Fourth Australian Must Do

Go to the beach. In Australia are miles and miles of the most divine beaches. In fact, that must be one of the most popular things to do in Summer. Going to the beach to surf, to fish, to sunbake, to play beach volley ball, to people watch, to read and relax and to enjoy. This picture is my local beach. The beach huts are owned by residents of Brighton but can also be purchased separately for large amounts of money. They are very iconic and at one stage they were being pulled down or left to fade way and disappear with the ravages of salt air and neglect. Now they are treasured. They can only be used as bathing boxes and not to live in. People paint them in the loveliest colours.

In Queensland is a place called Bribie Island and the sand squeaks when you walk on it. As a child I found that very amusing to run around and make the sand squeak with my bare feet.

You can lose yourself at the beach. Be a child again. Listen to the water. Lie in the warm sun and catch snippets of people's conversations as you drift in and out of sleepy land. Just remember to put loads of sunscreen on. In Australia is the highest rate of melanoma cancer in the world.

This is my memory of the beach now and always.

Linda and her Surroundings: The Perpetuity of the Beach

For others it is about holidays, first love, childhood, zinc cream, sandy feet, icecream, seagulls and all the things that find a place in the most peaceful place within us.

I could not live too far from the sandy shores. Whenever we can, S and I will go to the beach and sit for a few hours and enjoy the quiet. Sometimes K comes along but is not so inclined to sit outside when it is too hot.

I love the beach.

Ciao

LC

Today

Today I left work early just for the heck of it. Well, not just that. My boss mentioned he was going out for lunch and that I would be lonely in the office on my own. Not that I minded but, to tell you the truth, I really wanted to go. So I did.

My car found its way to the big shop called DFO which is Direct Factory Outlets where there are lots of stores selling their wares at discounted prices. Which really means they will only make 100% profit on everything as opposed to 400%.

Well, I finally found a suitcase. I like to bond with things that I buy. Have a moment of connection, a thrill when my eyes meet its - um - form? I just know when something is for me. I feel it in my stomach. And that is how I felt when I saw the suitcase. In fact, the previous day I had quickly stopped by and seen it and ignored that initial attraction. Perhaps I was tired or something although not too tired to buy a pair of jeans and four tops (on special!!!). But last night in bed, before my eyes closed and I snuggled down into the bed linen the image of the camel coloured case with all its little zippy and pockety things drifted into my head and went with me into dream land.

So, today I drove straight to DFO and then made my way to the luggage store and there it was - the suitcase in the window, opened up and exposing all its little nooks and crannies to me. I knew it was waiting for me to inspect it. And inspect it I did. Opened every pocket that could be opened, unzipped and zipped all the zips, wheeled it around, read the label and got a bit excited at the 15 year warranty and the 50% off price. "I'll take it" I told the girl. She then got a new and untouched one for me (yeah, like I am not buying something that other people have fiddled with thank you) from out the back and I left there with my new case being wheeled behind me. It even came with its own combination lock. And the camel (NOT beige) colour will match all of my clothes which is important.

I hope it is big enough....because I surely know how to fill a suitcase when on holiday!

Ciao

LC

Leg Magic

I bought one.

On Ebay.

One third of the cost that was advertised on television.

Normally I would not confess to such a crime but since I am a person who actually uses such silly things I don't mind.

I used it.

It hurts and makes me look silly whilst partaking in the activity. The movement of using it is not quite as fluid as is suggested on daytime television (which I normally don't watch but was home one day and saw it blah blah yeah yeah)

All in the pursuit of lean and strong legs and pert buttocks. So, so sad indeed. Being over forty and pert are not two things that really go together.

And it folds away and fits under the bed! That was a selling point. It has to fit under the bed.

Excuse me whilst I put it away - under the bed.

Ciao

LC

Meat Pie, Footy and Beer - 3 very Aussie Experiences

In response to the encouraging Meme from http://grahamettridge.blogspot.com/m/ to list ten Australian experiences and, over the next week or two intend to think of what I consider to be ten very culturally Australian "things".

Now for me, this is not as easy as it seems as I am a first generation Australian. My parents are from Denmark and I was brought up as such. In the 1960's you just cannot imagine what an outsider that made my family. The term Wog and Refuge was used often. The food I had a school was stinky and weird, my mum dressed me long pants which was outrageous and, this is the worst, she forgot to tell me that in Australia the "F" word was not okay so I did get into trouble for saying it in prep more than once. It was difficult to fit in but we all just did what we did.

Since it is the season, I have to say the the biggest Aussie attraction is Footy. Or should I say, Australian Rules Football. It starts in March and involves kicking an oval shaped ball around and giant field trying to get a goal between two posts. Lots of jumper stretching (aka tackling) and jumping up high to catch the ball (know as a mark). Sixteen football teams play against each other until two teams fight it out in a Grand Final Match one September Saturday at the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground) which is almost revered here. People are generally one eyed supporters and talk about it ALL the time. Personally I hate footy and the very male and blokey culture that seems to go with it. The football players are well know for recreational drug use (which they always deny until really found out) and treating women very poorly (sex objects etc). On the day of the Grand Final the shops are empty, the roads are silent and many stores CLOSE in the afternoon. If you walk down the street you hear the sound of the football match drifting out from televisions in houses that you pass. The smell of BBQ's fills the air as people gather together to watch "the game".

