Category: Friendship.

Valentine’s Day

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I minded a friend’s little girl the weekend just past. It had been a sad week leading up to it, as we had lost our budgie to old age. I was feeling a bit low, as was my daughter. The two girls set to making craft, and I was ushered out of the room. On Valentine’s Day, I was instructed to keep my eyes shut, whilst they led me outside…

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The girls had strewn rose petals into heart formations. The fan was to help calm me when my spinal pain is severe. My little girl had written me a note, and it said, ‘I know how hard you tried to have me so I am doing this very small thing for you.’ These two gave me the greatest gift I have ever had. The other little girl couldn’t wait to give her mum the things she had made either.
             We had a special dinner, baking whole orange cakes. The girls had fun decorating them, and eating the leftover cream cheese icing!    

  
Love comes to us in many forms. It appears as an animal, a song or a tree providing shade. It comes forth within a friend. The love I felt from these two precious girls on Sunday morning  was  enough to keep me soaring throughout 2016.  I had expected nothing for Valentine’s Day, and these two had given me everything.

Friends met on buses

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I take buses to transport my daughter to her various activities. We have a bus stop outside our home, and it proves much easier than driving to the station. I have met many characters on public transport; from the chatty young lady going to her first job, through to an eighty year old on her way to  volunteer work. The other day, I got talking to a beautiful woman in her fifties. She disclosed that she was on her way to her job, four hours away on the Central Coast! She had met her partner, and moved to my area, but still had to travel for work. I was aghast. She had to stay on the Central Coast a few nights a week, and was keen to get local work. She was from the Philippine’s and had owned her own business, travelling the world. I admire people who come to a new country, leaving loved ones and careers. I can only imagine how it feels to start anew. She regaled me with stories of her travels, and her favourite places. I put the word out and many wonderful friends came up with suggestions as to where she could find work.

The next day, I chatted to a lady with a broad smile. She works in a local nursing home and is having treatment for breast cancer. Her hair is starting to come back, and she is delighted to find that it is silky and superior to the hair she had before chemo. She asked what she could use for her dry skin, and I suggested coconut oil. It’s cheap and effective! It was awe-inspiring to see this lady snatch back her life from cancer’s grip. She said it was an amazing feeling, to be able to work; to go out and feel like herself again. She gets weary easily, and is factoring in plenty of rest time too.

Catching the local bus is a way to find connection in your local community. The stories you hear and the people you meet… It’s humbling. Sometimes it is easier to disclose the contents of your heart to a stranger. Sometimes a stranger becomes a cherished friend. I am glad I am not limited to travelling in my own tin can; insular and disconnected. It is quite a feeling, to receive a hug from a fellow passenger at journey’s end.

Memories Of 1969

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This lady has quite a story to tell about 1969 in Sydney! Check it out!

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1969 was a year of big changes for me. You might say it was my first venture into adulthood – I became an Aunty for the first time; I left school at not quite 15; moved from Penrith to live with my Aunty at Rozelle; and went job hunting on my first Monday in the big smoke (Sydney).

My first job interview was at McDowell’s department store. The personnel officer was Mrs O’Donnell, a lovely lady. I asked her if I could have a job in the “button department”, as my brothers girlfriend use to work there. She smiled and asked me my age and why I wanted to leave school so young. I replied with “My Mum left my Dad, I’m living with my Aunty…”. In fact, the poor lady got my life history and family woes in just a few minutes, you know those days when you really…

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Friends for Life

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When one is undergoing IVF, it is imperative that one has contact with people who understand what you are going through. I was lucky enough to meet these two fabulous ladies-amongst many beauties-online during my first tenuous attempts. We made each other laugh and we provided shoulders to cry on. Nobody else understood our acronyms, such as epu and tww. Nobody else could get a take on how emotions could swing from giggles and sweetness to unadulterated rage in moments. Louise came and visited me when I had endometriosis surgery in 2007. My daughter was a newborn when Lou came to my door with flowers and food. She had never seen me in person before, and here she was, feeding me lunch whilst I stumbled to the living room, clad in pyjamas with wild hair. That is the gift of friends, isn’t it? You don’t need to put on an act, nor window dress. When someone can see that far into your eyes as to obtain your soul, what’s the point? We can say anything, and none of us bat an eyelid.

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We have laughed about ridiculous things, and gasped in wonder at each other’s life events. One of these ladies has a dog who has been uncovered to be a hermaphrodite. It only makes the little dog more unique in our eyes. They came over with their hard-won families and we hung out for several hours. I was happy listening to their chatter, bursting in with occasional mirth at how absurd the conversation was. They walked with me through the hell that is infertility, and I am so glad that they are in my life.

