Wednesday, October 06, 2010
I drank two cups of coffee.
Then wriggled around before having to go to the toilet (or bathroom for those who prefer that term) (or dunny).
I get to the toilet and there is no toilet paper.
Now, you think it would be easy to get toilet paper don't you?
Not ours. It is locked in a storeroom because for some reason it just gets nicked if left out. Goodness knows why. I mean, it is not a rare commodity here.
So I have to unlock the storeroom but the keys are in my car. They are in my car because they are too heavy to have in my hand bag.
Which means I have to go back to the office, dig into my bag and get my car keys, then get to my car and get the office keys, then go back to the storeroom and unlock padlock, get box of toilet paper down and take out four rolls, then put box back, then lock storeroom and then make my way back to the toilet only to be interrupted by someone delivering some things which I had to sign for.
How I did not wet my pants I do not know. I did not even do a "toilet dance" whilst signing for the delivery. Just stood casually and signed while using those "hidden" muscles. Women will understand what I am talking about.
Then when I got to the toilet I just kind of threw the rolls on the floor.
I am now going to get some extra rolls of loo paper and store them in the kitchen.
Or maybe I should not wait until the last minute to go for a pee.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
i went on facebook at work today and played farmville for ten minutes.
and read the dailymail.co.uk newspaper website.
logged into my home email and replied to six personal emails.
then read the newspaper in the kitchen at work.
came back to my desk and the pile of paperwork had not gone.
so i fixed it by rearranging it to another part of my desk.
then went and ate the last cup cake.
and a slice of bread with honey.
and wrote notes into my work book of what i have to do tomorrow.
'cos it seems nothing much is going to happen today
My boss and his wife are on holiday (again) and we are short staffed.
The first week of the month requires me to get out loads of invoices. Most of them are cost plus which involves a very convoluted process.
Because I took time off last week the workload is super duper this week. I am also taking this Friday off and am not changing that even though I know I will regret it next week. I am prepared for the consequences and intend to whinge fully next week as well.
Anyway, phone will not stop ringing. I am in the office on my own. And to top things off I did not save what I was doing, lost it and now have to redo it all.
I really should not even be blogging. And it is not even an interesting blog. It is a just a boring whingey blog.
Oh, fuck it. Back to work.
Monday, October 04, 2010
How I got roped into it I will never be able to explain. It just kind of happened.
Nor can I explain the fact that I am team leader. That just happened as well.
The walk is not until April 1st next year so we have plenty of time to train up.
Now I know what I will be doing every Sunday from January 2011. Walking 20 to 30km's.
All to raise $5K for a worthy cause.
I am looking forward to it.
Sunday, October 03, 2010
We also had to set beds up in two rooms. This resulted in my son losing access to his "Xbox Den" but he was fine about that (like he had a choice).
There is my uncle (mother's side) his wife, her sister and sister's husband. So four people straight from Denmark doing a big eight week holiday in Australia.
In 1994 my husband and I stayed with my uncle and aunt and they kindly took us for a three day yachting trip to the coast of Germany. It was great and so kind of them. The least we could do this week was try to return the hospitality.
On the day of arrival they just settled in after my brother picked them up from the airport at 5.oo am in the morning.
Next day we made our way to a touristy place called Sovereign Hill. It is about 1.5 hours drive from our place and we had to take two cars to fit everyone in comfortably.
Sovereign Hill is a replica gold mining town situated in a place called Ballarat. The shops are based on the original shops of Ballarat. I think the last time I came here was the last time we had an overseas visitor. In fact, the same goes for the last two times. It's a good place to start.
Below are a few photos.
People working here dress up in period clothing. Although, I did ask if they were wearing corsets and the answer was no. That would be uncomfortable.
Saturday, October 02, 2010
Am sitting on the edge of my bed right now getting some computer time while everyone is eating and talking in the family room.
So, blogging soon as tomorrow my brother is taking them out for the day.
In the mean time I have been doing a lot of:
You get the drift.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
He asked me if I remembered about my uncle, uncle's wife and uncle's brother and sister in law were flying over from Denmark tomorrow and would be in Melbourne late Thursday.