If you go to the footy you can bet you will be either painted in your teams colours or dressed or, unfortunately for those who watch, both painted and dressed. Lots of words like "On Ya" and "Yeah" and "Go the Hawks" or "Go the Saints" are heard screeched out from the crowd. The food which is in plentiful supply at great cost is mostly the "Aussie Meat Pie" and the drink of the day is a "beer" and lots of it to ensure that the worst type of behaviour will be on display by the end of the match. People have been known to be so into the game that they will have a pee in the stands rather than miss one precious moment of the game. The meat pie has to be able to be eaten with one hand to enable the other hand to be free for holding a can of beer.

The following Monday will involve lots of detailed talking about the how the teams fared over the weekend and many "experts" will blab incessantly about it around the office kitchen. Then the latter half of the week is spent trying to predict which teams will win on the weekend which brings me to Footy Tipping. This is when loads of people in an office environment try to correctly guess as many wins as they can over the football season. The prize being something like a slab of beer or a meat tray. Interestingly enough, for someone who does not like football, I am second best at footy tipping this year out of 18 people.

Hey, don't get me wrong, footy is good fun in one way and to go to at least one match is something to try. But, you either love it or hate it and those that love it hate those that hate it - if you get my drift. But there is nothing more Australian than a meat pie, a cold beer and a game of footy.

On Ya!

Ciao

LC

Friday 31st August

Today S walked to school on his own for the first time. I walked him to the busy road and crossed with him and then said good bye and watched his lone form walk up the road towards his school.

He had asked me a few times if he could walk on his own and I had said no. I wasn't ready. Then yesterday he asked me again and suggested I could walk him over the busy road if I was worried. I still said no. Then afterwards I thought about it, talked about and wondered if perhaps I was not being fair. So I rang him back and said okay, he could do it.

After dropping him off I walked back home, got in my car and just did a little drive by to check he was on track. There he was, bag on his back, walking along almost to school. I tooted the horn and waved. He waved back and as I drove off I could see him looking away and watching the world around him. I was forgotten for that moment and he was in a place of his own where a mother really does not belong.

Growing up is hard for parents. Children move on, feel the need to break away and to take new steps. As a mother I suppose at times I struggle with it but his need for freedom far outweighs my need to keep him close.

I wonder if he will feel the need to make his bed, do his own washing and take out the rubbish bin soon.

Ciao
LC

Music Lesson

Today I took S to have his piano lesson. He hates piano because he would rather play Runescape online or watch television. I am not negotiable about piano for a couple of reasons. Firstly, he is naturally musical and piano comes easy to him. Secondly, I think all children need to do one thing they hate on a regular basis to condition them to the life of being an adult. Perhaps I will rephrase that. We all have to learn to do the hard work to get the good results. Computer games and television shows are very quick with providing a child (and adult) with a quick fix and not much effort has to go into partaking in them - although some may say computer games are challenging. I need S to see that if he puts in the effort, the personal reward is very satisfying. He has stopped whinging about piano after I told him to get over it.

So, today I am sitting in that room where he goes to have lessons, watching the dust drift through the bright sunshine streaming through the windows and I bend down to fiddle with my shoelace and notice, out of the corner of my eye, a little white origami swan sitting beside the leg of the couch I am perched upon. It is only about 3/4 of an inch high. I pick it up and look at the effort that has done into making it and decide to keep it, which was naughty, but I figured it was going to be swept up by the piano teacher later on.

It made me realise that another parent had sat in that same spot and was possibly as bored as I was.

It is now sitting on my desk at home.

Ciao

LC

Happy Dog

Here is a picture of Jesse our resident dog at work. She is getting old now (for a Bull Mastiff) - about 7.5 years and terribly friendly which can be a problem as she weighs in at about 70kgs so an enthusiatic dog wiggle can knock you over. And it is best to steer clear of her after she has had a drink of water - major slag event. You have no idea how long a string of saliva can get when hanging off a very droopy dog face. Plus they hang in multiples - so disgustingly funny but we do clean her up out of kindness.

I love her saggy face and the fact that she howls when I come into work (not just me actually but I can pretend she loves me). She has weeties for breakfast and sometimes the residue sits on her big, black nose all day - I want to be that unconcerned one day. Oh, I might be when I get older but it won't be so cute then.

One thing though, I am so glad I do not have to do poo patrol after her - she aint that cute.

Ciao

LC

Guilt Twaddle

I am inclined to feel guilty about anything and everything.

Having a shower longer than 4 minutes in these days of water restrictions - guilty

If I throw something that could be recycled into the general rubbish bin - guilty

Toss some food out because it is not eaten - "what a dreadful waste: guilty.

Take a holiday - feel guilty.

Eat something sweet - double guilt.

Miss more than two days exercise - super guilt.

Send S to school with a non home made biscuit or cake in his lunchbox - bad mother guilt.

Have the ducted heating on 21c - eco vandal guilt.

Only breast fed for 6 weeks - bad, bad mother "took me ten years to get over the shame of it" guilt especially when all the mother's in my group were Earth Mother's who breastfed for three years.

