Saturday Sloth

Today I was up bright and early to meet up with the Oxfam team for some fund raising activities.

We helped out at a Farmer's Market.  Setting up a few tents.  Put up signs. Taking money.  Directing traffic around the car park.  We get a share of the takings.

We got there at 7.00 am.  I was up in such a rush.  Barely had breakfast.  Just enough to keep me from falling over.  I am not a person who can just go all morning without eating.

Although not essentially a long day, it felt like one.  You know, that thing when you get up early?

The sun was shining and I was sweating.  My first shift was taking money at a rather quiet entrance.  For two hours.  I had four different people join me.  One after the other.  We chatted away.  Then I had some time off to go walk around.  But I spent most of that time walking to the toilet and back.  Managed to buy some organic sultanas and almonds which I then put into the boot of my car.

My next shift was to stand in the car park and, well, fucked if I know what.  I just stood there for two hours.  It is not like I had to tell anyone how to park their car.  I did point out where the ticket machine was.  

So I stood there.   My car was nearby so now and then I popped over to eat some sultanas and almonds.  Drink some water.  Put on sun screen.  Eat more sultanas and almonds.  Drink more water.  Then stood around smiling and sweating in my neon yellow safety top.

Finally the finish time was coming up.  I managed to buy a few more things to take home to eat.  Then we all packed up.  I have to say, it is easier to take a tent out of bag and put it up than it is to pull it down and stuff it back in the back.  It was more like a small marquee.  There were three of them.  Sun was beating down on us as we fumbled around like dunces getting everything packed away.

Then we had to walk around and pick up any rubbish.

I was very grateful to the organisation for allowing us to be involved and we are doing it again in March.  I have also been asked to do a talk about the Oxfam walk for them one night.

I was home by 2.00pm.  Dog tired and incredibly hungry.

The afternoon then consisted of something like this.

Eat some cake.

Eat some sour dough bread with hommus.

Eat some of the other cake.

Eat more bread.

Have a cup of tea.

Eat popcorn.

Lie in awkward position on chair and try to sleep because too lazy to get up and go to bed.

Chew bagel.

Another cup of tea.

Eat some more cake.

Eat sultanas.

Eat almonds.

Open fridge.

Stare into fridge.

Eat tiny piece of cake.

Eat sultanas.

Lie on bed.

Snooze.

Get up.

Open fridge.

Stare into fridge again.

Drink mineral water out of bottle (which is okay because nobody else likes it).

Eat icing off cake.

Eat apple (trying to be healthy).

Go into studio.

Turn on computer.

Upload photos.

Put head on desk and shut eyes.

Sit up and read online newspapers.

Put head in hands and fall asleep.

Go inside.

Eat more fucking cake.

And some more bread.

Sultanas.

Almonds.

Popcorn.

And another cup of tea.

Then watch television.

Fall asleep in chair.

Then eventually make dinner for son.  Dinner consists of fresh sausage rolls from Farmer's Market that I heat up in oven.  Cost of these sausage rolls is hideous but son tells me that they are the best he has ever had and he should know having possibly eaten a truckload in his lifetime.

Toast bread and finish off hommus.  Read fat content of hommus and realise I have eaten three days worth of fats in on afternoon.  But that is okay because they are good fats....

Go to eat some more chocolate cake but son has finished it off.

So eat some of the lemon cake and realise I now feel sick.

Stop eating.

Come into studio and blog about my day.

May have another cup of tea.

But no eating.

Ciao
LC

Kitchen Finished

It's all done. 

I feel like I am in someone elses kitchen.  

Below are some before and after shots.

A new pantry.  I am always forgetting to shut the doors after getting something out. 

We opened up the chimney and used the space for drawers and a shallow bench.

The dismantling of the old kitchen.

What a messy job it was.

 Everything gone.

New kitchen looks a bit slick now.  The glass splash back is silver.

 Floors were repolished.  

The house is tidy.

I suppose I should do some cooking now.

Ciao
LC

Sunday Post

I have had a fab weekend.  

We finally had a floors finished and can move furniture back into the house.  Sadly, that meant the television was moved out of the bedroom and back into the lounge room.  I enjoyed it being the bedroom because I realise how much I like watching tv from bed.  Perhaps it is just as well that my husband has the good sense to put his foot down on this one or I may just live in the bedroom.

Before we moved a few things back into the house I insisted on cleaning between the seat cushions of the couch and arm chair.  When I was cleaning out the seat where it just so happens my husband sits the most, I pointed out how disgusting it was.  Full of crumbs and other bits of grubby stuff.  I did find some money so that went into my pocket (as is the unofficial rule in our house).  

Then I cleaned out the sides of the cushion of my arm chair and found forty hair elastics.  Plus a couple of unpaid bills.  Can you believe that?  Now I know where all the hair elastics go.  In fact, just the day prior I was wondering where on earth they disappear to.  While I cannot recall actually stuffing each individual one down there, I do know I might come back form exercise, pull the elastic out from my hair and then just, well, put it somewhere.  Now I know where that somewhere is.