"Ah, no, kind of forgot actually," I said.
So now I am frantically trying to organise what to do with them on Friday.
And Saturday. Have to organise something for Saturday.
My brother is taking them out all Sunday.
Keeping in mind the old rule about visitors and fish (after three days they both stink) on Monday they head off with a campervan and will be making their way up to my mother's for her 70th birthday which is the 15th November.
I am so glad my brother reminded me.
That would have been a bit awful if I just forgot completely.
I am not used to having visitors from afar.
He will be 78.
As some of you may know, I have not spoken to him for many years. Or, should I say, he has not spoken to me.
It's a difficult thing for me. Despite all the "coming to terms with" and "moving on" and "dealing with it" and whatever else I have done to do all that, it still cuts pretty deep.
Things are made harder on the occassions I have seen him at the shopping strip near where he lives and he has made eye contact, recognised me and then chosen to walk right past me. I understand he has complex mental health problems and all that but I cannot prevent the basic human emotions that come up inside me when I see him or hear about him.
Sometimes people I know well have seen him and had long chats. He is happy and jovial. He never asks after me or any of my siblings. We kind of no longer exist for him.
In the time I have not seen him he has had two shoulder reconstructions, hip replacement, two knee replacements (with another having to be redone) and stomach cancer. When this was relayed to me it the person may well have been talking about the man on the moon because the only thought I had was "and?". I really felt not one iota of concern. Well, apart from the concern about my lack of concern. I would feel more for my dog that my own father. Which is kind of fucked really isn't it?
I don't dwell on it much. And despite his shitful parenting in some areas he gave me a lot of good life skills. He never made me feel less a person because I was female. He could not abide useless females so I was expected to be practical in all areas of life. He taught me to question authority because he was a big bully himself. He encouraged my creativity, especially as it offered a form of escapism for me.
The fact he was a terrible husband made me very thoughtful about the person I chose to be my own husband. The fact that he totally screwed my mother over when they got divorced and left her with almost no money while he enjoyed financial comfort drove me to be determined to work hard and be financially practical. If I were unlucky enough to get divorced tomorrow both my husband and I would be financially okay - not rich, but not poor.
As a parent he was, well, he was what he was. Domestic violence, verbal and physical abuse and spitefulness were part of his make up. But I forgive him for all of that because his own upbringing was cruel and lacked love and support so I honestly have no negative thoughts about that. It's life and there are people who are so much worse off I am just happy to be where I am today.
There were times when he was so caring and supportive for me. Times when the two of us would be laughing about all sorts of things. He is incredibly well read and intelligent and a great conversationalist. Very charismatic. Wonderful sense of humour.
This morning I said to my husband that I might stop at my dad's bakery to say hello and happy birthday. I just had the urge. Some sort of emotional hole had appeared and I thought that might help me fill it.
"Are you sure Linda? Every time you have made the effort to see him remember the response? And how you felt afterwards? How it set you back for weeks on end?" my husband said.
Yeah, I remembered. I also realised why I am in a good place. It's because I don't see my father any more.
Sometimes it is better to just leave things as they are.
This is one time. Today anyway.
happy birthday dad.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
I know I don't look very happy but that is me sans make up. A serious face.
Anyway, there is a reason I looked a bit out of sorts.
Bad things can happen when you exercise.
I fell over today during a run.
I was running a group and we were talking about the perils and changes of getting older. We range from 30 to 70 so we all had our own opinion. Mr 70 year old had the wisest words on getting older.
"It gets worse. Whatever you have to complain about, well, I am telling you it gets worse," he said as he jogged with us.
Then, I suddenly tripped on a slight lip in the concrete. I fell like a stone, hit and scraped my left upper arm against a brick fence and grazed my right elbow on the pavement.
Putting aside the pain of the event, I have to say how shocked I was to find myself lying on the ground and how different the sensation of falling over is at the age of 46 as opposed to the age of 10 (being the last time I fell over like that).