Had a C-section when I had a baby because I had a choice and was scared - lazy and bad mother guilt.

Only had one child (no matter the medical reasons and the fact I have him is a miracle indeed) - did not try hard enough guilt and now your child will be lonely guilt (like, children with siblings are never lonely as adults)

Broke stupid Telly Tubby PC CD in half because it had a scratch on it (and I hated the sound of it after hearing it 300 times) - bad mother "how could you" and "I have never gotten over it mum" guilt - 7 years later

Tipping a glass of water over S when he really, really pissed me off - bitch mum guilt but I still think he deserved it.

Spend the whole day to myself doing what I want (shopping for clothes, books etc) - secret pleasure guilty which isn't really that bad.

Sitting here doing this when I know I have to tackle the stupid laundry crap - hmmm, nope, can't seem to conjure up much guilt about that one.

Ciao

LC

Holiday's and Luggage

Every time I go on a holiday of sorts I feel compelled to buy some sort of luggage. It may be a new wet pack or a new make up bag or even a new suitcase. Next week we are going for four days to Noosa and I really do need a new suitcase, the old one having disemboweled itself on the last holiday due to being over packed. Plus S needs a new suitcase as his is a little bit babyish now he is older. So that means I need to make a decision on two cases.

So I go to the shop that sells every conceivable type of bag you can imagine and I can feel a level of anxiety arising that happens whenever I shop for anything. Do I go for the hard case, the soft duffle type case on wheels, the kind of in between soft and hard, do I need matching cabin bag, should I get the pink because I love pink or the black because it is practical and the pink might look twee and am I too old to look twee? Do I get a make up case to match? Is the case big enough or should I get one too big so I can fill it when I go back home? Is that handle strong enough to pull it along? Should I buy locks to go with it? How much should I spend? Should I buy top of the range which has a 15 year warranty but then means I feel guilty every time I want to buy another bag? Or buy cheap but okay quality and then feel like an eco vandal when it dies and I chuck it out? So I hang around the shop for about 45 minutes feeling each case, then taking it for a wheel around, the opening all the zips, then looking inside them, then thinking that I may be able to get it cheaper somewhere else, then seeing what matches, then getting the feeling that I should buy things in three for some reason or four to even things up (wet pack, make up, cabin bag, suitcase) and then I start to feel so overwhelmed I have to leave the shop and have a coffee and then go home.

Then I feel shallow for even worrying about my luggage because on a scale of 1 to 10 it of things worth getting anxious about it really should not rate at all.

Hmmmm, maybe I can buy something up there?

Need a cup of tea.

Ciao

LC

Laundry Twaddle

Apparantly when planes come in to land they may go round and round in a landing pattern until there is room for them. A safety thing.

My washing has a landing pattern.

It sits on the floor during the week because the washbasket in the bedroom is full.

That basket is full because due to the fact I have not been able to empty the wash basket in the laundry.

I have been unable to empty that basket as the washing machine seems to have a constant load in it waiting to be emptied.

However, I am unable to empty the machine due to the fact the clothes horse is loaded up (making my dining room look like a chinese laundry) and still has wet/damp articles of clothing hanging on it. Unfortunately I have been unable to hang anything outside since K restrung the clothes line and now if I hang anything on it heavier than a shirt it hangs down to the ground...which would mean clothes getting dirty again, which means more washing etc etc. The spring loaded mechanism has broken in the clothes line which means I have to go and spend more money for a new clothes line.

But even when what is hanging on the clothes horse dries it hangs there longer because the ironing basket is full and there is a limit to how high I can pile it before it tips over. So I do some ironing and then unload the clothes horse, then load it up with more washing and so on and so forth.

Great.

Ciao

LC

Fart Twaddle

In our house farting is allowed. Well, allowed implies that a discussion entailed prior to the event. So, let me say that farting is a fact of life and it is just one of those things. Either you do or you don't.

But, S has created this "thing" that has to happen when someone farts. One has to say "Safety" then "Badger (then whistle), three times no pokes". If one does not say that then the other person says "Doorknob" and proceeds to punch the farter until the "Code Words" are said.

It is most annoying. And I don't know why I feel compelled to write about it. But, seeing the words in front of me makes me realise how hideously STUPID it is.

Ho hum indeed.

Ciao

LC

Friday Twaddle

When I look at other people's blogs/writings I get enormous pleasure out of even the most mundane blabs.

In a world of hyper professionalism in journalism it is nice to read the spontaneous musings of a person who just leads what appears to be a normal life. It proves that way beyond all the hype of Idol, Big Brother, Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here and other similar low grade shows, there are people who really just are not interested in their 15 minutes of fame. There are people who just want to write and chat and communicate in a world that sometimes appears to be very contrived.

For someone who may be shy or perhaps not a great networker, the internet is a great place to express yourself. In looking for like minded people who perhaps who share interests that are out of the "normal" box, the internet provides so much satisfaction. Coming across people who have a talent for writing or something with an artistic slant always makes blogging just so much more than a whole lot of online diaries begging to be read. Blogs are a great way for people with heads full of stuff to unload and allow more thoughts to come rushing through.