It was very funny but a bit freaky when I saw how many there were.  Because I know I also leave them in other random spots around the house and my husband finds them and puts them in a drawer in the bedroom.  

Went to the fancy dress party on Saturday night.

What do you think of me having a short, dark hair do?  I don't mind it, for the night only.  It was a fun night and everyone dressed up for the event.

My dress was sensational.  Honestly, I am loathe to take it back to the fancy dress shop.  It was so beautifully made and heavily beaded.  When I walked the fringe swished with the most beautiful rhythm.  No wonder woman want to wiggle when they where a dress that lends itself to a wiggly, swishy movement.

Whilst I had to hire an outfit for the night, my husband actually had his kit in the wardrobe.  Well, not the white tie.  That was hired.  

The other week my husband sold one of his cars and replaced it with another.

Finally, a TR6 is in the driveway and I love it.

Took it for a drive yesterday and felt as free as a bird.  When I got away from the traffic lights that is.

Nothing beats driving a classic open top car.

I may drive it to work now and then.  Because the traffic is so busy you really need to get up early to enjoy the empty road.  

Today I am cleaning up the house properly after months of interruptions.  

The only thing we now need to get is a kitchen table.  The sooner the better because my son has been enjoying the option of eating his dinner where ever he happens to be sitting.  Be that at the computer or the Xbox.  And I do not like eating my meals anywhere expect for a table.  

So that has been my weekend.   

Ciao

LC

Oh Friday

My boss offended me today.

He said something that overstepped the mark about making comments about other people's children.

My son is now in year 9.  This is a big year for all the kids.  They learn a lot of life skills and get very involved in the school activities.  For the past two years my son, like a lot of kids, has been bored at school.  His report was good (with the exception of sport) and he had above average marks without much effort.

His focus is completely different now as he is older and feeling his way around life.  He is, overall, a very mature guy, has a good circle of friends and no matter what we ask of him he just never gives us any grief.  He may argue about things but he is just not a shitty kid.

That may well change in the next few years but right now he is who he is and I like who he is becoming as an individual.

At the school they offer the chance to go for a particular award.  The link is here if you want to read about it but I don't want to put it on my blog because it gets too many hits.  My son has decided he wants to do it.  He made the decision without any input from us and we fully support him.

I know he can do it because he is very similar to me in that once he finds something he wants to commit to he will just embrace it.

I mentioned it to my boss and he said the following:

"He won't do it.  It has a hike in it and he is not fit enough".

By the way, my boss looks like Barney Rubble and thinks that going to the gym three times a week (followed by a coffee and muffin) makes him fitter......

He also said:

"He hasn't got it in him".

I said that if my son chooses to do something he will do it.  Then I said that I would bet money that my son would complete the award and my boss said he would be happy to.

I felt like saying "Get fucked you moron" and something else which was along the same lines. But I just figured that he does not know my son and I do.  Also, bossman thinks I am a fruitcake and probably thinks my son is the same.

My brother thought the same thing and the reason he came to the conclusion is that my son is always on the computer when my brother visits.  What does he want my son to be doing?  Hanging around talking to him?  Kicking a football?  Climbing a tree?  Riding a bike?  Blah blah blah.

What got me is that my brother and my boss think it okay to slag off my son.  Hell, I don't tell my brother that sometimes his kids behave like shits and have the most disgusting table manners.  Or that they have no respect for other people's homes.  Or that they are, overall, not always nice to have around and that his oldest son cheats at every board game and tells lies all the time.  It would be bad manners and, quite frankly, none of my business.

Also, no matter what I think of his children I would praise them for trying for anything.  Why do people have to be unpleasant.  

Anyway, I went home and relayed the whole story to my husband and son.

My son laughed and told me to do the bet for a lot of money as I would win.

Or he would win for me.

Actually, he would win for himself.

More importantly, he does not care what my boss thinks or says.  Or my brother.

He knows who he is and never lets what other people say affect him.

Oh, I just want to give him a hug right now.

But he is on Facebook so I will message him instead.

Ciao
LC

Oh Lovely Monday

Time to record my weekend activities.

One day when I am old and grey I shall have a jolly good time reading back what I did.

I woke up Saturday morning nice and early to go on another training walk.  During the night a spider had bitten my on my bum.  I assume it was a spider because it looks like a spider bite.  It feels like one and it is a nasty one too.  Despite searching through the bedding I was unable to find any remains of a spider.

As I am still alive I can safely assume it was not some deadly bum biting red back spider.  Nonetheless, it has a left a big ugly stamp on my upper left bum cheek.  Today it is bigger than it was on Saturday morning.  And uglier.  No wonder I hate spiders.   I will give it a day or two and then if things have not settled I will have to go to the doctors and let him look at it.

It's a bit funny really.  I mean, being bitten on the bum by a spider is funny when you say it to yourself.  It conjures up all sorts of amusing visual things.

Anyway, despite that start to the morning I headed off for a training walk up hills.  It was only 21km's and we did it at a good pace.  Although, there was a nice stop at a lovely Japanese Tea house along the way where we had a rest and refreshments.

