Beaches and Visiting the Past

February 2, 2016February 2, 2016 raphaela999 Comments

We met up with some families this week at Bondi Beach. It’s a lovely trip by bus from the city, and you get to meet some real characters. On our last trip, we came across a regal ninety year old woman, dressed to the nines. My daughter still talks about her, and she has provided a point of reference for the possibilities offered in older age. I had put 50+ sunscreen on my daughter, and myself, though I neglected my neck, to my peril. It was cool and overcast when we arrived, a dangerously deceptive combination. It didn’t take long for the sun to burst forth, in all it’s sizzling glory. There was something special about being at Bondi Beach, particularly when you don’t have the hassle of obtaining parking. A bus is the way to go! The kids had great fun, alternating between the beach and pool.

The next morning, we got up and did it all again, this time going to Balmoral Beach. On the way, we had cupcakes and ice cream at The Classic Cupcake Co. in Double Bay. Oh my goodness! Made from natural ingredients, they were a taste of heaven. I had the Midnight Mint Cupcake.

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As we made our way to the beach, we witnessed a near-collision in Double Bay. An inch more and the cars would have hit. The woman who had nearly caused the accident decided to come into our lane in her ostentatious car. My friend beeped at her to warn her that we were too close behind, and the other driver made some very rude gestures! She was perfectly coiffed, aged in her fifties and old enough to know better. Money can’t buy class! The kids ran to the water, whilst we ordered chips and potato scallops. I smiled as seagulls gathered around. I fancy myself as a Bird Woman, whom understands their secret language. “I will give you a chip or two,” I smiled. “Just let me open the box.” Out of nowhere, a seagull swooped and its claws scraped the side of my face. Another one followed suit, and it pecked my face as it searched for a chip. “Little buggers!” I cried! “P*%$ off!” They were vicious; intent on stealing chips, and there were so many gathered that we were forced to move off the beach. I had never seen anything like it! Normally, birds love me! They followed us to a table, and fortunately, a Pomeranian named Romeo gallantly chased them away. The brave little dog received lots of pats from the kids!

We caught a train to an inner-city stop, and as we waited for my daughter’s dad to drive us home, I decided to show my little girl where we once lived. It was a semi-detached house in a grand old street, shaded by towering trees. I got a real kick out of pointing out where our Aboriginal neighbour lived, as well as two elderly sisters, now departed from this world. I stopped at the gate to our former abode, picturing myself at 20. I was writing and had started my business here, creating art for shops in Newtown and the city. I had also started my journey of infertility here, having been given a strong injection which was promised to slow the progression of endometriosis (which they hadn’t determined I had). Instead of making me feel better, it caused side-effects so violent that I was bed-ridden for a good year. It was here I feared I would never have my daughter, and it was here I wished with all my heart that I would.

As I glanced up at canopy of trees, I was appalled that I had ceased to appreciate them properly at the time. They don’t preserve streets and grand architecture as they used to; like they did on this particular street. My daughter was taken with the street art, and the park at the end of the street. As I watched her roll down a hill and perform cartwheels, my throat constricted with emotion. The amount of times I sat on that very hill in that little park… Dreaming of having a child, and of what life might be.

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I sat next to her, and told her of the life I lived long before she arrived. I talked of my hopes and dreams, and also of my fears. I hadn’t been back to the street for many years. I can still hear the mail being dropped through the slot in our door. I can still feel the warmth from the old gas oven in the kitchen I painted turquoise. I can see me. I haven’t changed that much, except that I am weathered. We all get weathered along the way, to varying degrees. Distressed and shabbily chic. I am glad I thought to take her back. I hope that the girl on the hill could feel our visitation through time and space. I hope she could sense that she was going to be okay. I hope she could sense the little girl doing cartwheels nearby. I am glad I got too see the canopy of trees, as if for the first time.

My Birthday

February 1, 2016 raphaela9935 Comments

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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

January 26, 2016January 31, 2016 raphaela995 Comments

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.

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.

