Category Archives: Personal

What’s on your Saturday to-do list?

Here’s mine:

  1. Get up and join group for Jacob’s Ladder experience – do JL 4 times and run up and down Mount St Hill twice.  Completed.
  2. Stand in pool for 20 minutes to help my aching legs (apparently it’s what you do).  Done.
  3. Eat breakfast, fruit salad.  Done.
  4. Blog.  Nearly complete.
  5. Get hair dyed, temporary rinse.  9.45
  6. Exercise my democratic right.  Vote!  I just LOVE elections.
  7. Take sewing machine to repair shop.
  8. Iron black trousers for tonight.
  9. See if I can fit in a massage or tomorrow will be hell… depends on Mum.
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  11. Go to work.

How much fun is election night eh?  And tonight’s looks to be a doozy.  

Centrebet last night had brought down the price of the Libs to $3.10 and the latest poll looks like the Libs by a landslide.  I tend to believe the punters though – they are after all putting their money where their mouth’s at and with Labor at a dollar something… well? 

At any rate with all the changed boundaries and new seats and new independents it will be a fun night… and I get to work in the Tally Room!  W00t!  

In other news, standing on top of Jacob’s Ladder today – pictured – I looked down at those white trees I was telling you about earlier – and you can really see where the birds have been – if you know what I mean.  I was heartened by another in our group saying that she went past them all the time too and thought they had died because of all the building dust.  

Jacob’s Ladder meanwhile, I’ve learned refers to to a ladder to heaven, described in the Book of Genesis, which the biblical patriarch Jacob envisions during his flight from his brother Esau.  

I think it’s more of a ladder to HELL!

OMG my legs are sore.

Anyhoo gotta go – hair appointment!

Hope you get your to do list done. 🙂

How embarrassment!

Spring has sprung

This my lime tree – in flower again while on some branches ripe fruit hangs. I think it’s confused.

It really has nothing to do with this post except to say if you sucked on a wedge of lime your face might resemble the look on the person’s face when you say something – or do something really embarrassing.

Have you ever done that?

Something to this day you regret saying, that you would curl up with remorse, that you would really like to take back.

I’m sure there have been hundreds of moments for me but one that I will never forget is talking with a mate about the term MILF… you know…. Mothers I’d like to F….  Someone else (who I was sure was gay but hadn’t come out) came up and asked what we were talking about and this mate says… you know MILF – don’t you think Cellobella is MILF?  Oh, I say, I don’t think I’m his type.  What do you mean?  OMG I could have died.
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Some very awkward backpedalling.

And as I said, a face like he’d just sucked something sour.

Lets not mention the “when are you due” question – THAT MUST NEVER BE ASKED!

I can even remember once canoeing with this boy I rather fancied… I was about 15.  He fell out of his canoe and I DIVED in to go to his aid.  When I came to the surface he was, of course, not needing my help (I’m not even a strong swimmer) and I back-paddled to look as if I was just going for a swim… as you do.

Canoes are for noobs, right?

Leaving home

The ceiling was high, the walls white, the furniture dark and shabby. There was a leadlight window looking over a green courtyard. A single bed. A wastepaper basket.

Outside, playful shouts echoed off the high red brick walls. Joy as friends caught up after a long hot summer break. New. Shy. I stayed in my room and observed.

The room smelled of cleaning fluid and new books. The crisp scent of stationary straight from the box. Deodorant and toothpaste on the glass shelf above the sink.

It was like being on school camp for a year. I felt grown up. Responsible and excited. I was at college. Outer A 6 for those that can guess the place. I had left home.

Leaving home has never been hard for me. Not really. There’s always been a reason, an excitement to it and my parents were never ones to apply emotional blackmail to stay.
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And now I’ve left home again. Well… left my virtual home or host. I’ve changed from a United States host to an Australian.

Perhaps it was because of the nationalistic fervour surrounding the Olympic Games, but mostly I think it was because of an admiration of the person behind the host that has developed over the year on Aussie Bloggers.

Thanks for adding me to your stable Snos.