Although I ate well and made sure I drank enough, for the rest of the afternoon at home I was really tired and headachey.  This continued on into the night and the next day.  In the afternoon I went to my sister's for her birthday and had to leave early so that I could go home and rest.  Maybe I was just unwell.  Maybe it was the spider bite.  Maybe I am just old and the walk wore me out.  Who knows.  Today I am better.

I have been consumed with the thought of getting another dog.  I miss having a doggy around.  But I am dragging my feet a bit about the whole puppy thing.  Recently I searched online for anyone who had a mature border collie to be rehoused.  None at the pounds but there were a few breeders who have them available.

Dog breeders approach dog ownership a little differently I think.  I know they love their dogs but I think they can be a bit cold about them as well.  Sometimes if a dog does not turn out to be good show material they will pass it on to someone who wants a pet.  They can sometimes have a different attachment to the dog.  Not all, so don't bite my head off.  Just some.  And I think the one I contacted in regards to an 8 month old female border collie was one of those sorts.

After chatting for a while I ascertained that the dog had no training but did come when called, walked on a lead and would stand to be brushed.  Wish is exactly what one needs for a dog to be shown.

When I asked her why she was selling this one she said:

"I have three other bitches and don't need a fourth.  Besides, out of all four bitches she is the most revolting to me.  You know what I mean.  She has no appeal."

I am not sure what to think about that assessment.  However, I was prepared to take on the challenge of an untrained border collie even if she was "revolting" but have not heard from the person since.  She was to send me some photos so I am unsure what is going on there.  Still, I shall continue looking.  Somewhere out there is the one for me!

I think I am the only one in the house who really wants another dog.  K does not mind and will go with whatever happens but I know my son has no interest.  We had a discussion that went like this:

Me:  "What do you think about getting another dog?"

Son: "Not interested.  It's your dog, your responsibility and you have to walk it and feed it."

Is there something wrong with that conversation?  Shouldn't I be saying what he is saying?  Shouldn't he be saying what I said?

I am ending this post with the lyrics to one of my all time favourite songs.  It reflects life so very well and when I listen to it I think how well Paul McCartney captured the doleful humanity of urban living.

Another Day
Paul McCartney & Wings

Ev'ry day she takes a morning bath she wets her hair
Wraps a towel around her as she's heading for the bedroom chair
It's just another day
Slipping into stockings, stepping into shoes
Dipping in the pocket of her raincoat
It's just another day
At the office where the papers grow she takes a break
Drinks another coffe and she finds it hard to stay awake
It's just another day

Du du du du du du, it's just another day
Du du du du du du, it's just another day

Chorus
So sad, do sad
Sometimes she feels so sad
Alone in her apartment she'd dwell
Till the man of her dreams come to break the spell
Ah, stay, don't stand her up
And he comes and he stays but he leaves the next day
So sad
Sometimes she feels so sad

As she posts another letter to the sound of five
People gather 'round her and she finds it hard to stay alive

Du du du du du du, it's just another day
Du du du du du du, it's just another day

Chorus

Ev'ry day she takes a morning bath she wets her hair
Wraps a towel around her as she's heading for the bedroom chair
It's just another day
Slipping into stockings, stepping into shoes
Dipping in the pocket of her raincoat
It's just another day

Du du du du du du, it's just another day
Du du du du du du, it's just another day 


Ciao
LC

Wednesday Work Day

I am blogging from work and I think that today I won't even justify it.

Okay, I will justify it because that reduces the guilt factor.

Actually no, I won't justify it.  I don't feel guilty about doing a post at work but I do feel guilty about not feeling guilty.

I have slipped into a bad sleep routine lately.  I don't know how it happened but suddenly I have found myself going to bed later and then not sleeping well.  This morning was particularly challenging to leave the seductive warmth of my bed.  Then when I was about to head off to work I decided that the clothes I wore annoyed me so I had to change.  That is never a good sign for the day ahead.  But at least it was only one costume change.  There have been many mornings where I have six of them and leave my clothes all higgeldy piggeldy on the bed.

This week is busy and it won't be until Sunday morning that I can sleep in.

On Friday my son starts school for the year.  How he will cope getting back into the real world I will never know.  He has had the most sloth like six weeks of holiday.  I think he wore his pyjamas most days.   He lost weight initially because he did not eat much.  I am sure it is because he is too lazy to get up and get food.  But he has gained a bit now after we made efforts to leave food out for him in a place that required not too much effort to get to.  I would ring K during the day and ask if he had fed S.  A few times a lunch box was packed for him and place near the computer.

Yesterday I sent him a note asking if he had eaten yet.  This was after lunch.  He replied that he had eaten breakfast and that the thing he had eaten was a Magnum ice-cream.  Then, for my benefit, he had a yoghurt.  At least I know he is getting his dairy requirements.

This Saturday we are doing another training walk.  Not as long as the last one but still up plenty of hills.  This time my dear husband is dropping us off and picking us up.  Otherwise we will have to do a return walk back and then we are not ready to do a 56km walk yet.  That will happen later.