Gnomes and Destiny

January 11, 2016January 12, 2016 raphaela998 Comments

When I was nineteen, I started a business, selling my art and poetry, as well as crystals and curiosities at markets and on consignment. I was extremely busy during this ten-year period, particularly when I reflect on all the surgery I had at the same time! I lived in a grungy, funky part of Sydney, and would often walk down the street to hang out at the all-night bookstore and grab some fabulous Indian food. I was into ceramics, and had my Greenware fired in the kiln of a nearby business, before painting them. I only managed to hang onto two of my pieces from this time. Before I left the area, I retrieved them from the shop where they had recently been placed…

I haven’t paid them much mind in the intervening years, only to gift them a smile as I passed them in my living room. I have pared back my commitments since Christmas, and have made time to clean and reflect, de-clutter and organize my home. I stopped yesterday and studied my little friends, reflecting on a time when I had created and painted, written and pottered. I recalled the nights spent painstakingly painting them; the joy I felt when what I had created was bought. I looked closer, and noted that they hadn’t been cleaned for a while. Getting a wipe, I lovingly set to work. I turned them over, and there on the base was my daughter’s name, a daughter I wouldn’t have for another decade. I don’t know why I had thought to send them off with the following: Painted with love by E.Rose.

A chill went through me. When I had finally fallen pregnant with IVF, I had another name altogether picked out for this baby, if it was a girl. In my eighth month, I dreamed of her, and she said that her name was E. Rose. (full name obscured to protect privacy). I changed her name accordingly. I had no recollection of ever signing my work with her name years before. How many hundreds of times had I done so? I called to her and told her the story and she was as delighted as I. “You knew me even then! You loved and wanted me before I was here!” I certainly did. Slowing down and having time to notice my little gnomes gave me a great gift. My daughter was intrinsically entwined in my younger years, letting herself be known, even on an unconscious level. When you say “I can’t do this anymore,” and allow yourself to slow, it’s amazing what you notice. Gnomes may even hold a breath-taking, thrilling message, just for you.

2015 in review

December 30, 2015 raphaela992 Comments

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.

Traditions, Christmas, Darkness and Light

December 21, 2015December 21, 2015 raphaela991 Comment

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.

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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Sydney and the Wonder of Christmas

December 15, 2015 raphaela996 Comments

12289651_1058672524166592_6198241402834796503_n Today, we remember the two beautiful lives lost at the Lindt café in Martin Place on this day, a year ago. I was going to go in with my daughter, to meet a friend and her child. We were going to meet at Martin Place, and would have been in the café that very morning, but my spine was playing up. I stayed home instead. Life can be so indiscriminate. The survivors have been so very brave this past year, as have the families of those who didn’t make it out. How they have carried themselves is awe-inspiring. I pray for you all today. Anniversaries are so very hard.

Life is outrageously busy, with many things demanding our attention. You need to escape once in a while. My daughter and I travelled to Martin Place a few weeks ago, to see the Christmas Tree lit up. Light rain tapped onto our faces as we watched the concert, my daughter dancing and cartwheeling throughout. The tree was switched on, and fireworks rocketed into the sky. Elves arrived, cycling a sleigh as Santa and the City of Sydney Mayor, Clover Moore, reclined.

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Strangers need to gather together. We have a yearning for connection. It felt like the beginning of Christmas on this evening. By returning to Martin Place, people heal it. We honour those who were lost, and remember what the survivors endured. In a world gone mad, watching a child dance is an act of sanity.

Christmas can be tough. I have personally heard stories of alcoholism, child abuse, domestic violence, poverty and estrangements this past week. I wish I could banish all the agony, but I cant. I can provide a listening ear and what resources I have. I can love and extend myself. Everything is made larger at Christmas. Overtures of kindness and gatherings of loved ones… Loneliness and pain. Always look for the helpers. Those who listen and smile. Those with kind eyes and warm hearts. That is where hope resides. I hope that you get to attend a free gathering, no matter what your spiritual leaning. It gets you out of your own head and into the world of people and connection. May you have a peaceful season, floating on a calm and azure-blue sea. I pray that if you need help, you receive it. Let people hear your voice. For some, it has been silent for too long. You have been invisible for too long. Let them hear what you need. If the first person doesn’t get it, blame it on a faulty connection and try again with somebody else. Keep going. I am so glad that I did. I got to see my daughter dance in the light rain. I got to see people smiling and hugging in Martin Place. I got to see hope.

My little girl attended a Christmas party hosted by her singing teacher, Tiah. This young lady has brought our children the gift of song, and our little people have gained not only their voice, but confidence. She is studying at university, and I know she shall make a fine music teacher upon graduating. I am so thankful this whacky, quirky young lady is in our lives.

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We went to an event to benefit the MS society the next day, cornflour mixed with a rainbow of colour.

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Messy and chaotic, vibrant and as joyful as life itself. We were scheduled to be at Martin Place a year ago, but at the last moment, we weren’t. I remember resting in bed, my spine in spasms, when I heard what had happened. More responsibility to live a good life in honour of those who were there. Life is precious, and can end in an instant. The trick is to fully live whilst you are here.

