, my first day was, but I was absolutely terrified!
When I got into the classroom and saw all of those young people, I wondered what the hell I was doing there, and almost talked myself into withdrawing from the class. They were all younger than 21, most of them just out of high school and they all knew each other before coming to the class. I felt like such an outsider!
Luckily for me, the teachers had organised some group activities for that first week, where everybody got to meet and interact with each other, and that's how I was drawn in and became one of the girls.
My beautiful girls. They were all at that awkward, uncertain age where they were having trouble with parents, or boys, or girlfriends or their casual job employers or somebody in their lives. I don't remember offering any life changing advice, but I do remember listening, and I think that's all they needed.
They were all so good to me and made me feel special. We shared some good times. Had some girl's nights out. Giggled often. I did chant my mantra a lot 'All men are bastards!'. (Sorry Granma) In our English lesson, we were given 10 words each week for which we had to find the definition and then put them into a sentence. I made sure all of my sentences were directly about men and my strong dislike for them!
For example (and I still have all of those sheets at home with my sentences on them!) one of the words was 'voodoo', so I wrote 'Every night before I go to sleep, I twist the pins in my male voodoo doll, hoping to cause pain in males all over the world'.
Even the teachers looked forward to my sentences and passed the sheets around to each other before returning them to me!
Anyway, now all of those girls have grown up and are, or are heading towards 40. They've been married and/or divorced and they have children of their own. When I go back to visit that town, sometimes, I'll bump into one of them in the street and it's always great to see them and relive memories and have a giggle.
That year turns out to be one of my favourite memories in my life. I came first in the class and finished with Distinction! That was another pleasant surprise!
So, KG, thank you for your lovely comments today and thank you for being a part of one of my best life experiences. You've come a long way and grown into a lovely young woman (yeah well you are still younger than me!) and I will always remember you fondly.
Oh ... and not ALL men are bastards. (But most are!)
After my marriage break-up in the mid 80s, I received income support from, what was then, Dept of Social Security, for about 4 years. I earned some extra pocket money with a bit of fruit picking, lettuce de-hearting, pumpkin chipping and carrot sorting. I also did some domestic and commercial cleaning.
As you can imagine, these were not the most stimulating of jobs, but I did meet some interesting international travellers out in the farm fields! After a couple of years cleaning other people's homes, I decided to change my life path, by learning a new skill. I was 30 yrs of age with no work experience, no goals and not much hope.
By the time I'd found my way to the Tafe College for enrolment, the only course that had any available positions, was the Cert III in Office Administration. I was not in the slightest bit interested in this, but I figured it was better than nothing, would help ease me into 'study mode' and would hopefully keep me motivated until I could get into something more interesting the following year.
I remember my first day as being one of the more frightening days of my life. I could not attend on day one of the course, as planned, because I'd had some minor (well, maybe halfway between minor and major) surgery done the week before and my recovery took longer than the doctor had predicted. I can't even remember how far into the first week, my first day was, but I was absolutely terrified!
When I got into the classroom and saw all of those young people, I wondered what the hell I was doing there, and almost talked myself into withdrawing from the class. They were all younger than 21, most of them just out of high school and they all knew each other before coming to the class. I felt like such an outsider!
Luckily for me, the teachers had organised some group activities for that first week, where everybody got to meet and interact with each other, and that's how I was drawn in and became one of the girls.
My beautiful girls. They were all at that awkward, uncertain age where they were having trouble with parents, or boys, or girlfriends or their casual job employers or somebody in their lives. I don't remember offering any life changing advice, but I do remember listening, and I think that's all they needed.
They were all so good to me and made me feel special. We shared some good times. Had some girl's nights out. Giggled often. I did chant my mantra a lot 'All men are bastards!'. (Sorry Granma) In our English lesson, we were given 10 words each week for which we had to find the definition and then put them into a sentence. I made sure all of my sentences were directly about men and my strong dislike for them!
For example (and I still have all of those sheets at home with my sentences on them!) one of the words was 'voodoo', so I wrote 'Every night before I go to sleep, I twist the pins in my male voodoo doll, hoping to cause pain in males all over the world'.
Even the teachers looked forward to my sentences and passed the sheets around to each other before returning them to me!