This morning as I plonked up the 17 stairs to get into the office at work I wondered how on earth I will ever be able to walk 100 kms.  It is funny that.  Some days the body feels ancient and I think I must be the most unfit slug around.  But it rises to the challenge and does not let me down.

A few people have asked what it is like to do the walk the second time around.  Is the thought process different?  I think it is.  Plus I am in a different space in my head so the approach is different.  We just do it.  Once committed the mind wants to focus and the body has to come with.  Personally I would rather walk 100kms than run 10kms.  One of the girls with us has done a couple of half marathons and thinks that the walking is much harder.  Some people are runners and others are walkers.  I am a walker.

In fact, I have decided to keep any running to a minimum.  I am happy to stay fit enough to run 5kms but that is it.  I read that Liz Hurley never runs as it makes one saggy.  Plus I did read that a leading cosmetic surgeon said that running adds to the ageing process.  I presume he meant the external process. All that pounding the pavement must shake things down.

Plus there is the whole pelvic floor thing.  I don't have issues with that but why tempt fate!  Last thing I want is to be wetting my pants while running down the street.

It's not just that.  Since reducing my running to all but a little jog now and then, I have had minimal back and joint pain.  In general the aches and pains have all but gone.  Walking and weight training is my thing and I am happy with that.

Tonight I have book club.  The group has increased in size.  I am the oldest.  The only one with a tattoo.  The only one with an only child.  The only one with a teenage child.  The only one who works full time. I need to stop swearing so much when I go there.  Not that I swear lots but when you are around those who don't use the F word it is duly noted when someone does.  By that I mean that there is a slight silence.  I do like to be considerate now and then.  I do like the girls but they do talk a LOT about their children.  Lots and lots and lots.  How they manage to carry the burden of having such perfect children intrigues me.

I love how they all say that when their kids get to teenage years they won't let them wear certain clothes (girls).  Or they won't let them on the computer or Xbox (boys).  Or they will make them play outside.  I think they have a rule book that gets handed out to some parents.  The "How to be a Perfect Parent" book of rules.  Rules, rules and more rules.  My book has a few rules.  Keep lines of communication open is one.  Set good examples is the another.  I think I may have had a modified book of perfect parenting rules when my son was younger but has long been disposed of.

I hate the word "rules".  It suggests a lack of personal freedom of choice.  I am not talking about the rules of school, society and work.  They are a given and you need to follow guidelines and have standards to meet.  I get all that. But when it comes to young people I like to think of the concept of conditions, consequences, ethics, boundaries and things that require a person to think about what they are doing.  I know that seems airy fairy and I think it is a reaction to my own very rule driven upbringing but it seems to work.

Anyway, each child is different and I suppose some need strict guidelines and rules and others work well with a flexible approach.  It's not like they are made of putty and you can get one and just squeeze it into some shape.  When I see the differences between my husband and his sister I can see how important it is to approach each child differently and sometimes, no matter how good the parenting, some kids will be harder work than others.

Hence the reason for being flexible with those predetermined rules.

Anyway, enough of that.  There is no answer, no rules. You just do your best and that is it.

The other week my son had to get new school pants.  His ankles were almost showing in the old ones and there was no option to take the hem down.  I have to now take up his new trousers.  I wish I could do a blind stitch.  I was shown when I was about 14 years old but that is now a lost skill.  The option to get it done at the dressmakers was there but I have left the run too late and now will be doing it on Thursday night.  I shall have to make sure I am extra neat and tidy and use the correct coloured thread.

I have so many sewing projects to finish off.  A couple of skirts.  Some crafty thing I bought last year.  I have patterns that I have bought with the intention of making my own clothes.  Simple patterns. Then I spend ages trying to find material I like online.  I have bought some and still it waits for my attention.  This year I hope to organise myself a bit better and do more of these enjoyable things.  Hmmm, don't I say that every year?  If I were to read through my blog over the past six years I am sure I have uttered those words time and time again.

I just realised that today is six years of blogging.  Six years.  That is just incredible.  I feel I am a different person in a way when I think back to the first post I did.  Different in a good way.  More grown up and aware.  Life is so liquid when I think about it.  Just a Lava Lamp at work, moving around and you can only grab bits of it as it revolves around you.  You think you contain it but it just shifts around and beneath you.   Will I keep blogging?  I expect so.  Sometimes I don't feel like it but I just see that as a phase.

At the moment I am slowly saving posts into a Word programme.  A laborious task in itself.  I would hate to lose this blog as there is a lot of my life that I would have forgotten about in it.  Conversations recorded.  Days out noted.  Things that are small and random at the time but fantastic to read about later.  I doubt I would have been so consistent had I hand written it all.  It is easier for me to type up what is on my mind and things flow a bit better.

Next week is the second last stage of things being finished at home.  The kitchen/family room floor is getting repolished.  After 20 years of being walked across it is going to be refreshed. However, we have to live at the front of the house all week while it is being done.  So, no access to my kitchen.  No access to the laundry and no access to the office.  We have to share MY bathroom (vomit) and go out the front door  and down the drive way to get the the back verandah if we want to get food out of the fridge.  I think eating out is going to be back on the cards.  I will have to sit on my bed to watch television, something I rather like the thought of actually.