I felt like a great heavy lump landing on concrete and was kind of confused as to what I was doing there. The others in the group helped me up and once we ascertained I was all okay we resumed the run. But I cut it short as my arm was hurting as well as my knee which I also knocked. Plus I had lost my enthusiasm slightly.
Friday, September 24, 2010
There was a young woman sitting next to me who kept texting on her mobile.
I could hear the tic tic noise of her texting away and the screen lit up.
After three times of her doing it I finally had to say something.
"Do you mind not doing that as it is quite distracting and rude," I politely said.
She totally ignored me and kept texting and then put closed the phone when she had finished.
I was really pissed off.
"You know, that was really rude of you," I said, not so politely (at the same time my son poked my arm to shut me up).
She turned her dumb BOGAN and mean face to me and said "Get over it. Move on".
Well, wasn't I really fuming about it after that response. But I said nothing because at that point anything that would have come out of my mouth would have left her "move on" for dead and resulted in me throwing her mobile phone across the theatre or giving her a wedgie with it.
So, instead, I took a deep breath and ate some chocolate.
She did not text again fortunately because then I would have really lost the plot.
When the film finished my son leant over to me and said "Don't you say anything to her on the way out please".
Well, what does he take me for?
Some outspoken, tell it as it is kind of person?
Oh, yeah. He does.
So I said nothing (I was not planning to anyway).
I just moved on.
Oh, and I did bitch about it all the way home and told my son what I wanted to say to her. It felt pretty good.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Friend is not quite the right word. He is a teenage boy who is two years older than S and comes over when there is not a better option.
You know what I mean by that don't you?
He will come over when his Xbox is not working and he want to play with my son. Or he needs my husband to fix his bike. Or he forgot his keys and cannot get in his house. Or he wants to borrow something of my son's. Or he has no one else to hang out with. Or wants to walk to school with someone.
It kind of shits me but I realise that is life.
My son knows this because I once said to him "If you did not have Xbox do you think that G would ever bother with you?. He said not likely.
Well, today I was home and G came over. My son wanted to know if G wanted to come to the movies with him tomorrow afternoon.
During the entire conversation they had, G looked at his Facebook on his mobile.
He did not give my son a straight answer as to whether or not he would go to the movies as he was waiting to see what another friend was doing first and was not sure which he wanted to do.
He was seeing what was the better option.
As he left he said to me that he would let me know what was happening later on tomorrow.
Well, I decided to be a bitch mother to him.
"G, the truth is you are waiting to see if there is a better thing to do aren't you? I mean, S is that last option isn't he?" I asked him.
He looked very shamefaced and said yes, he supposed so.
"G, that's fine and I understand that kids always like the best and most fun thing to do but that is not how you make and keep friends. That is how you lose good friends and end up with people who use you. Just for the record, S is fully aware that you always treat him as the last option when it comes to things to do. If someone thought that of me I would feel shame. There are those who make a few good friends in life and then there are those who have hundreds of what might be a better option," I said.
He mumbled a bit more, turned red and then looked at his fucking FB again. He asked for our phone number and said he would ring first thing in the morning and let me know if he could come (if the better option did not materialise).
I then went on about having to organise my time with work and the movies and I cannot have him tell me half an hour before the movie is due to start that he can go.
Just as he was about to leave I said "G, don't treat my son like shit."
During this time my son was sitting at the computer and I went in and said to him that I hoped I did not do the wrong thing.
"Nope, it is true. Sometimes you just have to say it," he answered.
Now, in defence of G, he has had a rough start in life. His mother is a drug addict and in jail now. He has not seen her for years. His father is in jail for robbery. The first few years of his life were very troubled and he and his older sister live with their lovely grandparents. However, he is old enough to be made aware of his behaviour.
I know I could have left it but I cannot keep my mouth shut when it comes to people treating others like second rate options. It was not just because it was my son who was at the receiving end of it, because I would say that to anyone.
If a person is going to be selfish and thoughtless and they happen to be in my house being those things then I can say what I like.
I think I was really affected by it because when I was growing up I was always the last option for loads of school friends and I never understood why. I always blamed myself thinking that maybe I was not a nice person or just unlikeable. It took years to realise that it was not really me who was not nice, it was them.