Anyway, now all of those girls have grown up and are, or are heading towards 40. They've been married and/or divorced and they have children of their own. When I go back to visit that town, sometimes, I'll bump into one of them in the street and it's always great to see them and relive memories and have a giggle.
That year turns out to be one of my favourite memories in my life. I came first in the class and finished with Distinction! That was another pleasant surprise!
So, KG, thank you for your lovely comments today and thank you for being a part of one of my best life experiences. You've come a long way and grown into a lovely young woman (yeah well you are still younger than me!) and I will always remember you fondly.
Oh ... and not ALL men are bastards. (But most are!)
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
The Roller Coaster of LIfe
Some people have such high expectations of themselves. Sometimes we think our families have much higher expectations of us than they really do. Sometimes we feel like we can never live up to theirs, or our own expectations, and as a consequence, we can make life choices in a panic.
At 17 years of age, I dropped out of school halfway through year 11. Within five months I'd convinced my parents to let me leave home and move into a unit with a girlfriend from school. Three months down the track, I was engaged to be married and pregnant with my first child. Within a year of leaving school, I was married with a baby.
My life seemed to be speeding out of control! Within six years I'd had four children and a dozen different addresses in two states. I felt like there was no way to take a breath and find some control. Life seemed to have taken control of me and I just went with the flow. The current got stronger and stronger and just before I was swept away to oblivion, I grabbed a branch and pulled myself free.
You would expect that by grabbing that branch, it would give me the opportunity to take stock of my life and re-evaluate. Make some hard decisions and set myself a new path to a great future.
Unfortunately, some of us, like me, have to learn the hard way. It took a few more years, but I did eventually take stock and make some better decisions for myself and my family. Even at the age of 50 I don't always get it right. I have a few regrets about the choices I made along the way, but I like the person who I have become, and I know that I have more lessons to learn yet.
Life is an adventure for us all. We make mistakes. We make bad choices. We fall down and we get back up again. Admittedly, some of us make more mistakes than others, but that's how we learn. That is, hopefully, how we become better human beings.
As long as we learn from our mistakes, every new path that we take, gets a little less bumpy. Every mistake that we make, builds our character and hopefully gives us empathy for others. It hopefully erases character flaws and gives us new character traits like empathy, sympathy, humility and tolerance.
I have spent the afternoon offering the above advice to two young people. One of them is less than 20 yrs of age and the other is less than 30, yet both consider themselves to be a failure already.
There are lots of inspirational quotes out there that hold value, but basically you can take the good with the bad, learn from your mistakes and enjoy the roller coaster of life!
"Drive into your future looking at the open road ahead rather than into the rear-view mirror of your past."
- Jonathan Lockwood Hule
"Any change, any loss, does not make us victims. Others can shake you, surprise you, disappoint you, but they can't prevent you from acting, from taking the situation you're presented with and moving on. No matter where you are in life, no matter what your situation, you can always do something. You always have a choice and the choice can be power."
- Blaine Lee
Old Japanese Proverb:
Fall seven times, stand up eight.
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life"
- Charles E Dederich
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Chicklet ROCKS!!
I'm a bit excited about the 2011 football season - Rugby League that is (thinking I may have lost some readers with my opening line and pretty sure that Vegan Chickie and Bare-chested Chef have already left the blog!)
This post was going to be about the 2011 Australian NRL season, but while I was writing it, I got to have a cuddle with my little Chicklet and the cuddle lasted for well over 4 hours!
She and I chatted for most of the first hour, about her Mum and Dad, about her hiccups, about the lake that we could view from the window, about her lovely knitted stripy tights and other such important subjects. She told me that my input was very important to her because now that she was getting older, she needed the extra stimulation to aid in her personal growth.
Then we spent about 20 minutes on some concentrated burping and farting. These are two of her most important duties during her day and if she doesn't focus properly on these tasks, it can have a detrimental effect on her evening hours.
By the end of this 20 minutes, little Chicklet was quite worn out! She was reluctant to go to sleep however, because she knows that her time with Bella Roz is very limited, so she desperately wants to squeeze in lots of quality time with intelligent conversation (and secretly, I think she enjoys my strong Aussie accent!).
She fought long and hard to keep her eyes open and she was quite successful for a good 20 minutes, but eventually, Mr Sandman won, her little eyelids closed heavily and she fell into a warm, snuggly, deep sleep.