So this weekend we will squeeze all the furniture into a couple of rooms.  The couch has to go outside on the back verandah and covered up.  Get all the washing and ironing done.  Remember to put the kettle outside so that we can have cups of tea.  At least I can go out to the studio and potter around when it gets a bit crowded.

Once the floor is polished we can move all the furniture back where it should be.  Unpack boxes of books and put them back on the shelves.  Get the house back to normal.  Finish off the last few cosmetic things and that is it for the next 25 years!

Oh,  look.  What a long post.  However I have been working in between it all and have actually achieved a lot more than I thought I would.

I should sign off now and stop blathering.

Ciao
LC

Sunday 29th January Post

Having had four sunny days off you may think I did a load of wonderful things.   

But you know, I just schlepped it.  

On Thursday I did got for a walk from home to the beach.  Not a very long one.  About an hour.  It was stinking hot and even though it was around 4.30 I actually got a bit pink from the sun on a place I neglected to apply some sunscreen.   I had intended to walk back home but I thought it would be nice for K and S to come down and have something to eat.  

I took a few photos while waiting for them. 

 I love t-trees.  They are so gnarly and parched looking.  They even look like this in winter.

By the time K and S arrived the coffee shop had shut so we had to go and find somewhere else to eat.  We ended up at a trendy hamburger shop.  They don't make greasy burgers.  They make healthy ones.  And they cater for vegans.  They taste home made which is nice for a change. 

The thing is,  it was kind of weird sitting having a take away dinner when, the day beforehand, my uber Ilve stove had been installed in the kitchen.  However, I could not cook on it much because the range hood has not been connected.  And the range hood has not been connected because the ducting is very complicated. 

To tell you the truth, I am a bit scared of the oven.  It has a digital clock.  And programmable things.  I got K to light the oven because I was anxious.  I can light old ovens but not new ones.  Well, you know what I mean.  I did not want to make a mistake.  This was a mans job.  This new one has to have the door fully open to light the gas.  Then you have to leave it open for three minutes before shutting it.  Weird.  But I don't care.  It looks nice.

There is a rotisserie thingy in it.  There is no way I would use it because it means I would have to clean the oven.  Fuck that.  Oh, well, I will clean it when it needs a clean but I would not cook some fat splattering dinner in it.  That would be testing my care factor a bit much.  

So K lights the oven and I had to leave it on for an hour to burn the factory residue off the insides.  Tonight I am going to bake a cake or something.  It will be very different because it is fan forced and a fast oven compared to the 1960's one I have been using for a while. 

On the Friday I had to go and get my son's school books and he came with.  It was another stinking hot day outside and the place that sold the books was hot inside.  It was crowded and it was understaffed.  We got the books and then joined the queue,  After half an hour I rang K and asked him to come and pick up S because the queue was moving and a snails pace.  So he was picked up and I was left waiting.  It took over an hour to get to the register and get served.

The place had a portable evaporative cooler on and they did their best to make the wait less unpleasant for everyone.  There was water available and I made the mistake of drinking some and subsequently need to go to the toilet for ages.  A toilet trip was not an option.  I was not giving up that space.   By the time I got home I was hot, sweaty, dying to pee and had frizzy hair.  But at least I had the books.

After that K and I went to hire a fancy dress costume and drove to some inner city suburb that seemed to take forever to get to.  We are going to a 40th next Saturday and the theme is 1920's.  I hired the most fabulous costume and cannot wait to wear it.  I think it has been over ten years since I went to a fancy dress party.

My son has a new pet.  A blue tongue lizard.  It belonged to my sister in law (K's sister) but she found it hard to look after because she has not been that well.  He has it in his bedroom is a tank.  He loves it.  Introduced it to his toys.

It is very tame.  Does not do much.  Eats.  Sleeps and sticks it tongue out now and then.  But S is very keen on it and plays with it during the day.  I love lizards and snakes.  But a snake is out of the question.  K hates them as much as I hate spiders.

Today I woke up in one of those snitchy moods.  I was anxious (boo hoo) and just agitated.  Went off to the shops to buy a birthday present and got there before the heat of the day was too much.  All went well. Made a good choice and got home around lunch time.  Missed the crowds and the heat.

Later on I went into the studio and cleaned up.  I wanted to start on something but noticed that the paper I wanted to use had been wet and was now mouldy.  I think it happened last year when a lot of supplies in the old studio got wet during the flood.  So I decided to go to the local art shop and buy some more.  I had a gift voucher from my birthday.  K came with as he had cabin fever.  He loathes the hot weather and feels trapped when we have a few days of it.

So, we get to the store and the woman comes out the door and starts to take some display stuff in.  She looked most put out that we were coming in.  I asked her if she was open much longer and she said that they were open for another 25 minutes and that the sale that they had on would end then.  I said "oooookay" in that voice that suggests "gee, sorry for putting you out" because she spoke in a "what are you doing here I want to shut the door early" voice.  Not welcoming at all.