My son is not hurt by the way G is. He just thinks "yeah, whatever" and I think that is because he has a good sense of self whereas I was the complete opposite.
Good sense of self or not, that did not take my right away to tell G what I thought.
But I do feel a bit horrid because he might be home feeling a bit put out.
Although, it is not the first time he has had a roasting from me after he tried to get my son to put a hack or something on the ITouch. That made today's telling off seem like nothing.
Anyway, my son just told me he would rather go to the movies with me.
I must be a better option!
Monday, September 20, 2010
There was no internet for the entire day.
I could not check on the banking, get emails, read emails, peek at blogs, check the weather for the week ahead and numerous other time wasting activities.
Instead I did a solid seven hours work before heading home to pay some work bills via the bank account on my internet.
I was once again reminded how the internet plays such a huge part in my life. Sigh.
Today is the first day of two week school holidays. Because both my husband and I are working we left S home alone. He had a friend coming over around midday so that was fine.
Before I left I made his breakfast and then showed him all the food there was to eat in the house.
I got home at about 4.00 pm and he was in the "Xbox" room with his friend playing away (no surprise there).
When I asked him if he had eaten he said no.
"Are you serious? What? Nothing all day?" I quizzed.
"A drink of juice and a bit of popcorn," he said.
Now I know for sure my son would DIE if left alone for too long.
Although, the good thing is, he does not randomly pig out when home alone. Then again, there is not very much junky food to pig out on in the house so he must figure starvation is a better option.
Tomorrow he is out with my husband on a trip to the museum to see the Titanic exhibition so he will be moving around at least. On Thursday I am taking him and his friend to the Royal Show to see animals, go on rides and buy some show bags. It involves me walking around like a pack horse most of the time, but they are happy to see the boring things there as well.
On Saturday night we went to someone's fiftieth birthday party. I knew nobody and for the first 45 minutes sat with my son playing games on his Itouch while we waited for a friend of his to arrive. It was utterly boring.
By the time a joined in with the "grown up" group I was feeling a bit agitated. I am not very good at big social get togethers and take a while to get into the conversation. So, I had a glass of wine to loosen up. I might drink three or four times a year and it would never be more than a glass of white wine. No reason other than alcohol makes me feel pretty sick. But I do think it is a great social lubricant so to speak. So, now and then I will risk feeling blech the next day if it puts me a ease enough to talk to people I don't know.
Anyway, everyone is chit chatting away about different topics (mostly sport) and I am listening politely. Then the conversation got onto everyone's kids. The wives went on about how they limit time on the television and Xbox for their boys.
"I never let the boys have more than one hour of television per day or half an hour of Xbox per day'" said one of them.
"Oh, me neither. I really limit their computer use as well," says another.
"If my boys are on any of those things I just unplug them or turn them off when their time is up, no warning. I want to show them I mean business," pipes up number three.
They went on a bit about parents who let their kids play Xbox all day and those who let their kids watch tv for more than two hours. Blah, blah and more blah.
Well, I am one of those mothers so I just could not keep my mouth shut.
"I let my son sit in his pyjamas all day on a Saturday and play Xbox. I also let him use the computer and watch tv. I am one of those shit mothers you are talking about," I said to them.
There was a bit of silence and then some back pedalling going on.
"My boys like to play sport so I just kick them outside to do that when they are inside too much. They get moronic when they are on the electronics for too long," one explained.
"Mine too. He is a complete shit if he plays Xbox for more than an hour so I have to make sure he doesn't sit too long at any of those things," admitted number three.
Then the other confessed that if her two could play Xbox without being grumpy she would leave them to it.
So, why not say that in the first place? Because as parents we do what works and because my son is easy going on or off the Xbox why would I deny him that?
And, am I wrong here, but I think that the mother who just unplugged her son's electronics when it was time for him to get off, is disrespectful to him. What is that about? I would never do that to a child or adult. It is just rude.
Then we changed the subject. Well, they did. Started talking about all the sport their boys play and how good they are.