Well, to my surprise, somewhere in the last 9 days, little Chicklet has developed the wonderful skill of talking in her sleep! Not JUST talking, but also singing, humming, moaning, groaning, buzzing, clicking, blowing raspberries, squeaking, huffing, puffing, whistling, snorting and sighing. She also has a fabulous facial expression to go with each sound that she makes!
At one stage, when I tried to have a conversation with Vegan Chickie, little Chicklet's humming got louder and louder. The louder I tried to speak over the top of her, the noisier her humming got! I'm thinking she wanted my full attention ... even in her sleep!
So, our sleeping conversation included subjects like NRL football, motor bikes, helping Dad cook dinner, snuggly cuddles, her extreme cuteness, synchronised farting and snorting, the rain on the roof and cowlicks.
It was my longest stint of Grandmotherhood yet and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy for hours on end!
In conclusion, my little Chicklet is the most intelligent and advanced 9 day old child in the universe. She is a strong forward thinker who will probably, one day, lead at least one country. She will be the saviour of the world by initiating world peace forever more and by bringing an end to world hunger. She will single-handedly save the world's environment and she will spread the word of 'LOVE' for all to practise and embrace with overwhelming enthusiasm.
I'm here to tell you that a 3 hour nap with Chicklet is one of the most entertaining experiences that you will ever have.
Chicklet ROCKS!!
This post was going to be about the 2011 Australian NRL season, but while I was writing it, I got to have a cuddle with my little Chicklet and the cuddle lasted for well over 4 hours!
She and I chatted for most of the first hour, about her Mum and Dad, about her hiccups, about the lake that we could view from the window, about her lovely knitted stripy tights and other such important subjects. She told me that my input was very important to her because now that she was getting older, she needed the extra stimulation to aid in her personal growth.
Then we spent about 20 minutes on some concentrated burping and farting. These are two of her most important duties during her day and if she doesn't focus properly on these tasks, it can have a detrimental effect on her evening hours.
By the end of this 20 minutes, little Chicklet was quite worn out! She was reluctant to go to sleep however, because she knows that her time with Bella Roz is very limited, so she desperately wants to squeeze in lots of quality time with intelligent conversation (and secretly, I think she enjoys my strong Aussie accent!).
She fought long and hard to keep her eyes open and she was quite successful for a good 20 minutes, but eventually, Mr Sandman won, her little eyelids closed heavily and she fell into a warm, snuggly, deep sleep.
Well, to my surprise, somewhere in the last 9 days, little Chicklet has developed the wonderful skill of talking in her sleep! Not JUST talking, but also singing, humming, moaning, groaning, buzzing, clicking, blowing raspberries, squeaking, huffing, puffing, whistling, snorting and sighing. She also has a fabulous facial expression to go with each sound that she makes!
At one stage, when I tried to have a conversation with Vegan Chickie, little Chicklet's humming got louder and louder. The louder I tried to speak over the top of her, the noisier her humming got! I'm thinking she wanted my full attention ... even in her sleep!
So, our sleeping conversation included subjects like NRL football, motor bikes, helping Dad cook dinner, snuggly cuddles, her extreme cuteness, synchronised farting and snorting, the rain on the roof and cowlicks.
It was my longest stint of Grandmotherhood yet and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy for hours on end!
In conclusion, my little Chicklet is the most intelligent and advanced 9 day old child in the universe. She is a strong forward thinker who will probably, one day, lead at least one country. She will be the saviour of the world by initiating world peace forever more and by bringing an end to world hunger. She will single-handedly save the world's environment and she will spread the word of 'LOVE' for all to practise and embrace with overwhelming enthusiasm.
I'm here to tell you that a 3 hour nap with Chicklet is one of the most entertaining experiences that you will ever have.
Chicklet ROCKS!!
Monday, February 21, 2011
Seven sleeps and counting
Well, my junk food day did not agree with me at all! It was fun while it lasted, but then I got a headache from eating too much chocolate and potato chips and ice cream. Because I don't take pain killers, I went to bed to sleep it off and lost pretty much all of Sunday. It wasn't fun at all. I've learnt my lesson the hard way!
Today I am feeling much better. The Bare-chested Chef gave Chicklet her first bath today and she loved it! She kicked her feet in the water and looked up at her Dad with those big trusting eyes and enjoyed every moment of it. She got a bit annoyed at the 'getting dressed' part, but settled very quickly once she had her clothes on.