I picked a few things and went to the counter.  The girl there added it up and took of the sale discount.  There was a saving of $40.  When I handed her the voucher she said that the discount did not apply to vouchers.  I asked why not and the door bitch explained something about the money has already been allowed for and some other fucking stupid thing.  Mentioned that she had been through this so many times.  Well, not with me lovey is what I wanted to say.  Cow.  Instead I gave her one of my inscrutable looks that suggests I am saying one thing but thinking another.  I know the looks because my son gives them to me often.  It is one of those nice family traits we share.

I mean, a voucher is cash in my mind and why should I be penalised for wanting to use it during a sale.  I did not want to discuss it because I knew that my "patience 'o' metre" was very low and I would have been unbearably rude and I don't want that.  So I said "I see".

She then said I could use cash instead and save the voucher for another time.  Now, at that point my childish tantrum throwing self started to come out and I said that I would rather use the voucher thank you.  So the price went up again and I was left with a balance of $17.50 on the voucher.

As she handed me my bag of items I deliberately looked over her head at something out the window and did not say thank you.  Just took the bag, kept a conversation going with K and walked out the door.

Then I did this most childish thing.  I am a bit embarrassed to confess it but it was the most satisfying tantrum.  I took the voucher out and, within their view, casually tore it up and flicked it in the rubbish bin outside. It was a case of cutting off my nose to spite my face but it was worth the sacrifice of $17.50.

As I did it I remarked to K something like "well, I am not coming back here so why keep it".  Or words to that effect.

There was no logic to my actions but there was a great deal of puerile enjoyment.

There may have been a principle thing going in my head.  I don't know.  But it cost me money which is most unlike me.

Anyway, I had actually found a better art shop to go to.  Plus buying online is so much cheaper.

Damn, I wish I had told them that.

It's always afterwards you think of everything you could have said.

Then again, it is usually better to have said not much at all.

I still have a bag of nice things to play with though.  

And a great excuse to go online now to buy.

Ciao
LC

King Island

Sometimes, just for fun, I like reading about "dates from Hell".  For no reason other than to amuse myself.  I have not had many dates from Hell.  I think that there are good ones and not so good ones.  One of the girls in our Oxfam team is my age and on the dating scene and we do get a few stories which are pretty funny.  But not mean, just funny.

There is not doubt that the world of meeting another person has changed hugely.  Internet dating has become the norm.  Having several long term relationships is more common.   There's "friends with benefits" kind of relationships.  You know, having sex with someone who is okay for friendship until a better kind of someone comes along.   Casual hook ups.  Long term marriages end and middle aged people are thrown into the world of dating.  I imagine that to be a scary thing.

At least it is more common now to be divorced or single.  Years ago women in particular were coined as spinsters or somehow pitied because they had not got themselves a man to marry.  As though life meant nothing unless one had a man.

You know, I don't expect my son to marry.  Or not to marry.  I presume he will have a girlfriend one day but I never presume he will marry.  I never think I will be a grandparent.  It's not in my head.  Not even as a "one day" kind of thing.  If I had a daughter I would think the same.  I neither encourage nor discourage marriage.  There are no expectations in regards to that.  All I would like is for my son to navigate his way through life the best way possible.   Should he meet a person he thinks enough of to marry then that is good.  But it is not the be all and end all.

One thing is for sure, whoever he meets will have had a few relationships beforehand.  When I was growing up you thought your parents had no life prior to having children.  Your mother definitely had no boyfriends before she met your mother.  Or never talked about it.

My son knows that I went out with few guys before I met K.  A private school pratt was one.  Followed by a misogynist wanker.  There were a few non sexual prospects out there.  They would have liked sex but I did not fancy them at all.  The odd totally forgotten ones.

Anyway,  just before I met my future husband, I was asked out by a guy who had come into my parents business and spoken to me about something.  A few days later he rang back and asked me out.  I could not recall at all what he looked like and hesitated before he pestered me enough to say yes.

That weekend he turned up to pick me up.  I was 21 and I think he was about 45.  Not a healthy and fit 45 either.  Especially in the eyes of a peachy 21 year old.  He wore a cravat and had a black leather jacket on.  Blue jeans tucked into brown leather boots.  Pretty much bald.  To tell you the truth, in my then very young eyes he looked like an old fart.  To me these days he would look like the average middle aged man.

So we went out.  Somewhere forgettable.

He was a classic Baby Boomer.  Grew up in the glorious 1950's.  Travelled overseas for years living the life of dope smoking, guitar playing, flares wearing and sexually free time that it was.  He did two stints in Vietnam and then lived the life of a hippy.

Then, like everyone, he got old and decided to buy a place and settle down.  The thing was, although his outer shell was that of an old bloke, his inner shell was still that of a young man.  And that is fine because in myself I still retain my younger self.  It's me.  But I am realistic about my older self.  Were I to find myself in a position where I was going have to date again you can bet I would not be putting myself forward to men who were 21.  Whereas this guy whose head was still full of a vigour of his youth only wanted to go out with females my age because older women were, well, too old.

So, this man (I'll call him Rod)  and I go out now and then and no long after I meet K so there is no way that the relationship is going to go any further with Rod.  Two reasons.  I don't fancy him and he is too old for me.  But he does not see that he is too old for me as he feels so young and full of life.  