In the Saturday newspaper I read there is a section where well known authors write about their observations on life and relationships. Now sometimes they are good, but sometimes, when people become very popular they are occassionally inclined to become a bit too good - if you know what I mean. Too slick, too professional, too predictable. Sort of like having the same old movie star appear in movie after movie (Nicole Kidman!!!) and you hanker for something natural and fresh. Something unspoilt before popularity takes hold. Someone who is still within themselves and unafraid to make a mistake.

So, that is why I like reading blogs - there is always something fresh to be exposed to (good or bad).

I suppose I should do something - not sure what but I will think of it soon.

Ciao

LC

Linda Growing Up

Baking

I really must make a few small comments about baking cakes.

Firstly, it is most annoying to plan on making something with chocolate chips in it only to discover that S and K have, out of desperation, eaten two 250gm bags of cooking chocolate.

Also, when I bake cup cakes two things happen. The first being that in two days S and K will eat 20 of them. The second is that S thinks it is fine to leave the paper cup thingy lying around so I get this happening.

Might make an upside down apple tea cake tonight. At least there are only crumbs left around the place.

Also have to hide the choc chips in a better place.

Ciao

LC

Two Little Things of Mine

This is a picture of two of my many favorite things - if you can have many favorites that is.

One is a little fabric covered box with a whole lot of small buttons in it. I bought this when I was ten at a school fair/fete. I remember the excitement of finding it and counted out the buttons when I got home. It has been with me 33 years now and I noticed that when I bought the box I wrote down that there were 33 buttons in it. Originally the box would have held collar studs so I imagine it has been around a while - can't say I have actually ever seen a collar stud myself.

The second item is a tiny Noah's Ark set up. These teeny pieces are made of pewter and hand painted. I bought them in 1994 in England at Covent Garden on a sunny day. The shop was small and full of these little hand made things which were terribly pricey but oh so delicious. It is quite heavy despite the small size.

Both the items are sitting on a VCR box so you can get an idea of the size.

They are both so personal to me and represent a time when I was conciously happy and not just exisiting in a space somewhere.

Ciao

LC

Honey

I love honey. Eat it every day. Different types of honey also. Creamed honey or runny honey.

Love the ways bees make honey. Find the pollen, pack it in their bees knees and then fly back to the hive to do a groovy figure 8 dance to tell the other bees where to find the source of sweet pollen. I mean, it is amazing stuff.

Recently I saw a honey product that said it was spreadable as opposed to runny.

So I bought it. Spread it on my toast - it was very sweet so I looked at the ingredients and they were honey, sugar and pectin.

Sugar with honey. No wonder it was sweet. And it has to be kept in the fridge - so I tossed it out. Not right having sugar and honey in the one jar - somehow seems to fly in the face of decency for all those bees that danced for me to have pure honey in my cupboard.

Go you bees!!! Only honey for this honey!!!

Ciao

LC

Timewasting at Work

Sometimes we all have moments of wasting time at work and hopefully we all make it up somehow or another.

However, there is a type of time wasting we do which is a bit naughty and that is going on the internet more than we should.

So, there is a little thing you can download free from the internet which enables you to check just how much time you spend on the internet and how much it costs your boss.

Here is the link:

www.websiterepairs.net/notworking.php

It sits as a little screen on the desk top and each time you stop work/housework etc, you click on the timer and it times you until you then click it off again.

A bit of fun but also interesting to see that maybe you are not as bad as you think - or worse perhaps???

By the way - I never have lunch breaks so it justifies the fact I just wrote this post at work!

Ciao

LC

Vitamin Tablets

Just bought some different Swiss Formula Women's multi vitamins.

They are so huge I am unsure if I am meant to swallow them.......or something else.

Maybe I ordered them from a Vet supply by accident and they are for a HORSE.

I had to break them in half before I could take them.

They better be good because my gag reflex is working overtime to get them down.

Hmmmm

Ciao

LC

Chillies

Tonight I cooked myself a vege stir fry in which I tossed a chopped up fresh red hot chilli - a great big one.

Then, without thinking, rubbed my face, my eyes and nose with chilli covered fingers and my eyes are still smarting and puffy three hours later.

Also, so much chilli in the stir fry that it made my mouth and tongue puff up like I had a dose of collagen. Even S looked at me and said "what happened to your lips".

Stomach is not happy.

Am now worried about what is going to happen on the exit journey if that is what happened on entry.

Shouldn't really share that thought - but it is quite funny in an ouch kind of way.

Ciao

LC

Shamefully Shallow Blab

I look up the most tragic stuff on the internet when I am bored and just do not feel like reading a book or doing something "creative". I just wanna fill my head with twaddle.

Sooooo, I look up the stats of celebrities. Yes, I am ashamed to admit this - I google things like Angelina Jolie's figure statistics to see how thin she is. And Elle McPherson's, Cindy Crawford, Christie Brinkley etc etc. I want to know how much thinner they are than me.

It is a very childish thing to do I know, but I do it anyway. My guilty little secret - which I have decided to share.

Does anyone else do such silly things? What are some of the stupid things other people search for.

Hmmmm

Ciao
LC

Work Blab

I work for a builder who specialises in constructing architecturally designed homes. I use the word "homes" loosely as the work we do is hardly homely. But that is personal opinion only as I tend to prefer older houses. However, I do appreciate the urge that an architect may have to put his/her spot on the world (or blot if you look at some of the things we have done). Regardless of whether or not I like it, there is a level of creativity that must be respected.