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We are planning adventures for later this year. Australia, you have been warned!

My Birthday

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I had (another) birthday! For someone who wasn’t predicted to reach 16, they are coming around in rapid succession these days! I get self-conscious and usually don’t organize anything for my birthday.  I get frightened that I wont receive a reply. I have to work on the long-held belief that people will leave me. I have set up a life of independence to make sure that I am not in that position. I feel like a child, shyly asking others to come hang out with me. Some dear ones know me (frighteningly) well, and took it out of my hands. I went to the movies with a treasured soul-sister the evening before, and we laughed hard! The local council even put on a fireworks display, and we parked and talked as we watched the champagne crackers glitter and shimmer.

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The next morning, I woke to a knock at the door, and three friends were standing there, with breakfast for us all. I was touched by their kindness and we enjoyed a feast of pastries, fruit and coffee. My birthday was to be a busy day, of doctor’s appointments and going to a friend’s for a catch-up. I was waiting on a lovely cedar dining table and chairs to be delivered before I could go out. I had purchased them from a second-hand shop-extremely cheaply-and someone else had organized delivery, then notified me. Time passed, and there was still no sign of the furniture. I messaged my friend to apologize, hoping I may get there later. I ended up having to cancel the doctor’s visit, as by mid-afternoon there was stil no sign of the table and chairs. I was on the phone to the store when a friend called in. She spilled the beans that I had missed a little surprise party in my honor! I was mortified, particularly when the store told me that they did deliveries to my area the next day! I had stayed home for nothing! It meant the world to me that these three ladies wanted to spend time with me on my birthday, and even though I didn’t get over, I will carry their thoughtfulness with me all my days.

In the evening, four friends took me out and we enjoyed a meal at a Cuban restaurant. We laughed and were silly and I felt celebrated, enough to carry me through another year.

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My little girl performed a dance and song for me, and presented me with poems, cards and clay ornaments she had made. The whole day meant so much to me, even though I missed my own surprise party! I have to overcome my fear of being rejected and left alone. I am trying to reach out more and plan fun things with others. I am not that child left looking out the door of a clinic, waiting for visitors that don’t show up. I am surrounded by good people. I have to be brave enough to let them in.

   
   

Australian Gnome Convention

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Here I am, gentle reader, on the 26th January. I attended the Australian Gnome Convention in the Blue Mountains. The Rotary Club put on a spectacular festival. There were Gnome books, DVD’s, humans and dogs dressed as Gnomes as well as thousands of real Gnomes on display.

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In a world that is heavy and a life that is hectic, to be surrounded by whimsy was wondrous. I met an extraordinary felt artist, and to my delight, she offered to teach my daughter and I. We listened to poets and a high school band of ukulele players. They played modern songs and even a little Fleetwood Mac! Man, I want to learn how to play my ukulele properly! There is something about this little instrument that urges others to join, which is why we have an upcoming festival in Katoomba, dedicated to the ukulele. We were entranced by young  singers and delighted by Maria Venuti, she of the large personality and um, voice.

I surround myself with performers and artists because without their inclusion, life is beige. There would be blandness, cookie-cutter identities, and no alternate ways of interpreting life. Bah to that! My soul leapt to the beat of my soaring heart when I heard the entertainment. I caught up with my poet friend, Brian Bell. He is an extraordinary talent, whose range knows no bounds. We both had abstract drawings done by his friend, Richard Cutler, an artist of fifty years standing. No matter how much time has passed, Brian and I just pick up where we left off. I met him for the first time when I was in my early twenties and continued encountering him on the poetry circuit. We have some marvellous talks, Brian and I.

After being surrounded by music and performance, clay and Gnomes, felt and wood-turning, I was loathe to return to normality. Who am I kidding! My life has never been normal, and I can’t do normal. My clothes, hair, home, outlook, friends, daughter, birds, and everyday life are quirky and whimsical. I can’t change that and nor would I want to.

I returned with a trail of enchantment following me, like bread crumbs dropped by Hansel and Gretel.

 

 

The Future

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Yesterday, I chatted to a friend’s ten-year old son, and was left feeling inspired. We were chatting about books when he informed me that he loves taking photos. “I would love to see some of your pictures,” I smiled and he shyly brought them up on his IPad. They were some of the most beautiful images I have ever seen. He managed to capture the minutiae of a rock pool, as well as a close-up of a bottle brush. I had seen these things scores of times, but never in the manner in which he presented them. My heart ached at the images he showed me. He then talked of his passion for film-making and on my urging, showed me some short films he had made with his little sister. They made me laugh with delight. He was spot-on with his storylines, background scenes and sound effects. What a thrill it is when you are allowed a sneak-peak of a young person’s talent, and where their future may lead! He kindly gave me details of apps he utilizes so I can try my hand at film-making with my daughter.