During out hanging out together (not to be mistaken with FWB's) we decide to make a trip to King Island.  Well, I decided to go and he just invited himself along and I was too polite to tell him to fuck off.

Four days were booked and off we went.  We stayed in a place with separated bed rooms which completely gutted him.  He was thinking that we were going to have a shag fest.  Hope springs eternal I suppose.  No matter I made it very clear before leaving.

After two nights he was so unpleasant to me and full of anger that I was forced to book a flight back early.  He did the same.  The trouble is that only one place goes to and from that place and we were the only two humans on board.  The rest of the place was chock full of live crayfish stuffed into sacks.  We sat in semi silence as the plane flew back over the Bass Strait,  the humming of the engine and the ticking sound of the crayfish the only noise.

When we got back to the airport my brother picked me up and I did not speak to Rod for ages.  Then one day he rang up to apologise and invited K and I over to his place for a BBQ.

He finally did meet an incredibly beautiful Turkish girl called Tina (I think that was her name).  She was 28 years old and so deliciously lovely but I did think their match a bit strange.  Her English was okay but they were so different.  They got engaged.  We went to a celebration of their engagement at his house.

Previous to this get together her mother had held a big family celebration for the engagement and there were lots of people and family.  Food and music.  All captured on video.  So Rod puts on the video for us to watch.

As we are watching a person comes into the view of the movie.  It's an older man, grey hair and a bit overweight.  My husband to be leant forward to get a closer look and asked - quite innocently - "Who is that old guy? Is that Tina's father?"

There was a rather horrible silence before someone said "No, it's Rod".

We then made some polite excuses and headed home.  It was as though someone uttered an hideous truth.

The engagement ended not long after.  Something about the age difference.

He rang me up about ten years ago to say hello.

I though of him recently when I saw some promotional thing about King Island.  That is a place I cannot think about without connecting it with him.

It's a very beautiful place to visit.  Small, interesting and different.

But not very romantic.

Ha ha.

Ciao
LC

Thursday Holiday

It is Thursday and I am not at work.

It is a public holiday.  Australia Day.  There will be lots of flag waiving down at local parks and beaches but I won't be one of them.

I also have tomorrow off.  Australia is known as the land of the long weekends due to the numerous public holidays we have that often fall just prior to the weekend.  Many people will be taking Friday off.  I would have gone into work but Bossman is a great believer in all staff having time off to spend with friends and family.

This morning I was meant to get up early and do a bootcamp exercise class with my husband down along the beach.  I woke up and decided not too.  Well, it was not as easy as that.  I lay in bed and thought about how much I hate doing hard exercise in the morning because it sucks the life out of me for the rest of the day.

I am not talking about going for a walk like I did last Sunday.  That is fine.  It is the "running along sand holding a big car tyre over your head" kind of exercise I hate.   It also tends to go with "running up lots of steps and then down those same steps and then run along the sand and then do loads of push ups and then mountain climbers and how about some squats" activities as well.  Then I get home dog tired and spend all afternoon resisting the urge to have a sleep only to fall asleep in the chair in front of the television later on.

So, once I got over the incredible guilt of not doing the class I went back to sleep until 9.00 am in the morning and now, at almost 3pm, I am not tired at all.  But I will be heading off for a 15km walk soon.  There is no way I could not do something.  No exercise means highly agitated Linda at Large.

This week has been a busy week in my house with the kitchen benches installed and also with the arrival of the stove.  Life is getting back to normal.  Not that I can complain that it has been difficult.  It has just been intrusive.

In fact, recently I have had an aversion to doing any serious complaining at all.  A while ago I made some whiney remark about something trivial and my son said "Oh, a First World Whinge" or something like that.  I felt a bit embarrassed, despite the fact that he meant it as a joke.  It reminds me of the first few times that I went to therapy and the therapist said something along the lines of not minimising my own problems.

He asked me if I felt that a soldier who fought in a war and came home with injuries was more entitled to complain that I would about my own internal naval gazing problems.  By the way, he did not say naval gazing problems but I am adding that because that is how I see my own shit.  And he also worded what I am relaying in a much more professional way. But I cannot recall the details because it was too professional for me remember but I have not forgotten the gist of it.

And I said that the soldier was entitled to complain more.  Maybe complain is not the right word.  Maybe I mean that he was entitled to express his difficulties more and to have these issues validated.

It is all about perspective isn't it?  I could whine about anything and everything but the reality is I have nothing really concrete to seriously vent about.  It is in my nature to just think that there are people who have such significant struggles in life that anything I may feel grievous about is petty.

Or if I vent I don't want to be seen as ungrateful.  I just want to have a bit of a whinge and that is it.

Anyway, the past few weeks have been very strange for me in a way.  For the first time in what seems like forever I have not been waking up with anxiety and having to carry it around all day.  I cannot think of a time when I have not had chronic anxiety.  Depression is crap but anxiety is just tops that for me. The physicality of it is hideous.