At that point I was tempted to have a second glass of wine to completely zone out but figured it was not going to be worth the crappy headache the next day. So I smiled politely and listened attentively and made all the right noises.
And wondered if anyone would notice if I farted.
Oh, I hate parties..
Sunday, September 19, 2010
It is International Talk Like A Pirate day.
I spent a lot of the day on my own so had nobody to talk pirate to.
But it is not too late for you!
So, you scurvy lads and lassies, get yer peg legs out and, um, tap dance.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
So, I dropped him off at the day clinic and got into the car. I was driving his car because mine was in for a service. He drives a big station wagon. I hate it. It is so big. Plus it is automatic and my car is a manual. My car is a zippy little hatch.
Anyway, I jump in the car with the full intention of going home and doing some rather urgent paperwork and boring bookwork. However, once in that car and a few spare hours up my sleeve I was like a naughty child and drove the car to the big shopping centre that was about twenty minutes away. The word freedom comes to mind.
I did a bit of clothes shopping. Had a cup of coffee and then picked up my husband from the surgery and we went home.
Not a skerrick of guilt by the way. I relished the three hours of doing my own thing.
Today my son made the decision to shave off his newly grown moustache. It was quite dark and hairy.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
My son had a late start to school today so my husband and I had to leave before S got off to school.
Now, he was not that well but I think he was just tired and grumpy. He did feel a bit hot on the forehead.
On the way to work I got about 5 missed calls on the mobile phone and finally I put my headset on and rang my son at home. He told me he was sick. I said he had to go to school. Then he rang K to tell him the same thing and got the same order to go to school.
I get to work and he rings again. He sounded awful and said he had checked his temperature and it was 38.5 celcius. So I said he did not have to go to school.
Yeah, yeah I know. Sucker...... But you know, it's hard. I am at work, phone ringing, kid sounds sick and I feel motherly concern. So, sucker I am.
During the day I rang him and have to admit he sounded like crap. He did not go on the Xbox. Just lay around watching DVD. He did finish his art project though.
But you know, he kind of improved after I got home and I wonder if he was just having an off day and I was too soft on him. Or maybe he just sold me a "sick boy" story because he was tired.
You see, when I told the young guys in the office that S was home sick they said I had been sucked in by the teenage whinge.
"You know, his forehead was very hot this morning," I said defending my decision.
"Oh, I bet it was. I know that trick. Head under the pillow and doona so that it heats up," said the youngest of the two guys. He is only 21 so I figure he is more in touch with a teenager than me.
"Really?" I said recalling that he was doing exactly that thing when I went in to wake him up.
"Yep, really. You have been shafted," he told me.
You know, I think he is right.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
I go four times a week. My husband goes three times a week.
He never used to go until last year when I had surgery, he did three of my classes and could not believe what a great all over work out he got. So he joined.
I go on a Monday, Tuesday and Thursday nights along with a Saturday morning. In the warmer months I may drop one class as I try to ride my bike to work or walk more in the evening.
My husband goes to the morning classes.
Although I think I am not competitive, I realise I am when it comes to my husband. If he does a fitness test I always want to know how he did as that motivates me to do better. It is kind of pointless because he will always win out in the weights stake and I will always do better in the squats department (women have more power in their thighs - some weight ratio thing).
Whenever I go to the classes I say to the personal trainer things like "K ate a block of chocolate last night" so that when he arrives to his next class she tells him he has to work off the chocolate.
Or "I think you need to remind K to lay of the white bread and jam sandwiches he has with his cups of tea".
The other night he said that he went to the class and a few girls asked how his chocolate was as they had been at my class the night before.
"They know things about me," he complained.
"Yeah, but only your chocolate eating habits," I tell him.
I save all the other stuff for my blog.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The audience is generally over the age of 65.
The other night he came back from the "gig" and said he really knew that the audience was of the older demographic after he went to the toilets.
"Remember when you used to go to nightclubs and in the toilets they had things you could buy like condoms or a toothbrush? And they had advertising for where to go to get checked for sexually transmitted diseases" he said.
"Yep, I remember that. Plus tampons or a squirt of awful perfume to get rid of the smell of clubbing," I recalled.