I emerged from my cave this week the cracks reinforced with gold-and went to a local dam (which supplies Sydney’s water), for a picnic. The children played as I was sequestered away by a gentle breeze, tempering the heat. I observed the water gushing down into the dam, and thought about how we are all ultimately a mere drop. That being said, we are all vitally important to the whole. The world would be forever changed if you hadn’t taken your place within it. That thought blows my mind. On days we feel impotent, it is worth remembering. As I watched the mighty flow of water, I thought of the intricate processes needed to fill a reservoir.

We have school holidays here in Australia, until the end of January, and we are spending the final weeks seeing friends and hopefully getting out on the water. We have had torrential rains and storms, and ferocious heatwaves. Australia is a land of extremes. The time for contemplation has passed and I welcome another season. Time seemed to stand still yesterday, as I talked to this young man. Within him are mighty talents and lofty dreams. I look forward to cheering him on throughout the years ahead.

2015 in review

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As we embark on a New Year, I would like to say thankyou for reading my blog. In turn, I have alternately  been moved to tears, laughter and happiness by your writing. May you have a blessed 2016. I have a feeling it will be a better year for us all. xxx

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 14,000 times in 2015. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 5 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Festivities of 2015

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At a time when I wanted to be up and running, my back screamed ‘no!’  Pain medication was upped and I have needed to lay flat in between all the craziness of the season. I know I shall require further surgery, but there is a lot to consider. Two people who are dear to me have had major issues since their spinal operations. It is indeed a risky business. There is also the cost, rehabilitation and time spent recovering to think about. It does my head in. My neurosurgeon has said that it will provide no relief from pain, though structurally shall be necessary. I wait and I breathe through it. I hope to get through 2016 without surgery. I am going to plan better and have adequate rest between outings. Adapting and accepting what is… No more running around. It has been good, this stopping. I didn’t have Wi-Fi until yesterday, and I lost my phone somewhere in our new home. I pottered and played games with my daughter. We talked and organized. It was grand.

I made a trip into Sydney before Christmas, and caught up with these wonderful friends. There was torrential rain, and we got wet as we explored our ever-changing city. Anything can happen in Sydney, and you meet wondrous characters, such as this cluster of elves.

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We went to see some local lights with two majestic Samoyed’s and didn’t get far as everyone wanted to pat, photograph and talk to them! They did meet The Grinch and Santa Claus, however.

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Christmas Day, we went to our friend Dianne’s for lunch. She had a lovely assortment of relatives and friends at her place, and Santa even made an appearance! I sampled Yorkshire pudding, bread and butter sauce, trifle and a vegetarian feast. Dianne loves Christmas, and by the time you leave her house, you tend to adore it too. The warmth around that table was outstanding. It was a celebratory feast, for Dianne has faced the eye of a storm and is still standing. How she did it, I just don’t know.

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My daughter expressed concern about Santa’s lack of a tummy. He is English, as it turns out, and fond of running marathons in thongs. I love seeing Australia through this UK family’s eyes. They point out things I have failed to notice, and make me fall in love with Oz anew. Whether it be a native tree, or a whimsical birdsong, it is all appreciated.

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We then went to our friend Mel’s house to be with her family. I may have brought my blender and prepared Mojito’s, as well as a cocktail of fresh peaches and champagne. Mel’s mum complained that her Mojito wasn’t strong enough (the other grown-ups watered it down with soda water), and I felt vindicated! Channing Tatum was brought out, as per tradition, and made to pose. The girls performed a delightful dance, and we played games. There was sadness, as my friend lost her father this year. His absence was felt acutely. We held onto each other; how I wished I could change the events of 2015 for them all. Why does the world tend to lose good people early? I had to excuse myself once or twice to dab my eyes. I shall always treasure this gentle man, and the qualities he carried. I hope that you all have men in your lives with similar traits.

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I received some beautiful gifts. Amongst them was a folder I discovered on my doorstep. I thought it so clever. The take a break bag contained tea and chocolate. The pamper pack contained bath salts and a tea light candle. There was a pen, a calendar, inspirational cards to cut out, colouring in and strategies to help you cope when you are finding it hard. Such a heartfelt and precious gift.

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My friend had also included knitted bracelets and incense in her wondrous care package.

I received this 2016 Memories bottle from Dianne and her family.

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Isn’t this a beautiful idea? I shall fill it to the brim with every kindness shown me. Every occasion that has sweetened my life shall be noted.