🙂

(And Admin)

Taking rainbows for granted

Guest post from Groover

There is an old proverb which says “The best place to hide a leaf is in a forest”. In other words, a nice way to say: “sometimes we fail to notice the things that are right under our nose”. I met a new Australian the other day who had recently arrived here in Perth from the UK and without knowing she pointed out a leaf in our forest.

rainbow

During the the usual exchange of ex-Pom niceties she said something which struck a chord, “I have seen more rainbows here in Perth in the past 2 months than in an entire lifetime of living in London!”. It’s true, the inclement skies of Northern Europe rarely treat its citizens with the full-on glory of a spectacular rainbow. Yet here in Perth, nature frequently rewards us with ostentatious displays of colour across the horizon.
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I’d forgotten how special this minor miracle is and how good it makes me feel.

It got me wondering. We’re surrounded by rainbows. The smell of slow-cooked garlic and rosemary lamb-shanks wafting through the house on a winter’s day. Watching my 11-year-old daughter smile to herself as she reads a book. We spend lots of our lives looking at life through the lens of a half-full glass and yet nature is constantly playing full out in the game and we barely notice.

What rainbows are happening in your life that you are taking for granted?

What do you really want to do?

sepia reflectionsOkay okay I’m at a conference with my colleagues and okay okay it is true that at a conference you are likely to drink slightly more than you would otherwise. Am I not correct?

You know I am correct.

Well tonight after retiring to a attendee’s room we eventually discussed this question: “If you were financially able to take time off to do the one job you’ve always wanted to do – what would it be?”

Here are the answers… as I remember them:

  • An English teacher to migrants who for whatever reason had to learn English at home
  • An organiser of activities for latch key children
  • Work with vulnerable teenagers – doing the “brat camp” thing… sort of.

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What did I want to do?

If I could organise it, I would sign up for a scientific expedition. Anywhere. Somewhere in the outback perhaps.

That is my dream.

What’s yours?

Creative Commons License photo credit: tysonA

Have I missed a fashion moment here?


I found this image on Faking Good Breeding who pointed me toward an article on this very subject.

I saw Sex in the City the other night with some girlfriends – as you do – and enjoyed it. No I did. It was fun, flirtatious and frivolous. Perfect chick flickery.

But.

(C’mon you knew there was a but)

What was with the black bra backs? On several occasions Carrie Bradshaw (SJP’s character) wears a low backed dress and has the back of her bra on display.

Since when did that become acceptable?
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Who didn’t send me that memo?! Frankly I wish you had because lets face it girls if we don’t have to care that your bra isn’t hidden… doesn’t it make life easier?

Forget all those tricky uphostery jobbies with weird extra long bra straps that wind around you everywhere except your back in order to give you some nipple protection… just show off that bra strap!

No need for dimmers, just wear your good old faithful with your slinky LBD. Preferably black of course.

I thought I was joking too until coming back into the hotel tonight I spied a woman – who must have been past 50 (or not so careful with her skin routine), she was wearing super high heels, peroxided long hair, and a slinky black backless dress with black bra-strap showing.

Now I’m wondering… could this really be a fashion trend?

Which side of the bed do you sleep on?

Yes I'm in bed... so?

In all the years we’ve been together Groover and I have always claimed the same sides of the bed… that is – he always sleeps on the left side, I get the right. Or the other way around depending on which end of the bed you’re on.

It doesn’t matter where we are. In our bed at home, on holiday, camping, it just feels wrong on the other side.

Even when he is away I still claim my side of the bed.

Until last night.

You see our bed is getting on and the mattress is noticeably sinking where we usually lie. Two grooves.

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I know as soon as he returns I’ll sink back into the burrow of my side and it will feel normal again, but for now it kind of feels like I’m on holiday. Racily spreading out my wings and daring to claim the middle ground.

How about you? Do you have “a side” that you have to sleep on?

Lets look at the bed from the end of the bed – are you on the right? Or on the left?

I wonder if anyone has done a study on whether men prefer the right and women prefer the left because thinking about it… my parents are the same… dad on the left, mum on the right.

I wonder if it’s the opposite in the Northern Hemisphere?

The etiquette of dropping in

Bringing muffins can leave you with egg on your faceA comment from Kelley made me think about “The Drop In”. She hates them.

I like them. Generally love them in fact. But I can see why she might not.