I have no doubt that the extra, extra exercise has contributed to this change, as has getting fairly solid sleep.  A break over Christmas was good.  Recharging batteries. Lots of hot sunshine.

Now you would think I would be happy about that wouldn't you?   Well, part of me isn't.

For me, anxiety has been a very good driver.  It had become a part of me and now it is gone and I miss it. I do.  I miss the horrible monster that it is.  I don't miss the physical aspect of it, that pressure in my chest and head and just that anxious state that is always there.  But I miss the challenge of combating it or using it do motivate me to do more things or to be a better person.  Although, I am doing more things I suppose and maybe that is why it has dissipated.

The busier I am and the more I exercise then the less anxious I feel.  So, what happens when I don't want to be busy or feel like a break from exercise?  Or the sun is not shining so hot in the sky and giving me strength?  Will it come back like a sneaky rat?

The anxiety has gone and the melancholy feeling has settled enough not to intrude on my thoughts each day.   My sleep is solid but I cannot say I feel refreshed.  I could sleep for ten hours and still roll out of bed like a zombie.  But the main thing is that, on the whole, my sleep is not being interrupted by me waking up all through the night.  That makes it easier for me to manage my physical and mental well being.

As the anxiety has taken a break,  I feel like my inner bitchiness has come out.  Now, I am not sure if I am bitchy or just assertive and that the conditioning of women is that when they are assertive they are made out to be difficult or bitchy.  

But, quite frankly, right now, I could not give a fuck.

I think I may just enjoy being anxiety free for as long as I can and if it means I may offend others,  be a bit snappy or just do whatever I want then that is okay with me.  I cannot think of the last time I feel free of anxiety of it for as long as this.

It gives me the chance to just relax.  Plus the chance to rebuild my personal confidence and work out some new goals to achieve.  When I am anxious and depressed I spend a fairly decent amount of time working at not allowing it to infect my life to the point where my work and home life are not functioning. It is all very tiring.

I'll try not to be anxious about the prospect of the anxiety coming back.

In the meantime, part of the process of keeping things calm is to go for that long walk.

So off I go.

Ciao
LC

Sunday Slog

I had another training walk today.  Last week was checkpoint 1 to checkpoint 2 of the Oxfam walk.  This week was checkpoint 2 to check point 3 and back.  A round trip of 32 km's.

Left my place at about 6.30 am on a clear and warm morning which was heading into an extremely hot day.  I checked the websites to see if any of the tracks were closed but, sadly, none were.

We went in my car because I have a GPS and none of us had a road map book.  Not that that would make a difference because none of us seem to be able to read maps very well.

The GPS kindly took us to a dead end.  It made me laugh because just as I left home I thought to myself how funny it was that people who use a GPS sometimes end up in dead ends or other stupid places.

However, we found our way to the place we needed to go which was Lysterfield Lake Park.  It is a very busy place for bike riders due to the fantastic bush tracks they can ride on.

We had kind of forgotten this as a checkpoint during the Oxfam walk last year.  But we absolutely forgot how long the walk was to the next checkpoint.  Also forgot how hilly it was.  Last year we were unable to train on many sections of the track (including this section) due to flood damage.  We were heading to Ferny Creek.

The weather was HOT.  It was at least 36 Celsius which I think translates to about 97 Fahrenheit.  Fortunately the morning was reasonably cool so we only had to contend with the misery of the hills that seemed never ended.  But that was still over three hours of it.

On the way back, however, it was fiercely hot and there were many areas of walking track that were devoid of shade.  It was extremely windy and that wind was northerly and mean.  The way back was also psychologically challenging because of the heat and the tracks just were so looooooong.

At one point we had all run out of energy despite eating a big lunch and plenty of lollies.  So we stopped off and bought bottles of sugary coke and that was so much better than any sports drink.  It fired us up for a good hour.  Then it was back to water and lollies.

By the time we got back to the starting point we were very tired and possibly a bit dehydrated from the heat and wind.  A sit down at the park cafe to have coffee revived us enough to get home.

Next week there is no training.  We all want a week off.

So, what did we think of it all as we walked along?  It was the single most unpleasant walk but the fact we did it was a good achievement.  There was some whining at different times.  The higher and harder the incline, the whinier we became.   Just prior to the half way mark I was hungry and needed a toilet trip and my whinging faded into silent grumpiness.  Once I attended to those two needs I was fine.

Despite frequent applications of sun screen we all got burnt.  It was windburn which is hard to avoid.  By the time we got back to the car we were soaked to the skin with sweat and covered with dust that stuck to our sunscreen layered arms.  One of the girls had a severe reaction to some plants that brushed against her legs.  She has serious allergies and carries and EpiPen around in case she has an anaphylactic shock from something.  We all know how, when and where to use it.   She also stepped on a snake lying across a path.  It moved almost as quick as her back into the bush.  It is snake season right now so it was no surprise really.

When I got home I was so grateful for the shower.  Also for the fact that K went out at stocked the freezer with nice things.  He also did a lot of painting in the house.

Two hours later I have recovered nicely.  Just tired and pleased with what we did today.

So, that is my Sunday.

Ciao
LC