I'm putting this photo up here as a reference, should this info eventually make its way to Quentin. Apparently it's taken after the Dubbo Zoo Fun Run in about 1990. Paul is on the left of the shot, Quentin on the right.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Searching for Quentin
Paul is looking for an old running friend (old friend, that is, not old person), named Quentin Morley.
I'm putting this photo up here as a reference, should this info eventually make its way to Quentin. Apparently it's taken after the Dubbo Zoo Fun Run in about 1990. Paul is on the left of the shot, Quentin on the right.
I'm putting this photo up here as a reference, should this info eventually make its way to Quentin. Apparently it's taken after the Dubbo Zoo Fun Run in about 1990. Paul is on the left of the shot, Quentin on the right.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Friday, October 19, 2012
A snippet, aka Finding the meaning in pink hair.
The Do is a week and a half old now, and three days into pink-ness. I have observed quite a few things since going short (and now pink):
- Some people do judge others by their appearance, and treat them accordingly. It would seem that it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a lady with very short hair (now bleached and pink) and black glasses, must be in want of a wife (Jane Austen, and my gay friends, forgive me. And in a way, I'm loving the raised eyebrows, in solidarity).
- However, the people who matter, don't judge by appearances. Even if they don't like or don't understand what they see. They find it within themselves to be accepting, kind, stalwart, empathising, encouraging - and it doesn't seem to require any extra effort on their parts.
That had me reflecting, on what a simple, but enormously generous gift someone gives you, when they treat you well, regardless of your situation in life. Acceptance, respect, gestures of kindness, can be so uplifting, they can remove the sting of much awfulness, the pain of much discouragement and difficulty. When I think back on the times when I have been the recipient of someone's thoughtfulness, empathy and recognition, it's the essence of those moments that stays with me. Even if it's only a well-timed smile, or the sharing of a story, it makes such a difference in the richness of life. I need to know more about kindness. I can feel a new reading project coming on...
In other trivial moments, No. 1 daughter and I were discussing what I should do next, with the Do. She suggested topiary.
- Some people do judge others by their appearance, and treat them accordingly. It would seem that it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a lady with very short hair (now bleached and pink) and black glasses, must be in want of a wife (Jane Austen, and my gay friends, forgive me. And in a way, I'm loving the raised eyebrows, in solidarity).
- However, the people who matter, don't judge by appearances. Even if they don't like or don't understand what they see. They find it within themselves to be accepting, kind, stalwart, empathising, encouraging - and it doesn't seem to require any extra effort on their parts.
That had me reflecting, on what a simple, but enormously generous gift someone gives you, when they treat you well, regardless of your situation in life. Acceptance, respect, gestures of kindness, can be so uplifting, they can remove the sting of much awfulness, the pain of much discouragement and difficulty. When I think back on the times when I have been the recipient of someone's thoughtfulness, empathy and recognition, it's the essence of those moments that stays with me. Even if it's only a well-timed smile, or the sharing of a story, it makes such a difference in the richness of life. I need to know more about kindness. I can feel a new reading project coming on...
In other trivial moments, No. 1 daughter and I were discussing what I should do next, with the Do. She suggested topiary.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Why I Shaved My Head...
Back again, after 8 or so months, most of it spent without a computer. You'll be glad to know I wrote many posts for my blog in that time - all in my head, while showering, hanging washing, commuting (esp. that last one - a 3.25 hr daily commute 2 days a week adds up to 26 hours a month on a train). To my 5 readers (no, I'm flattering myself!) - to my 3 readers, I apologise. But at this point, why bother covering the year-that-was, let's just jump to NOW -
BLW, I'd like to say I don't know what I was thinking, but in fact I knew exactly what I was thinking. I was thinking lots of things. And did them.
I know there's lots of blogs out there, where people touch so many readers with their writing on people they love, people they've known, people they've read about, who are dealing with cancer and dealing with loss. It's such a good process, in helping the writer express their feelings and their grief, and helping readers, who hear their own inner voice reflected in what they're reading.
This is not one of those blog posts. Although if it was, I could write about my son's best-friend's dad, who passed away last month, who was a great dad to his boys, and to mine when they were all hanging out together, as they did. He taught the boys to cook, to BBQ, to drink in moderation, to love people, to dream, and to do. He was big into doing things. All sorts of projects went from dream to reality with this guy. He built a catamaran from scratch, in his garage (and out of the garage, under a tarp when it got too big). And while he was doing all this stuff, his boys (and mine) were alongside, maybe only doing their teenage stuff in parallel, but still they saw it all, and there was always an open invitation to have a go and join in. He loved his boys, he was proud of his boys, and he showed it. I only met him a few times - everything else I know about him came from my son, who spent a good bit of his growing up years as the 'extra child' in this man's home.
