Category Archives: Chronic Illness

Weekend Coffee Share – 7th February, 2021.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

After a hot and sunny day, it’s now after midnight. I can hear the rain outside cleansing the air, watering the earth, and all that grows. The blinds are drawn. So, I can’t see outside, but I can hear the raindrops, and a bit of wind and an intermittent soft pitter-patter on the roof. Of course, the dogs are inside sheltering with their humans, and the rest of the family is asleep I should be sleep too. However, after a hectic day yesterday, I slept through much of today and am out of synch again. Things also feel much more straightforward at night when there’s only myself to think about. There’s peace and quiet, and this sense of nothingness. I think that’s the sense that catastrophe is only just being held at bay, and this is but a stolen moment of respite from it all. Intermission. However, even intermission is good, isn’t it?!!

The highlight of this week was our daughter’s dance competition. She doesn’t enter many of these, and they sort of hover on the horizon with a mix of excitement and dread. I really love watching her dance. Not only because she’s my daughter. She’s also a magnificent dancer. Moreover, as a poet and writer, dance appeals to my soul, my inner most being. Well, at least some of it does. Lyrical, which is essentially about telling a story, is my favourite genre. It tends to remind me of some of my favourite poets…Kahlil Gibran, Rumi, and can be rather connected to nature. However, I do become quite entranced by ballet and all its trappings…tutus, satin pointe shoes and tiaras. However, I also want depth to any dance, and not just flouncing around.

Anyway, the concert began in earnest, two days earlier when we ended up on a last minute pointe shoe run. Our daughter had ordered in a pair, and they hadn’t arrived, leaving her seriously in the lurch, and with only two days for us to find a pair. For the uninitiated, pointe shoes need to be fitted, and for that you need an appointment. We had no appointment. On top of that, finding the right pointe shoe reminds me of Prince Charming trying to find the foot which fit into the glass slipper, only in reverse. We had the foot, and now we need to find the one in a million pointe shoe which was not only going to fit, but also offer exactly the right amount of support. It’s a very precise science, and our daughter’s had a few pairs now and has a pretty good idea of what she needs. Thankfully, we managed to find the pair, and on Saturday we were off with the car loaded up with costumes, shoes, food, a newspaper, and a book. It was going to be a 12 hour day, and even if you love dance, it’s a lot to watch and a lot of things you could be sorting out at home. As it was, she came first in her ballet solo, third in her duo and third in her Contemporary. However, just getting through all of this and all the preparation, is an achievement for us both. I was pleased I didn’t screw anything up.

Meanwhile, now that school has been back for a few weeks, I’ve started getting back into my WWI research and am focusing on a series of bios of people on the home front. It wasn’t my intention to write about the home front at all. However, I came across these stories and outliers while researching our families’ stories and working towards a collection of soldiers’ bios. Now, that I’ve been thinking about the home front more, I feel the link to the home front and the battlefield is closer than I thought and they’re quite interactive, even though they’re geographically quite distant in Australia’s case.

You see, the soldiers themselves are coming from the home front, so what’s going on there obviously has a strong influence on why they enlisted. Then, there are soldiers returning home, who are also bringing experiences and news from the battlefield to the front home. Anyway, right from the get go, it’s been riveting, and it’s exciting to see it coming together. By the way, this research turned into my covid lockdown project and it’s really given me a strong sense of purpose during these uncertain times, especially when we were in lockdown last year.

Have you had a covid project?

Actually, speaking of Covid, have you had the vaccine yet? It isn’t available here yet, and I’ll need to speak to my specialist before I go ahead. BTW for those of you who are wondering why get vaccinated if it doesn’t provide full protection from the virus and negate the need for masks, my view is that all these precautions add up and will hopefully be effective as a whole. It’s like wearing a suit of armour. You still need your sword.

Anyway, I’m going to head off because it’s way too late.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Natalie the Explorer at https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/

Best wishes,

Rowena

When death comes. — Into The Clearing

In January my husband and I had to rush my Dad to emergency. We had to take a strange route to avoid traffic. We also had to keep him calm. He was ironically excited in his delirium from level 10 pain. We thought he would need to stay a few days but in reality the […]

When death comes. — Into The Clearing

Weekend Coffee Share – Happy New Year!

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share & Happy New Year!