"Well, in the toilets at the RSL they have advertising for incontinence pads. No vending machines of any kind. Obviously certain needs are no longer part of ones life," he told me.
Signs of aging.
Not in my mind.
Most days, when I get home from work and do what needs doing I like to sit at the laptop and play Farmville while I watch the news and have a cup of tea.
I shift my trees around.
Collect the cyber eggs from the cyber chickens.
All my hens are lined up in rows according to colours as are the trees.
Harvest cyber crops.
Sometimes I plant different crops together to make a pattern or a word. Needless to say, the words I choose are rude or silly ones.
I feed the pigs with slop.
Make pretend cakes in my cyber bakery and sell them to other poor unfortunate Farmville nutters.
Visit the farms of the aforementioned nutters and fertilize their farms.
Continue to post my mindless farming practices on my Facebook wall which surely annoys the crap out of my Facebook friends (all 25 of them). They must think I have no life.
I even log into my son's Facebook and tend to his farm (with his permission).
I have spent small amounts of real money to make my farm bigger.
If I have a busy week ahead I have to plant crops that take four days to fully grow so that I don't have to worry about them.
Once my crops were going to be ready to harvest in the middle of the night so I had a friend overseas log into my Facebook and harvest them for me so they would not die.
My husband cannot see the fascination.
But it is a very peaceful thing for me to do.
Even if it is a bit sad.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
The conversation came about because my son had brought home a project about Ancient Egypt. My husband recalls that he was the same age as S when he really got into Egyptian history.
"Remember history in primary school?" K mused.
"Nope," I replied.
"You must. It was so boring. Burke and Wills stuff. It was terrible," he said.
"Nope," I said.
"You must have. Come on. What about Captain Cook? Surely you were taught about him?" my husband tried to jog my memory.
"Yep. Captain Cook. He chased a chook," I answered.
"What?" said K.
"All around Australia. Remember?" I went on.
"Oh yeah. That's right. He lost his pants," K recalled.
"Yeah, in the middle of France. Then found them in Tasmania," I finished off the history lesson.
Chased a chook
All around Australia.
Lost his pants
In the middle of France.
And found them in Tasmania.
I learnt that history lesson in primary school.
Not in the class room.
In the playground.
Of all the history I learnt in school, that is about all I have retained.
Maybe all history should be taught in the form of funny verse.
That's a thought. I might put it to the school council.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
It was weeks ago and things have been resolved - I think.
Anyway, he disabled the K9 internet safety programme on the computer so that he could access some p**n.
I was a bit pissed off about it and told him off but did not go into it too much as I felt it was my husband's role to deal with it.
So, my husband had a talk to him about the whole pornography, girls, relationship thing and explained why we, as parents, have to set boundaries about what he can access on the computer.
My son told my husband he felt better talking to him about these things now because he was older etc. Which was great because I figure I have talked enough about things and there are certain conversations that fathers have with sons or something along those lines.
Part of the conversation was about sexual desire and being a teenage boy and all that stuff and my son said to my husband "I love p**n" and "I love girls". So my husband explained about these normal and healthy feelings and how to best deal with them.
When my husband relayed the conversation to me I realised how things are so different these days when it comes to chats with parents. There would have been not a chance that my husband would have even said the word "sex" in front of his parents ever, let alone the acknowledgement that he like p**n!
I was talking to Bossman about the episode (a less detailed account) and he said that I should not get fussed and boys will be boys and there is no big deal seeing porn and all kids do. Blah, blah and blah. Spoken like a true bloke.
Well, Bossman, let me tell you that you will think differently when your girls are fifteen years old and they bring home a boy for you to meet. You will be thinking about the very fact that it is more than likely that boy has seen more p**n in three years than you have seen in your lifetime. And, you better hope that his father and mother had a good talk to him about how to treat women and how p**n is not necessarily a true reflection on what goes on in a relationship.
We resolved the whole computer thing with my son and my husband explained that it was in his best interest to not do that again or he would find life very uncomfortable. It was not about the p**n access but the fact the he deliberately disobeyed our rules and disabled the security on the computer. It was about honesty and trust.