Boxes for Christmas  is a local organization, that gives people living in aged care facilities their only Christmas present. These people never receive visitors. Imagine their joy upon receiving a gift from someone who cares on Christmas Day. I thought it was a brilliant idea! I was  touched that a friend purchased a box in my name.

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It was a quiet Christmas, and one of great physical pain, but friends made it bright, and my daughter had a magical time as a result. My back used to be made of steel rods, and I was rigid. Now is the time for fluidity and acceptance. As I age, my spine is deteriorating. There have been mornings when it’s just too much, and I think of going to hospital. I know that if I did, I would be back on the trajectory of scans, surgeons and theatre. I am not ready. So, I whimper in the shower, spray a concoction that burns and provides comfort, and do my brace up tight. Whilst there are friends and birds, children and light in the world, I will continue, just at a slower pace. May 2016 bring this world the peace it so desperately craves. May it begin with us.

 

 

 

 

 

Traditions, Christmas, Darkness and Light

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Can you feel it too? There is loneliness and pain, darkness and light flitting about the earth.  Christmas Day in Australia is taking place on a full moon. You can’t get more intense than that! People seem to be exhausted and have let traditions slip. Annual get-togethers haven’t happened, and events attended each Christmas have been neglected. I was feeling melancholy, then realized that I haven’t been to a carol service, local markets, nor caught up with friends. All the things that make life lighter and give you something to look forward to. The only event we went to was the lighting of the Martin Place Christmas Tree, and I was finding it hard to sustain the Christmas spirit until I went to a loved one’s house and was gifted these blankets.

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Hand-made in Ethiopia, their sale benefits Hamlin Fistula Ethiopia, an organization founded by Dr Catherine Hamlin, whom still does the rounds of the hospital in her 90’s. I had tears when my daughter and I were gifted these blankets. Young women had crafted them a world away. The fact is, one can be in Ethiopia in a day. Restoring these women’s dignity restores us all. I will treasure these blankets all my days.

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My little girl asked me to close my eyes Saturday afternoon, and presented me with this little girl, aptly called Noel. I have wanted a cockatiel for the longest time and am delighted with this addition to our family. I couldn’t have asked for a more thoughtful and wondrous gift! It has been cute watching our little birds desperate to impress her with their songs and tricks. She adores them, and loves going into their house and hanging out with them. Whilst birds and thoughtful kids, blankets and people such as Dr Catherine Hamlin are in the world, life is great.

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It has been a new frontier, starting home schooling. I identified as the ‘school mum,’  helping out, and attending assemblies and concerts, carols, fetes and movies. I think we have both felt a little adrift this season as a result. It is a whole new way of life, and we are so grateful that she will be seeing her old school friends as well as new friends through the holidays. I am so grateful to my friend Lisa, who is a librarian. She brings around books aimed at dyslexic kids. The stories are engaging and it is a joy to watch my daughter read. We are getting there with building up her confidence. This lady contacted me, explaining we had mutual friends and that she would like to help. Help you have, beautiful one.

I have had periods of ferocious flashbacks and what those in the know term ‘the horrors.’ Aptly titled. Trying to function whilst your heart is in your throat and your voice is unable to relay what is going on inside your mind… We have needed to stop, and just be together. We all need to stop once in a while and have nowhere to go and nothing to do. There has been a lapse in traditions this season. I love the story I heard of a lady who goes on a long walk and picks flowers with her children before opening the gifts around the tree Christmas morning. This week, I shall be honouring some of my standards, and it will seem I am being drip-fed light. It will feel like Christmas. I wish there was time to see everyone I want to, and go to everything I desire to. Time is a cruel master on this earth, and you can only do what you can do.

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Moving has brought home to me how much we tolerate. I am sleeping better here, and am certainly much more content. How I lasted in the former place, I don’t know. You become used to unpleasant situations, but then it reaches a point when you break and say, “I can’t do this anymore!” In the breaking down, there comes the breakthrough that you need. It is so quiet here, and the fragrant roses continue to bloom. Life isn’t perfect, and there are challenges, but at least I can be alone with my thoughts. This is the home that love and friendship built, after all. I shall never forget everyone’s kindness.

Go gently through this season, and please, be kind to yourself. I think we will look back on 2015 as the year of dramatic change, with people leaving and lives being shaken to their core. We are almost through it, kids. As I watch Noel throw her water dish from her platform, I smile. She looks at me, as though saying, “what do you think of them apples?” I think those apples are fabulous, as I do this life. So much is out of our control, but if we adhere to our traditions, we can take refuge in what is familiar and safe. That is what I shall be doing this week, and it shall feel great.

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