The kind of love and acceptance he gave these kids, was enabling, and awesome. Together as friends, they aren't frightened to have a go at something, even if it involves making many mistakes, and they aren't sure how it will all turn out. (I put their recent forays into car improvements into the latter category). He taught them all sorts of stuff, not formally, but by doing it, and just being who he was. He walked alongside his boys as long as he could, and when he left this life, he left his boys so much, with skill, love, 'how-to', 'get-on-with-it', and 'bugger-what-anyone-else-thinks'. They will, in their own way, be men in their dad's image, and that is something I can't be sad about.
And so.
To another lovely friend, whose stock-standard greeting to me, as her voice sails across the room, is "How are you, gorgeous girl?" - a tall lady, with bold strides, bold humour, and a manner about her that can lift a whole room into good spirits. She is in the middle of treatment, still greeting me the same way, and wearing the most awesome blonde wig, that never has a bad hair day.
To these special people in my life, I doff my cap. And my hair :-), gone to be 1/6 of a wig for someone with cancer.
BLW, I'd like to say I don't know what I was thinking, but in fact I knew exactly what I was thinking. I was thinking lots of things. And did them.
I know there's lots of blogs out there, where people touch so many readers with their writing on people they love, people they've known, people they've read about, who are dealing with cancer and dealing with loss. It's such a good process, in helping the writer express their feelings and their grief, and helping readers, who hear their own inner voice reflected in what they're reading.
This is not one of those blog posts. Although if it was, I could write about my son's best-friend's dad, who passed away last month, who was a great dad to his boys, and to mine when they were all hanging out together, as they did. He taught the boys to cook, to BBQ, to drink in moderation, to love people, to dream, and to do. He was big into doing things. All sorts of projects went from dream to reality with this guy. He built a catamaran from scratch, in his garage (and out of the garage, under a tarp when it got too big). And while he was doing all this stuff, his boys (and mine) were alongside, maybe only doing their teenage stuff in parallel, but still they saw it all, and there was always an open invitation to have a go and join in. He loved his boys, he was proud of his boys, and he showed it. I only met him a few times - everything else I know about him came from my son, who spent a good bit of his growing up years as the 'extra child' in this man's home.
The kind of love and acceptance he gave these kids, was enabling, and awesome. Together as friends, they aren't frightened to have a go at something, even if it involves making many mistakes, and they aren't sure how it will all turn out. (I put their recent forays into car improvements into the latter category). He taught them all sorts of stuff, not formally, but by doing it, and just being who he was. He walked alongside his boys as long as he could, and when he left this life, he left his boys so much, with skill, love, 'how-to', 'get-on-with-it', and 'bugger-what-anyone-else-thinks'. They will, in their own way, be men in their dad's image, and that is something I can't be sad about.
And so.
To another lovely friend, whose stock-standard greeting to me, as her voice sails across the room, is "How are you, gorgeous girl?" - a tall lady, with bold strides, bold humour, and a manner about her that can lift a whole room into good spirits. She is in the middle of treatment, still greeting me the same way, and wearing the most awesome blonde wig, that never has a bad hair day.
To these special people in my life, I doff my cap. And my hair :-), gone to be 1/6 of a wig for someone with cancer.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik
I found some CDs at the Op-shop yesterday, while I had my 3 older kids out shopping for Christmas presents -> all done in one stop at the Salvos (Salvation Army thrift store, for my O/S readers :-). Back to the CDs. Only with my oldest, and next-to-youngest along, have I ever noticed the CD towers, over near the books. They are made from the same mold, those two kids - the kind of people who always stop to smell the roses, maybe take a picture, or render a quick sketch or watercolour of the roses. You know the type. And I have two of them.
So, I found the CDs. And bought... ... a synthesiser Bach compilation (because I like Bach so much, it will sound good to me, even on a synthesiser!); a Tchaikovsky ballet compilation, and an ABC (our version of your NBC, or CBC in Canada) disc compiled for dinner parties (Track 1 is Handel's "Arrival of the Queen of Sheba" - must be one of the most beautiful pieces ever written).