I think things are fine now and I have made a decision to not hound him or check on him and to give him space. I am guessing he might get some inappropriate emails sent to him from friends and all that but I can only control certain aspects of his life and have to trust, just really trust, that whatever parenting he has had up until now helps him think before he acts.
In previous posts I know I have mentioned issues along these lines but it gets more complicated when the hormones hit.
Which is the reason my husband handled it.
There is a huge difference between having a "birds and bees talk" with a ten year old than there is having that sort of conversation with a very hormonal thirteen year old teenage boy.
However, it has not stopped him coming home and asking curly questions from school.
Only now he asks my husband AND me.
Seeing who gives what answers I suppose.
Getting the male and female perspective on things now.
It's all a very interesting process.
Friday, September 10, 2010
My mother is turning 70 in November and I am thinking of doing a photo book for her. I am not very motivated about much at the moment apart from just juggling the whole work/life balance thing but I have the thought there and that is a start.
Trouble is, I have hundreds of slides going back fifty years and it is very time consuming to go through them and then put them on the computer. Then I get bogged down with a non stop trip down memory lane which is a bit overwhelming.
Anyway, below are a couple of photos I found of myself from a few years ago. I think it is 2006. I was in a very, very fragile frame of mind then for numerous deeply personal reasons. I was also recovering from being unwell in 2005.
I look so tanned and slim. You would not know how totally fucked in the head I was in that photo. I know because I am no longer in that frame of mind and I can tell you that I work very, very hard at staying away from that slippery slope.
In this photo my son was starting grade three. I look at that picture and think "who is that woman?". I know it is me, but it isn't really me. It is some person who took over while I just disappeared somewhere.
I know this is nothing special but I am a bit suprised how much easier things are to do when I am going from spreadsheet over to the accouting software all the time.
Not sure how much more efficient it will make me but it makes me feel efficient.
And if I feel it will it not happen?
Some sort of self fulfilling prophecy?
I feel therefore it will happen?
Or is it I think therefore I am?
Or I am bored therefore I blog?
Or you are bored and read my blog?
Or bored because you read my blog?
Thursday, September 09, 2010
I like windows. I like looking out of windows and seeing the view. Does not matter to me if the view is good or bad. It is the looking out from in that I like. Whatever is going on out there has nothing to do with me as such. It has something to do with being in the safety of a room and having the option of seeing what is going on.
Whenever I travel I like to take photos of the views from windows. Looking out from a hotel room or a bed and breakfast.
When I look out of a window I wonder just how many people have stood in the same spot and looked at whatever view is there. What were they thinking? Were they even thinking when they looked out? Or were they just looking out to pass the time? Everything is so transient.
I prefer small windows to look out of. I know big windows with sweeping views are the selling point of a house but there is something really nice about the dynamics of a small window. The small space that leads one to be more curious about what is happening outside.
If I look out from a huge expanse of glass I just go "yeah, that's nice". A smaller window seems to awaken an intense curiosity about what is out beyond the obvious view. I get close to the glass pane and look all around. It just feels like I am exploring.
For me, when I see a small window in a house it reminds me of a constantly changing painting hanging on a wall.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
It was before I was born and I am not sure even if my older sister was born then either.
It looks so fresh.
My mother looks so young. I cannot believe that she will be turning seventy this year.
I think the get together is something to do with the Danish Club.
Beer drinking seems to be the feature of the day.
Time is a strange thing. It has its own message.
But I cannot always read it.
Or understand it.
So I just feel it.
The photo above was taken in 1994 when my husband and I first travelled overseas together.
We were in Scotland and were going to a wedding. I had to buy a dress and this dress was the choice of all the dresses on offer.
It was hideous. I never wore it again but my mother made it into a little jump suit for my son. Believe me, the fabric was more suited to a one year old than a thirty year old.
I have been enjoying looking at the slides.
It seems like a lifetime ago and the person I was then is nothing to do with the person I am now.
I am filled with all sorts of strange emotions that are about so many things I cannot quite understand.
Just getting older I suppose.