Here is a photo of one "home" we have been in the process of building. It is a long process from initial contact with an architect and client to the actual commencement of construction. Lots of discussions about cost and how to get it down. Architects always, and I mean always, design something that is way above the budget of what the client has put forth. We then have to do lots of changes to keep everyone happy.

The architects we deal with are generally high end ones. People will spend $2000.00 on a toilet and have three of those toilets in the house. They will spend $30K on kitchen appliances. Big fridges, huge ovens, giant hotplates and even teppanyaki plates - if I am eating teppanyaki I am going out! Smooth sinks with all sorts of extras attached, professional taps that you would normally see in an hotel, stone bench tops and joinery with every conceivable thing that opens and shuts. Wine fridges, coffee machines, built in steamers and three different types of rubbish bins that hide in the joinery. They will have a pantry the size of my bathroom.

Children's bedrooms are far, far away from the parental lair. Each room will have a plasma television, computer points, en suite and huge walk in robe. Four car underground garage, built in pool and landscaping that would take me ten years to achieve. Lots of things on show to tell the world they have made it.

Many years ago I used to think I would never pay to use an architect should I have the desire to build my own house. But now I think that if you can afford it, having an architect is a good thing. If you can find one who designs what you like and if you can then build a good relationship with them it makes for a great buffer between you and the builder when things happen. And believe me, things will happen. A good architect should be able to take your ideas and merge them with his/her knowledge of design and come up with something very exciting. They know where to source the most amazing bathroom and kitchen ware, tiles, carpets and colours you would perhaps never have known existed. All of this comes at a cost - and usually much bigger than you thought. We have often shaved the cost of an estimation down to get a job by taking out lots of these tempting extras, only to find the client puts them all back in anyway - when someone really wants something, they will always find a way to get it.

My job at work is to make sure the money comes in. I have as little contact with the client as possible as generally they can be very high maintenance and I find it hard not to raise my eyebrows if one asks me to comment on their choice of beige or white tile. I just work like a little cog in the wheel making sure things work, money goes in and out, wages get paid, tax gets paid, payroll tax is done, superannuation, workcover and all those other things that make the world go around, well I just make sure it happens. My boss trusts me totally to get it done and has the great attitude of "hiring other people to worry" so he can get out and find more work.

The best thing is, I have a coffee machine at work and can make a great double shot skinny latte the moment I arrive to start the day.

And that is pretty good stuff.

Ciao

LC

Monopoly

I know I have mentioned Monopoly before but I need to again.

Today, S asked me to play Monopoly and I said "yeah, why not".

Once again the whole aim of the game for him was to buy Mayfair, put four houses on it and then one hotel so I would have to land on it and pay $2000.

Well, what do you think - I buy every other property I can and snigger each time he lands on one and has to pay a measly $10.

Then I landed on Mayfair, had to mortgage everything to pay him the $2000.

Game over.

Hmmm.

Ciao

LC

Reading

Whilst I do read loads of magazines I also read a lot of books.

Currently I am reading Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. This is a favorite of mine. I like the intensity of it, the emotional movement, the sense of regrets and longing and the depressive tone of the story. And that it all happens in one day is interesting to me. To break down a persons day in that fantastic detail says so much about what it is to be human on a daily basis. Some people just move through the day whilst others crash through whilst they navigate their head space.

One character that is intertwined with Clarissa is Septimus Warren Smith who is a shell shocked war hero struggling in a world of chaos - suffering greatly with his depression.

Having experienced different grades of depression throughout my life, there is a small sentence in the novel that really says it all for me. It is something like "The world has raised its whip; where shall it descend?". It describes the look of chaos and apprehension that was with Septimus. It reminded me of times when I have been in that fearful frame of mind and still had to conduct life. There was always that feeling of the world being a noisy and angry place looking around for places to strike. It does not mean self-pity or sadness within - it is a fear within, a lack of understanding and comprehension.

The world has raised its whip; where shall it descend? Only a person who had been through it could come up with that sentence.

Obviously there is so much more to the novel than just that sentence - but I just think the expression is very well worded.

Back to work for me - being a bit slack today.

Ciao

LC

Insecurities and Magazines

I like to buy magazines. Marie Claire, Woman's Weekly, Gardening Mags etc. I like to read trashy mags when getting my hair done - reading about celeb's and the things they do.

Anyway, tonight I bought this magazine called Notebook and, of all the crappy magazines I read, this one has somehow managed to make me feel like the most inefficient in all areas of my life. I am actually a bit depressed after reading it. When I write down why, surely it will make me change my mind. And here is why:

It bangs on about how to make one's house gorgeous. Fabulous flowers in the rooms. Big bunches of lovely roses that burst open like a big puffy cloud - white and begging to bury one's face into. Polished and shiny dust free floorboards on which shabby chic furniture is placed. Then, on that fab piece of furniture (for which instructions on how to give it a fashionably distressed look are also attached) one would place wonderful photos of one's beautiful family. Black and white photos of course - no common colour pics on display in this house!