The Move-A Saga of Crooks and Christmas Wonder

December 9, 2015 raphaela9921 Comments

Last week, we moved house. It has been a long time coming. Five years in one home was a record for me, and it wasn’t even comfortable. It didn’t feel like a sanctuary. You get “stuck” in a place or situation without realizing it, and the thought of moving… Friends dropped boxes off throughout the past six months, and I slowly packed them and moved them into the garage. I thought I had de-cluttered sufficiently. We organized mover’s and cleaners so that we wouldn’t have to ask anyone for help. I geared myself up for the inevitable pain I would face with the rigours of moving, and my spine didn’t disappoint. A few days before, I lost control of my right arm and my bladder. Half of my spine went numb; the other portion was agonizing. I was amazed at my ability to peak before the main event! I told loved ones that I would sort out the new place within four days then have a good rest. After a period of a week, I would return to society. I was rather pleased that I had a hired team and wouldn’t require any assistance.

The day arrived, and I couldn’t wait. I had swept up all my memories, and was taking only the good with me. I went to the new place early, imagining where everything would go. I noted that the movers had put some boxes in the garage, and remarked to my friend that they were “lovely young men.” They didn’t make a reappearance and I was told that they weren’t at our old place either. We rang their mobile but it was switched off. “They must have gone to lunch,” I kept repeating to myself. We rang their boss who informed us that they had left and weren’t coming back. They had taken their fee from the credit card! Crap!!! We had a full house of furniture to transport and half a day to do it in. Hurriedly hiring a truck, we asked if anyone was around who could help. A fellow listened to our tale of woe at the reception area when we got the truck, and would you believe he turned out to be one of our new neighbours! He insisted on helping. Mums, children and men gathered, and the moving began. I burst into tears when I saw more friends alight from cars. Some brought food and cold drinks. An elderly fellow around the street from our old place was one of those who offered. It was a heat wave and I was astounded when they brought in wall units and fridges with a big smile on their sweaty faces.

I kept saying “thankyou,” until they could bear it no longer and demanded I be quiet. I heard the children laughing and playing together in the garden. We had a gathering of good people, sitting under a fan, sharing their lives. An elderly man told me about being a ward of the state and growing up in an orphanage and how he is shy and lonely. “You are doing okay with this group!” I assured him. He mentioned what lovely friends I had, and I nodded. “They’re the best.” They brought in our old tattered furniture with great care, the last of the group leaving at 11pm. The next day, we informed the movers that we would go to the Department of Fair Trading if the money wasn’t put back in our account and begrudgingly, they relented.

Beautiful furniture was left at our door-gifts from a dear friend- and food was delivered. What a dichotomy, to experience scoundrels and angels on the same day. I went out to the garage and looked on in dismay at the multitude of boxes stacked to the ceiling. Why had I kept so much? I could have halved it before the move! I felt overwhelmed as to where to start. A little dog from across the street broke away from its elderly neighbour and ran into my garage. It lifted its leg and peed on a box. I laughed and laughed. Maybe it was a sign?! I organized the house within four days, and then crawled into bed. I am about to re-emerge from my cave.

We couldn’t have our Christmas Tree up at the old place as there was no room. By a miracle, it was the first box we unpacked, and we set about decorating it. As each ornament was slid onto a branch, we gave thanks. Thankfulness for new beginnings, a beautiful home and for the best friends anyone could have. I have learnt that it is okay to ask for help, and that whilst there are scammers and shysters’ creeping around, waiting to pounce, there are more good people in this world. On the 1st December, I felt the power of the Christmas Spirit. It is love, kindness and servitude. It blessed my new home with its presence.

The Be Thankful Challenge

November 11, 2015November 11, 2015 raphaela995 Comments

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The wondrous Danica has nominated me for the Be Thankful Challenge. I am thankful for this honour! Check out Danica’s blog for excellent content!

Challenge Rules

Share this image in your blog post
• Write about 5 people in your life you are thankful for
• Write about 5 things in 2015 that you are thankful for
• Spread the love and challenge 5 other blogs to take part

5 People in my life that I am thankful for.

I am honoured to have many beautiful people in my life, and am finding it difficult to narrow the selection down to 5!

I hereby will give a shout-out to those in the following categories:

1. Those who inspire me with their individuality and creativity. Those with whom I can talk for hours about art, literature, love and colour.

2. Those who have woken from a dark dream and have the battle scars to prove it. They woke up shackled and in the dark, and through their own efforts have broken the chains. These survivors are lighting their path. I am in awe and inspired by these courageous spirits.

3. The comedians. We all have those people who are irreverent and mischievous and make us smile. They make life worth living with their lightness of being.