Then I got to cuddle her for a long time. The best part (and I've been told often over the years that this was the best part) was when she got hungry, squirmy and a bit noisy in my arms, I was able to hand her back to Mum! Yay!
I have just 7 more sleeps here with my new little family. I have loved every second of it. I got a whole 9 days with my Vegan Chickie while The Bare-chested Chef worked and Chicklet had not yet entered the world.
I got to share in the birthing experience of my first grandchild, which was almost as amazing as giving birth to my own children, and now I get to spend the last 2 weeks watching how the new family work together to create a new harmony in the home.
The Bare-chested Chef has taken on the role of Father and Husband with gusto and Vegan Chickie is pushing through the pain and discomfort of healing stitches, painful hips and bleeding nipples with persistence and inner strength while keeping a smile on her face and love in her heart.
All of us with children, know how immense the changes are when the first new baby comes into our lives. It doesn't matter how much we learn leading up the birth of our child, every day after is still an education.
The transition period going from a married couple to a family of 3 and learning to cope with the demands of a new baby is an interesting one. The broken sleep, the constant feeding, the continuous washing, the sacrifices we make with our time. It doesn't matter how smoothly it goes, it still creates a huge mental, emotional and physical drain on our whole being.
This family has shared the load incredibly well, so the transition period, so far, has been pretty smooth. I haven't even been needed, except for maybe a little moral support during the 'third day blues'.
I feel confident about going back home to Australia (God! It's a whole other country!) and I know that this family is going to thrive. They have a good support system around them (New Zealand supports it's new mothers a whole lot better than Australia does, that's for sure!) and help is just a personal phone call away.
For now, I have to get as many cuddles with Chicklet as possible, prepare myself for the break and the looming 'separation anxiety' that will follow **sad face**.
Thank goodness I have open arms awaiting my arrival home in the form of Adoring Husband, Burrum girlfriends, my old local boys, psychotic dogs and the lovely laying chookies. **happy face**
Adoring Husband has already started the countdown.
Today I am feeling much better. The Bare-chested Chef gave Chicklet her first bath today and she loved it! She kicked her feet in the water and looked up at her Dad with those big trusting eyes and enjoyed every moment of it. She got a bit annoyed at the 'getting dressed' part, but settled very quickly once she had her clothes on.
Then I got to cuddle her for a long time. The best part (and I've been told often over the years that this was the best part) was when she got hungry, squirmy and a bit noisy in my arms, I was able to hand her back to Mum! Yay!
I have just 7 more sleeps here with my new little family. I have loved every second of it. I got a whole 9 days with my Vegan Chickie while The Bare-chested Chef worked and Chicklet had not yet entered the world.
I got to share in the birthing experience of my first grandchild, which was almost as amazing as giving birth to my own children, and now I get to spend the last 2 weeks watching how the new family work together to create a new harmony in the home.
The Bare-chested Chef has taken on the role of Father and Husband with gusto and Vegan Chickie is pushing through the pain and discomfort of healing stitches, painful hips and bleeding nipples with persistence and inner strength while keeping a smile on her face and love in her heart.
All of us with children, know how immense the changes are when the first new baby comes into our lives. It doesn't matter how much we learn leading up the birth of our child, every day after is still an education.
The transition period going from a married couple to a family of 3 and learning to cope with the demands of a new baby is an interesting one. The broken sleep, the constant feeding, the continuous washing, the sacrifices we make with our time. It doesn't matter how smoothly it goes, it still creates a huge mental, emotional and physical drain on our whole being.
This family has shared the load incredibly well, so the transition period, so far, has been pretty smooth. I haven't even been needed, except for maybe a little moral support during the 'third day blues'.
I feel confident about going back home to Australia (God! It's a whole other country!) and I know that this family is going to thrive. They have a good support system around them (New Zealand supports it's new mothers a whole lot better than Australia does, that's for sure!) and help is just a personal phone call away.
For now, I have to get as many cuddles with Chicklet as possible, prepare myself for the break and the looming 'separation anxiety' that will follow **sad face**.
Thank goodness I have open arms awaiting my arrival home in the form of Adoring Husband, Burrum girlfriends, my old local boys, psychotic dogs and the lovely laying chookies. **happy face**
Adoring Husband has already started the countdown.
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