Then amazing and easy (huh?) recipes that one just whips up when one comes home from work. Things like "Pork and cabbage gyozas" and "Duck with apple cider red cabbage". Great little recipes on making all sorts of home made goodies to give as gifts presented in the most wonderful little jars that have hand written labels tied on with raffia ribbon. Delicious toffees with little sprinkles that nestle in little pink paper patties that one can glue paper stars onto to "stand out". I cannot begin to tell you my experience with making toffee - I ended up with some in my hair and had to cut it out.

The furniture is beige, beige couches with throws tossed nonchalantly across the back. Cushions plumped up like big fat hens just defying to be sat on. Beige carpet!! Yes, beige carpet on which a freshly laundered Samoyed dog sits looking - well - very clean. Great pictures adorn the walls - paintings done by the amazing woman who happens to have four children, runs a successful business from home, keeps the place spotless and has a vegetable garden where she gets her herbs from and is a size tiny. She wears great linen pants that are BEIGE and has a Theodore and Scanlan white t-shirt. Her children all help in the garden and wear little gum boots with painted flowers on them.

The beauty section just ensures I feel UGLY with the smooth skinned airbrushed translucent women. In fact, I cannot be bothered going into detail as it just repeats itself in every magazine a woman will read.

So, I had this feeling I just do not try hard enough. And yet another feeling I don't feel I should have to. I mean, after 40 one does not do "shoulds". Now, I know that the magazine has an agenda - it wants me to feel that I want to be that perfect and go about and buy the things it advertises or suggests so I can achieve the perfection it so heavily promotes. And I know that and accept that is part of the cycle of life now. But despite that knowledge I still mange to feel a bit inadequate because I don't come up to scratch in my own head.

There is a lot to be said for reading comics.

Now that is how life should be!

Ciao
LC

Travels and Family

When I was younger my father had a notion that he would buy a caravan park and live in Queensland. I was actually ten years old so it must have been 1973. By that age I was at my second primary school and well on the way to being a complete outsider. We sold the house we lived in, bought a huge caravan and made the long journey from Melbourne to Queensland.


My dad must have had a thought in his mind of what a man should be. He drove a big, blue Chevy Impala. All four of the children could fit in the back seat. My memories of that big car are of embarrasment, nauseau and the smell of orange peel. Each time I sat in the back seat of that I remember the urge to vomit was always there.


Anyway, this big car was attached to a 28ft caravan and we travelled the journey over a few weeks. My brother had what I suppose we now call ADHD and bounced back and forth in the back seat of the car the entire way saying out loud "mummy, mummy, mummy, ma" and each time he said a syllable he would bounce his back against the cream, sprung leather seats. So that was 7 bounces over and over and I mean OVER the entire trip. Almost 35 years later I can still hear him doing it. My dad kept yelling at my brother to shut up. But honestly, what are four kids in the back of a stinky hot chevvy meant to do for hours on end. The radio crackled on AM and mum and dad argued over stations to listen to, their hostility towards each other was palpable in the car. But we were so used to it we thought it to be normal.

As the trip became boring and we started to bicker my mum would reach over and slap our bare legs telling us to be quiet. When things got too much we would park the car and van along the side of the road at some deserted picnic spot in the middle of nowhere. Brown grassed paddocks dotted with ring barked gum trees and surrounded by barbed wire fences. There we would sit at these concrete picnic tables and benches and have some lunch that mum had made. Liverwurst sandwiches on black rye bread. Sometimes mum would spread the bread with lard first (rather than butter) and the lard would soak into the bread and leave a salty and soggy flavour.


We would drink warm lemon cordial from coloured anodised cups that packed away into a little leatherette case when we had finished with them. Mum and dad would maintain the rage between each other in frosty and disapproving silence.

Always, and without fail, our picnicking was joined by flies. Where ever they lived when no-one was around I do no know, but once you stepped out of the car and into that open space the flies descended like a plague. They sat on your back, crawled on your face and eyes trying to get the moisture from any open orifice.

That trip to Queensland was a selfish one really. Dad pulling us out of school to follow his dream of owning a caravan park and making millions - which, incidentally ended up being owning a fibro cement milk bar opposite a high school in Caboolture. He blamed his lack of success on everyone else. There is more to the story of course, and much more detail - but every now and the snippets of it come to mind and I think I must jot them down for my sake.

Really, some people just never realise that wherever you go and whatever you do there is one person you can never get away from - yourself.

Ciao
LC

Walking and My Mind

I walk quite a lot. When the weather is mild and the days are longer my walk each evening will be at least an hour and in that time I would cover about 8km's. Generally I prefer to walk on my own. I don't have friends as such that I would walk with anyway but even if that were not the case, their inclusion into my spare time would make me resentful. Time is a precious commodity and not something that I share easily.

Mostly I listen to music on my tiny Ipod Shuffle - you know the one that clips like a matchbook onto the waistband of jeans. Music is a great way to give me a rhythm to stride to. I can cover a long distance to the sound of a good tune. My step is not just fast, but it is very long. K has to jog to catch up on the odd occasion he may join me. If I am feeling extra fit I will jog maybe 1km on and then walk for 1km and so on.