Three simple rules

There are a few things you need to consider:

  1. Know your friend

    Is she a casual dresser? Does she keep her house in a reasonably good state? Does she care what state it is in when people come calling? What is happening in her life now? If she has a new boyfriend – she might not appreciate the casual visitor at 9am on a Sunday morning.

  2. Choose a respectable hour

    In other words – don’t drop in too early or too late. You may not be greeted with the friendliness you expect. 🙂

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  4. Be prepared for rejection

    Okay this sounds a bit harsh because they are not rejecting you per se, but they might be unable or unwilling to see you right then. I don’t care how far you’ve come – it doesn’t matter that you’ve caught two trains and three buses to get there. Lets face it – this was your choice. And not everyone likes surprises.

    You never know… you might have put your friend in an awkward situation. Maybe they were about to meet up with another friend who you don’t get on with – maybe that friend is already in the kitchen. She might have her new man in the boudoir – or her old one. Maybe she is just very busy and has organised her day to get stuff that has to be done, done. Maybe her hair is in rollers and her house is a tip and she just doesn’t want to be seen like that.

    …guilt leads to resentment and anger…

    Whatever. Don’t take it personally. Don’t make your friend feel guilty because they can’t see you – no matter how trivial you think the reason is – because guilt leads to resentment and anger – and do you really want them to resent you?

    Yes, even if you bring muffins – be prepared for rejection.

  5. The safest thing to do is to CALL FIRST.

    Having said all that – I do still love the drop-in. Especially on a day like today when I’m bored and looking for something to do.

    Maybe I could come round and visit you?

The facts about fiction

I got up this morning – bleary eyed – after a late night with friends at ours. We’d played Singstar (oh my poor neighbours), 500 and Visualeyes and it is possible that the Kahlua flowed a little too freely.

Falling into the black leather computer chair, before even putting on the kettle or cleaning the kitchen this morning, I checked this blog. Sonia (whose been known to tell a tale or two in her time) had commented overnight and my Entrecard widget was now showing Ken Armstong’s Writing Stuff.

I don’t know much about young Ken. He’s a playwright. He lives in Ireland. He’s close to my age. He tells a good story. I like him.

Looking for a shamrock

Yes there’s definitely a touch of the Blarney about him.

Today he writes about how he “enhances” his stories to tell a tale. How he weaves facts from different events into a story.

Immediately I was inspired to try it out. I write for a living. How hard can it be?

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Perhaps I am more literal than literary.

The interesting thing about Ken’s post today is that by “enhancing” his story he arrives closer to the truth than the bare facts would allow.

And that is the magic of fiction.

When we read a novel, short story or play, we are taken not only to a new place, a new situation, but we experience new emotions. You can’t tell someone to “feel sad now – this is the sad bit”. It has to be contained within the writing to take you to that place within yourself… to make you reach for that tissue box.

Having read Ken’s analysis I find myself thinking that writing a story is much like creating a soup. A little bit of this, a little bit of that… the whole greater than the sum of it’s parts. From that boiled and bubbled cauldron comes a little bit of magic.

Which reminds me – I’d really better be getting on with cleaning the kitchen.

How do you react to deadlines?

Me, I love deadlines – and a daily deadline is the best. Long term projects I end up doing at the last minute anyway so they feel like a daily deadline.

Freshwater Bay

Take this speech I am giving tomorrow night. I’ve known about it for weeks. And I’ve been gathering bits and pieces to put in it over that time and doing a lot of thinking but I’ve not been able to gear myself up to write it until tonight. Tonight. I am ashamed to write it down. But it is just the way I’ve always been.

The more nervous I am the harder I find it to get started. I’m a bit nervous. Public speaking is nothing like radio.

Interestingly it’s the opposite with Groover – the more nervous he is, the more he prepares until he over-prepares and (he says) loses all his spontaneity.

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Having said that, because I’ve lived with my topic for so long now and because I’m interested in it – I found it very easy to write and hopefully deliver tomorrow.

I was the same with exams – especially the big ones – and job interviews.

And I know I’m doing it! I just can’t seem to make myself change my behaviour.

So what about you? Are you a last-minute Laurissa or a pre-prepared Pete?