Today I popped out to the stores to get the youngest two to have haircuts (before we lose Knox under his long blond hair), got some shortbread to give our neighbours on each side (yeah, yeah, I should bake, but then what if it tastes gosh-awful, and they'd never say? Plus I have a way of leaving out a key ingredient when I'm making things for special occasions). With that, I think I'm done with preparations for the holidays.
Oh. Except wrapping gifts. I wonder if it's quicker to sew little baggies for the gifts? Maybe, maybe. Hmm, TBA.
And so, I close today (if I can get blogger to co-operate) with some pictures of my very extravagant (3 strings of battery operated lights) light display at the front of my house.
xxx to you all, and I hope you are having a lovely time getting things ready for your special people.
So, I found the CDs. And bought... ... a synthesiser Bach compilation (because I like Bach so much, it will sound good to me, even on a synthesiser!); a Tchaikovsky ballet compilation, and an ABC (our version of your NBC, or CBC in Canada) disc compiled for dinner parties (Track 1 is Handel's "Arrival of the Queen of Sheba" - must be one of the most beautiful pieces ever written).
Today I popped out to the stores to get the youngest two to have haircuts (before we lose Knox under his long blond hair), got some shortbread to give our neighbours on each side (yeah, yeah, I should bake, but then what if it tastes gosh-awful, and they'd never say? Plus I have a way of leaving out a key ingredient when I'm making things for special occasions). With that, I think I'm done with preparations for the holidays.
Oh. Except wrapping gifts. I wonder if it's quicker to sew little baggies for the gifts? Maybe, maybe. Hmm, TBA.
And so, I close today (if I can get blogger to co-operate) with some pictures of my very extravagant (3 strings of battery operated lights) light display at the front of my house.
xxx to you all, and I hope you are having a lovely time getting things ready for your special people.
That's Jacinta putting dinner (that she cooked) on the table, after she'd whizzed off on her bike to the store to get an ingredient she thought we were out of. It was in the cupboard all along, but for once, she had a "guy" look, and didn't find it. Precious daughter.
One Room Done
We cleaned, spirited toys away, and took a quick picture, before someone comes in with boots, another with a bike, shopping, newspapers...
You get the idea. The other rooms are also (a bit) tidier, but not really photo-worthy. Wait until I tidy the roof space and the laundry - I know you're just dying to see those, too :-). Just don't look too closely...
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Because You Have To Start Somewhere.
The herb patch, bolted to stems and seed with all the rain.
Can you say "Bicycle Shed"??? As in need one, now!
I included this photo, to show that depending on the angle and composition, you can make even the trashiest house look almost good enough for your favourite Mormon Mommy blog.
You are now entering the serious mess zone. Maybe a half dozen sewing tasks piled up on the right, storage tubs to contain the raw materials, vacuum cleaner (left out by teenage son after cleaning his car), shoes for the Op-shop and Planet Earth shoe recycling program that I forgot to take yesterday, and Grete's baby doll in her carrier. Oh, and two baskets of sorted laundry, and one to be hung outside (when I've finished blogging)
Kitchen, with handwash going on, and the bins needing doing (Knox, that's your job there sweetpea).
Kitchen table, with another sewing task laid out by Knox - "Can you widen these cut-offs for me, mum?"
Two maids-a-sleeping. Yes, we sleep on the floor. As a preference. Very Japanese of us.
Bissy's Lair - all of her stuff brought back from Uni last week, after 3 years as an undergrad. TBC...
And in no particular order, Grete's dollhouse shelf, the piano, the hopping ball that we have had since Jacinta was a toddler, tubs of toys waiting to be stored in the laundry again, and jumper and blanket from last night's run (literally) to the store with the Mountain Buggy.
The blackboard wall, waiting for some seasonal drawings to be added before Grete can add to her random spaceship works.
Rocking horse from Op-shop, futon because Daddy P slept over and has gone to work, the Barbie collection and storage tub for Barbies, the imitation feather Christmas tree, lost in the flotsam and jetsam.
And the Hallyway. Potty Central, plus stuff waiting to be stored in the roofspace for the summer. No, that is not a Stormtrooper costume, it's Knox's fullface helmet, for his serious Kamikaze stage of mountain biking. Fan, because Australian summer is meant to be hot (even though it's still cold at the moment).
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Mountain Buggy
For Mountain Buggy enthusiasts. If you can push it, it can go there. No handbrake, though; just a parking brake.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Ode to St Valentine
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The Front Yard this time.