When the strange, cyclic melancholy descends on me I can only listen to music by Ministry of Sound. Cold, impersonal and full of tribal rhythm that just propels me from point A to point B. I cannot listen to music that may invoke some sort of emotional response when I am on a downer. Should I do that, the purpose of the walk would be lost. And that purpose is to take me out of my head and let me be free of thoughts. It has taken me a long time to discipline myself to not feed the emotional calling of my egoic past and bad patterns of thought processes. Over time I have learnt to place my mind in a very tidy place when I feel even remotely depressed. I am just too aware of the consequences of not doing so.

Recently I have started to not listen to any music when I walk. So I walk and just focus on my surroundings. The trees, the dark sky, the smells in the air of lit fireplaces, the sound of my heavy step and breathing. It is not easy for me to walk in silence and the sound of thoughts in my head is loud and intrusive. If I am feeling strong that is okay but if I am tired, vulnerable or unsure of myself the silence is a scream to me. On those days, by the end of the walk, I will put the music on just to zone out and stop my mind from searching for meaning.

Many, many years ago, the way my mind used to work was such a stressful event for me. It was as though I was standing still and the world was racing by compelling me to make sense of it all. When I first went on anti-depressants I was in wonder of how still the world could be. I realised that this must be how other people saw the world. It was like I had left a war zone and found peace. That was only able to be maintained for a short time as I had to relearn my approach to the world. Medication was only a short term answer to a long term condition. My head had to have a break, my mind needed to be retrained.

Now, I have been off anti-depressants for over 2.5 years and whilst my mind has not changed, how I deal with it has. The world is still moving at 100 miles an hour but my mind looks beyond that and I am mostly able to ignore it. Accepting how I think and who I am has been the most liberating thing I have done. I enjoy being me. Being told I am strange or different no longer baffles me and, most importantly, I feel no obligation to change that.

I see S has a similar demeanour to me and I do my best to give him good emotional tools to cope with it. And these days there is much more consideration given to those to whom the world is not a straightforward place to live. When S says to me things like "I am who I am and do not feel the need to change that" I think to myself that it is funny how it took me many years of being a grown up to work that one out. However, he is safe in his world right now. No hormones racing through his young body, parents who look out for him and a strong sense of security - all that certainly makes things easier.

So, the walk I go on most nights is such a good way to bring my mind down from space city and get it ready for bed.

i have my mind tied to a string
like a balloon
in a child's hand.
tugging every now and then
I bring it down
to safely land.
precariously it hovers above
until it feels the surface clear
from anger
from sadness
from unknown fear.
close it comes
full of silent thoughts
then rests in peace to let me walk.
when i am done
and reach the front door
i let it go
to drift once more.

Ciao

LC

Such a blab this one

Why is it when I get PMT I get a HUGE pimple on my face. Never in the same place. Left cheek, right cheek, forehead, chin or nose.

This time I got under my EYE BROW.

Like, what the fuck is that.

I look like an insect bit me. I admit that had I left it alone it may not be so obvious.

But really, every other aging process is happening to me - grey hair, sun spots, easily tired, unwanted hair - you get the gist.

But when are the pimples going to stop?

Hmmmm. Also ate two bagels today and now feel like I may also have ingested TWO HUGE BALLOONS since I feel like I may explode.

S is also home sick. Cannot speak due to sore throat and claps his hands for my attention. I feel like a slave.

Cup of green tea - here I come.

Ciao
LC

Photos

I am not very dilligent at taking photos. I mean to and then I forget. Which pretty much sums up a lot of how I do things in life that are outside of work and motherhood and home stuff. I guess I am just at a point where I can only do so much and no more. Being a person who is very mindful of how my mind works means I have to be concious of my limitations. Could also be that I am lazy - but let us not go there.

Anyway, I thought I would make the effort to post a photo that was taken a few weeks ago at a wedding. K and I went to wedding of an old school friend of mine. It was held at a fairly exclusive place and I was compelled to purchase a new dress (which I bought over the phone after seeing it in a shop in a smaller size) and a new necklace (which I am not sure I shall every wear again). So we arrived at the wedding venue expecting the ceremony to start at 5.30 pm and after waiting around for twenty or so minutes the word got out that there was a delay because the groom (also the friend) was so drunk he could hardly stand up. And there was also mention of cold feet etc etc. So we hung around drinking a bit and making all sorts of jokes about it until about 7.45 pm when he finally sobered up enough to do the deed. So, this photo was taken maybe at 9.00 pm and you would have to agree that he still looks on the wrong side of sober.

I bet his wife was going to give him a hard time about it all in years to come. I bet he had a nasty hangover the next morning.

Also attached photo of me with gorgeous old school friend J who was recently dumped by her long term partner. I think the groom really had strong feelings for J and, had she been available 6 months ago, he would have not decided to marry the person he did. But that is only a woman's instinct working here so most likely twaddle.

Digital cameras show up every nasty flaw on the body of a human being - oh well.

Ciao

LC

Friday the Tenth of August

Down our local strip shop we have a lot of different food deli's. There is a lovely Russian one full of interesting meats and cheeses and tins of strange foods. It is always busy on a Saturday and the smells that waft out from the doorway are lovely. There is also and Italian deli, another shop that specialises in Indian foods and products to cook with and even a store that sells legumes and nuts only. We have Italian eateries, noodle bars, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, Indian and even a boring Australian type of pub/wine bar in the middle of it all. And coffee shops galore, bakeries including a most wonderful bagel shop. Fruit and vegetables, butchers. Good clothes shops and some great furniture stores. So, all in all it is very diverse.