4. The friends who are there in illness and in health. Those who seem to instinctively know that you require an intervention in the form of lunch or a walk.

5. The people you can be yourself with. No masks. If you are in pain, you don’t have to fudge it. You are accepted with your grief, sadness, joy and silliness.

5 Things I am grateful for in 2015

1. Home schooling my daughter. We have met many wonderful parents and kids and were warmly welcomed into the community. She has had many great opportunities as a result. It has been a thrill to see her flourish.

2. My beautiful friends. It has been a whirlwind of a year, and they have supported me and understood when I was snowed under.

3. Moving house. After five years in a place we have outgrown, we are looking forward to new adventures. I am looking forward to fresh energy and a new start.

4. I am thankful for the simple things. Sunshine, tea cups and teapots, books and art galleries, bird song and guinea pigs. I am thankful for laughter and shelter and music. I am thankful I am still here.

5. I am thankful that I had a few little breaks away this year. Even a few days away makes a world of difference.

I nominate the following to take part in the challenge!

1. The Confusing Middle.

2. Another Bad Conversation

3. The Colourful Kind

4. Life In My Tin Can

5. Know the Sphere

Sculptures By the Sea

November 4, 2015 raphaela9916 Comments

Last week I was bedridden. Throwing up, headaches, fevers and unable to breathe properly. It takes a great deal to send me to bed. Either I can’t stand on my feet due to spinal pain or breathing is difficult due to pneumonia. My daughter made her lunch each day and got out her workbooks. I was so very proud of her. Sculptures by the Sea was on in Sydney, and I thought that the ocean air may help my recovery. We departed early, the sky an ominous grey. By the time we left Museum Station, a storm had begun. The wind was ferocious, and turned my sturdy umbrella into a weapon. We found a café to take shelter in. The barista was a delightful young lady from Wales, and I was entranced by her accent. I couldn’t understand a thing she was saying, mind you! I asked for a coffee in a mug as big as my head and my request was granted.

My child and I discussed cancelling our trip to the ocean walk to see the sculptures. My mind started with its anxiety reel. What if my phone runs out of battery and we get lost? What if our Opal cards run out of money and we can’t top them up? How will we get back from Bondi? What if there is torrential rain? I noted that two friends and their kids were going to brave it. They posted that the weather was much better on the coast. Another friend mentioned that she and her son had danced in the rain the day before and had a ball. My daughter looked at me, and said in a determined voice, “Remember our motto? The Angelou girls never give in and never give up.” Trapped by my own motto! It astounds me the way we try to talk ourselves out of new experiences; out of adventures. We found the bus we were to take, and enjoyed a pleasant trip through the Eastern Suburbs. The only hitch was that I went the wrong way when trying to find Tamarama Park. We walked in circles, my anxiety growing stronger. What if my phone goes flat, what if our Opal cards run out, what if we are lost… What if I am not enough for this amazing daughter of mine? She squeezed my hand and smiled, “it’s okay if we can’t find it. Being together is what it’s about.” I gave it one more try, and to our delight, we found it!

The ocean air did indeed clear my lungs and head. It was like magic! It was quiet, given the wind and mild temperature. The sun was hidden, but the beauty wasn’t. Somehow it made the scene all the more haunting. The children climbed rocks and sprayed each other with this enormous bottle.

They ran barefoot and wild, just as a child should be. As one of them swung on monkey bars, performing daredevil tricks, I overheard two young women as they went by. “Look at that little girl! I love that she has no fear.” I told my friend what they had said about her child, and she smiled. She said that older people usually criticize her lack of terror at her child’s antics! My daughter found a wishing pot and made a special wish.

We could taste the salt on our lips, feel it in our hair. It was like fairy dust, a light smattering of medicine. For two hours, the children played games, laughed, ran and discussed the sculptures. These two spoke of some of the issues of their generation. The ‘Barbie Wave’ was created from thousands of discarded dolls, and spoke to our rampant consumerism. The child holding their phone and sitting mesmerized spoke of our obsession with technology.

As we were leaving, we came across a massive blackboard a resident had placed outside her home.

We only stayed two hours, as our friends had to get back to the car or face a hefty fine, but time seemed to be fluid, rather than linear. We caught the bus back into town with a cacophony of smiling people. A lady in her 90’s regaled us with her stories. Today taught me that I am enough for my daughter. I am going to be okay and I shouldn’t let fear stop me from doing anything. If the Opal Card or phone had run out of power, I would still be okay. There is a big world out there to explore, and there are more magnanimous people than bad.