Aah, the Australian summer. Gum leaves, gum leaves, and more gum leaves. And not a koala in sight. Yeah, I should probably rake up those leaves sometime. Mm. Maybe later? Actually I've been streamlining the housework this summer; mostly by just not doing it. The kitchen is clean but cluttered, the bathroom is acceptable, the rest of the house is dusty, but it isn't bothering me. I'd like to say I've been really creative during this spell, but I've mostly been resting, and idly dreaming of things I might do when I'm feeling like it. I suppose I know that my energy and sense of industry will return, and that the in-between times are just that, and not to be viewed with negativity. (I don't like the clumpy nature of that last bit of wording - suggestions, please?) BLW, loved your post this morning, and now I have the answer to my third option in my hot chocolate date with Amber - I would like to have learned more grammar. Unlike my friend BLW, I just write it like I say it. So, her words are the topiary and parterre gardens to my unfenced bush paddock. *sigh* But until I find a nerdy adult learning class on grammar (do they have such things?), I'm stuck with colloquial and clumpy.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
On Gardens, Solitude and Photos
Baby waiting patiently for backyard picnic,having carried the chairs out herself to get things started.
Biss, trying to evade capture,while doing her Uni subject selections for Semester 1 this year.
The treehouse, having been restored to its correct place in the universe,after being temporarily displaced by the Christmas tree.
I've come to the conclusion that a picture really does say a thousand words. I watched such a good documentary 6 months or so ago, on 4 photographers, speaking about their own work, how it evolved, what it meant to them. If I find the reference for the docu, I'll insert it here. But I've been musing this morning on how much I love blog posts with photos, from other people's homes, outings, kids, fashions - whatever it pleases them to post, I'm interested.
So, I thought I'd go on a photojournalism stint for a bit, and just capture some of what's going on around me.
There is a bit of a problem with putting this new idea into practice, though. I only use my phone camera. Point, shoot, plug in USB, finished. I don't crop, chop, slice or dice. Or even focus... I used to love the old Ricoh camera, back in the days when cameras used film. I didn't know the name of the things I was manipulating, but I knew how to set it up to take the pictures I wanted. When things went digital, I got left behind. Of course, I can see the wonderful innovation that digital photography is - I could barely afford to develop and print my photos in the old days. And there was that time when I thought there was a roll of film in the camera, but there wasn't...
SO - I guess I'll have to get photography lessons from my kids, and then get on with it. TBC on that.
Christmas Packing Up.
Reindeer Roadkill(note to Amber - see crumbs on floor;
perfection in housekeeping is only
for those people who don't have better things to do :-) )
Knox, making helpful commentary on my photo composition. Gardens. Sort of.
Surveying the seedlings by flashlight after a storm; Biss and Somer.
And on solitude. From Youtube. Like the other commenters, I just love this girl's Canadian accent.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Doings.
A quick post of piccies of the last week or so. Especially for our northern hemisphere friends, as a reminder that somewhere in the world, it is summer.
We've been doing a mix of family stuff, beach, backyard picnics and running (of course). Staying close to home, as I haven't been well, and just can't get my head around the usual camping expeditions. Maybe in a week or so. We'll see. Hope you've all had some nice family times these holidays as well.
Monday, November 29, 2010
For Amber, for fun.
LIVING
Where do you live: Oz
Favorite art: The Heidelberg school (Frederick McCubbin, Tom Roberts, Arthur Streeton), my kids' photography, architecture, esp. early 1900s.
Pets: The kids are enough, I don't need anyone else to look after right now. Plus if I can afford to feed a pet, I could be helping to feed someone's starving child with the money.
Favorite neighborhood restaurant: Hah- Dominos pizza on Tuesday nights after athletics training.
Favorite cocktail: Don't drink either, or fizzy drinks (sodas to you). Homemade lemonade that I cheat and colour pink.
Who inspires you: Ooh, toughie. My daughter, for being young and strong in a time when it's difficult for young people to be true to themselves; my ex-husband, for his enormous patience with the children; my baby's dad, for having the courage to face each day even though it will be a struggle all the way; my blogging friends throughout the world, for their thoughts, their views, their experiences, that broaden mine.
Necessary extravagance: Hmm. One perfume, Miracle, that I ration to last 3+ years.
Favorite place in the world: Why do all these quiz questions have to be so absolute? Bangalow, because it's beautiful, and a nice dip into the cultural melting pot of country Australia.
CLOTHES
Designer: Sew myself from Japanese pattern books; op-shop finds; Country Road if it has to be new.
Jeans: Don't wear them.
Underwear: Undies. What else? This must be a guy quiz question.