And then there is "The USA Food Shop". Now, I am not quite sure why the word "Food" is in the name of the shop as I personally would not eat or drink anything that comes out of it. They import foods that are pretty much specific to the USA. Things like tinned sweet potato, Dr Pepper, Hershey chocolate and some other indescribeable sweet products. They are lovely people in the store. A few years ago they managed to get the whole trader's association involved with Halloween and now each year many children dress up and then visit each shop in Bentleigh to get some lollies and all that. But what I cannot help noticing is the odour that comes from the open door when I pass the place. In other food shops, the smell of cheeses, fresh cut watermelon, garlic, hams or fresh bread drift out to tempt passing traffic. In the USA store the smell is that of a giant bag of sickly sugar. A great big blast of sweet and totally unatural stink hits you when you get near that place. Summer is worse as it seems to coagulate in the air.

It does make me wonder about what exactly constitutes food in America. Surely it is not all about packaged, tinned and excessive sweetness? Even S cannot eat the chocolate from store - he says it is too sweet! I have friends who have travelled to the US and said that it was pretty hard to get good, healthy food from take away places. Surely this cannot be true. I looked up on the internet and I know that there is great traditional American fare to be had.

You really do have to look beyond what is shown to us as reality. I just do not believe that America is only a junk food nation. Surely not.

Hmmmm

Ciao
LC

Clothes

The three of us are going on a big holiday to the UK in March next year. For three weeks, which for me is plenty of time to be away from my cave and my couch.

But, all I can think about at the moment is what I am going to wear! Hmmmm.

In September we are having a short trip up to sunny Noosa for a break and again I am thinking what I will wear.

In fact, when I wake up in the morning I think about what I will wear to work. Then, depending in the severity of PMT and other things, it is quite normal for me to change my clothes three times before I leave the house.

I have a very bad relationship with clothes (does not stop me buying them) Truly, I just to wear jeans and t-shirts and school shoes. Add a cardigan when chilly. Then I wear something girly and think maybe I should make more of an effort with my clothes. Although last week I wore the same jeans for 7 days and I may have worn a t-shirt THREE days in a row.

But I do buy dresses and skirts in anticipation of having the urge to dress up. Then I spend the day wriggling around and fussing about with my clothes and cannot wait to get home and change.

When I do wear a dress S will say "mum, why are you wearing a dress" and he does say "wow" but usually the former and not the latter.

And as for high heels - ah no way. Give me practical shoes any day. I have one pair of high heels in my wardrobe (4") that shall never see the light of day. Apart from the fact I will end up just over 6 foot in them, I am not exactly sure how women walk around all day in them. Interesting indeed.

My clogs are as high as I need to go. Not as sexy as a pair of couture high heels, but sexy enough for me.

Ciao

LC

End Of The Week

It rolls up quicker - the end of the week. Sunday afternoon is when I assess what has transgressed over the past week and think how I can improve it or perhaps continue the enjoyment I had.

Outside of the usual work activities, I have been thinking a lot about the weekly recipes. As I am not essentially and naturally good cook, I always search for meals that are easy to prepare but also healthy and interesting. Indian food seems to meet those thoughts - although there are some deliciously wicked ones out there. Tonight I am trying one that I got from a very good blog http://cooking4allseasons.blogspot.com/ which I have added to my growing list of tasty blog sites I visit.

Finally I have my room sorted out. The spare room has been the bain of my life for quite a while. There was strong opposition from K to have me turn it into my room as he liked to have a spare bedroom. Like, what for, I would ask. It is not like we have visitors staying the night on a regular basis. Anyway, to cut a long and protracted story short, I took the stance of "tuff titties" a. In fact, I now take that stance all the time and life is much better. Last week the day bed arrived and I then went out and bought the cushions. I have to admit, I spent a small fortune on them and felt a bit guilty for a day or two. Now I am so pleased with it all and the room is getting closer to what I want. Still more to do, but here is a photo of the day bed. I have been lying on it reading books and mags, watching television and just enjoying it totally. The room is quite and peaceful and I love being away from the activity in the house. One thing I did notice was that the curtains look so bad in there so I have just bought some on EBay which will match perfectly.

Yeah, I know that all of the above is trite and shallow and there is so much more in the world happening that rates way above all of this. I have all that negativity being throw at me via the television, newspapers, radio and magazines. I don't have to bring it home or even comment about it. Concentrating on my small world is what matters to me. Being nice, polite, kind and thoughtful is what I try to instill in my son and also what I try to be.

Well, that time of day now where I have to organise dinner - rather excited about the "Red Chilli Dal" I am about to concoct. I suppose S will have pasta again - so I am making a carbornara sauce variation. Hmmmm, what cake tonight? I think a chocolate one this time - S does like that the best for play lunch at school.

Then, after all that cooking I am off for a long walk followed by a plonk on my gorgeous day bed to watch Midsomer Murders and have a nice cup of green tea.

Ciao

LC