Sneakers: Running shoes or Teva sandals.
Watch: Timex Ironman with 50 lap memory.
T-shirt: Plain black, small fit, short sleeves.
Day bag: http://www.envirosax.com.au/
Evening bag: Made it myself. See previous post.
Favorite city to shop: Sydney. Kinokuniya, to be more specific.
BEAUTY
Lipstick: Bepanthen (baby cream).
Mascara: Eyelash tint every 3 months or so.
Shampoo: Oh, I dunno, um, Clairol Herbal Essences (went to bathroom and looked).
Moisturizer: Something French the ladies from work gave me for my birthday.
Perfume: Miracle (Lancome)
Toothpaste: Macleans Sensitive
Soap: Aldi orange fragrance (in an 8-pack)
Nail-polish color: Never, ever paint them.
Who cuts your hair: Good friend, in the salon where she works.
Who colors your hair: Same.
Amber, I hope you enjoy reading and trying to picture the person behind the answers, as much as I did yours.
Re- The Fog; early parenting is just hard. Harder for some than others - it was hard for me, and still is, with a 3yo, and 3 more in their teens and early 20s. I don't have any advice, except to keep writing, and doing the other things that you love, and that bring meaning to your life, whenever you can fit it in and around all your other roles. Just for fun. And thanks for the quiz.
Where do you live: Oz
Favorite art: The Heidelberg school (Frederick McCubbin, Tom Roberts, Arthur Streeton), my kids' photography, architecture, esp. early 1900s.
Pets: The kids are enough, I don't need anyone else to look after right now. Plus if I can afford to feed a pet, I could be helping to feed someone's starving child with the money.
Favorite neighborhood restaurant: Hah- Dominos pizza on Tuesday nights after athletics training.
Favorite cocktail: Don't drink either, or fizzy drinks (sodas to you). Homemade lemonade that I cheat and colour pink.
Who inspires you: Ooh, toughie. My daughter, for being young and strong in a time when it's difficult for young people to be true to themselves; my ex-husband, for his enormous patience with the children; my baby's dad, for having the courage to face each day even though it will be a struggle all the way; my blogging friends throughout the world, for their thoughts, their views, their experiences, that broaden mine.
Necessary extravagance: Hmm. One perfume, Miracle, that I ration to last 3+ years.
Favorite place in the world: Why do all these quiz questions have to be so absolute? Bangalow, because it's beautiful, and a nice dip into the cultural melting pot of country Australia.
CLOTHES
Designer: Sew myself from Japanese pattern books; op-shop finds; Country Road if it has to be new.
Jeans: Don't wear them.
Underwear: Undies. What else? This must be a guy quiz question.
Sneakers: Running shoes or Teva sandals.
Watch: Timex Ironman with 50 lap memory.
T-shirt: Plain black, small fit, short sleeves.
Day bag: http://www.envirosax.com.au/
Evening bag: Made it myself. See previous post.
Favorite city to shop: Sydney. Kinokuniya, to be more specific.
BEAUTY
Lipstick: Bepanthen (baby cream).
Mascara: Eyelash tint every 3 months or so.
Shampoo: Oh, I dunno, um, Clairol Herbal Essences (went to bathroom and looked).
Moisturizer: Something French the ladies from work gave me for my birthday.
Perfume: Miracle (Lancome)
Toothpaste: Macleans Sensitive
Soap: Aldi orange fragrance (in an 8-pack)
Nail-polish color: Never, ever paint them.
Who cuts your hair: Good friend, in the salon where she works.
Who colors your hair: Same.
Amber, I hope you enjoy reading and trying to picture the person behind the answers, as much as I did yours.
Re- The Fog; early parenting is just hard. Harder for some than others - it was hard for me, and still is, with a 3yo, and 3 more in their teens and early 20s. I don't have any advice, except to keep writing, and doing the other things that you love, and that bring meaning to your life, whenever you can fit it in and around all your other roles. Just for fun. And thanks for the quiz.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Been Busy.
Ooh, have been very bad at keeping up here and elsewhere online.
Have been busy close to home, moving half the house into one-and-a-half rooms, so the floors could be done (and now they are); and dabbling a little bit in sewing - an irresistible Japanese pattern for babyG from an upcycled men's shirt, and helping the ex-husband make a crisp white linen blend wrap dress for his GF (oh! but she hasn't tried it on for him - don't know what's with that? I'd swoon if someone sewed something from scratch for me!)
See piccies.
And BLW, I'm following the fashion class again in its entirety, and making notes.
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