That said, I think it’s a bit early to declare 2021 a Happy New Year just yet. However, perhaps if we speak positive words over the coming year, it might just come to pass. Not that 2020 was a particularly “bad” year for us. However, we have had some absolute shockers in the past, so it had some pretty stiff competition. Also, Australia has largely managed to contain covid, and we haven’t experienced the terrible suffering and numbers of deaths seen overseas. However, that’s also because we’ve been cautious and established tight preventative measures often at a voluntary level. We’ve seen what the virus has done overseas and we don’t want to catch it. I particularly don’t want to catch it due to my severe pre-existing medical conditions. That’s just logical and if I have to delay some gratification for a bit, such is life. I’ll do it. I won’t complain and I’ll make the best of it. Indeed, that’s what I’ve done and my WWI research is powering along, and we’ve also made great headway with renovating our loungeroom and clearing alot of stuff out of the house.

The renovated loungeroom.

So, we start 2021 with new beginnings. We’re opening up our home, and inviting people over instead of locking the doors and barring the windows and hoping no one ever dares to pop in and knock on the door. We had my parents over for Christmas Day, and with covid restrictions down to 5 visitors, we had four friends over for dinner and after midnight, there was a change of the guard and our daughter had two friends stay the night. She hasn’t brought these friends over before so this was a big step forward. We’d rather she brings her friends here rather than hanging out locally. I’m sure I don’t need to explain that to anyone out there.

Trying on glasses at Specsavers wearing masks…our brave new world.

Another new beginning for 2021, is that I’ve gone back to extensive journal writing. My journaling has taken on different forms throughout the years. Traditionally, I’ve just used a free form notebook. However, for awhile there, I’ve gone to printed diaries with a day to a page, and on other years, a week to an opening. I use my diary writing as a mixture of recording what happened as well as exploring how I feel about things, and it seems quite a lot of storytelling. For awhile there, I’ve been fine with just doing my online blogging and haven’t felt a need for a private space. However, that changed towards the end of last year, when I started becoming more aware that there was stuff I just wanted to share with myself. I didn’t want someone else’s response , opinion or suggestions. I just wanted to sit with myself in this still pond of thought and just be, although being a writer, of course, that involved shedding lots of words, letting the emotions flow. These days, I don’t feel the need to share these feelings publicly or even to one soul. I’m quite happy to let life bounce along on the outside and leave it be. Besides, other people generally don’t have the time to listen to the whole story, especially when the story takes days to tell. You’d be needing to have toilet breaks, nap and meal breaks or a supply of ultra-strong, intravenous coffee.

Anyway, as it turns out, even I don’t have time to listen to myself. I’ve been writing in my new journal for hours some days, and providing pages and pages of back story going back 20 years to when we first bought the house, and why our renovation plans were so badly scuttled. Life is complicated. Complicated isn’t quick. Well, that’s unless you go for the bullet journal approach, which could be rather brutal when things aren’t going in your favour and you’ve travelled down snake after snake without landing on any ladders.

There’s also another reason I’ve been reflective lately. My great aunt, Louise, passed away on New Year’s Day. She was such a wonderful woman, and I regretted not keeping in touch more. I regret not having the self-confidence to just ring up and say hello. I have no trouble talking to strangers and yet feel nervous calling people I know. Silly, isn’t it!!

My grandmother second from the right with her siblings at the Glasshouse Mountains, Queensland around 1940.

Anyway, her death triggered a search through the old photo albums, and by the end of the night, I was feeling quite upset. I won’t use the word depressed, because what I was experiencing was grief. Not only that my aunt had died, but how that whole generation had now passed away, and along with them a way of life and big sprawling families with lots of cousins and connections. I was particularly close to my grandparents, and I missed them all over again too. That’s not to say that looking up the photos was a mistake or a bad thing to do. It just acknowledges that I’m human, not a robot. When we love someone, it’s natural to grieve. It’s naturally to think of the bigger family picture they were part of and miss that too. It’s also a reminder to make the most of the living and stay connected, particularly at the moment when we’re much more disconnected during covid.

1919 Spanish Flu Outbreak, Sydney.

Meanwhile, I’d like to encourage you to check out my previous post. I found a letter to the editor from 1919 talking about lifestyle restrictions in Sydney during the 1919 Spanish Flu Pandemic. It was a great piece, and way too relevant to us now.

Well, that’s enough from me.

Wishing you best wishes for 2021!

Rowena

Positive Thinking Be Damned – An Aussie Voice From the Spanish Flu Pandemic 1919.

I wonder how many people have taken on a project throughout Covid… Something to give them an enhanced sense of purpose and hope when everything around us is at best weird and completely unrecognizable (even your nearest and dearest behind the cursed mask), or for those who are losing precious loved ones one after another, there’s tragedy and grief.

Three out of the four of us trying on glasses at Specsavers last week when part of Sydney was under lockdown and we were playing it safe.

I’d got stuck into my project before covid. That’s because I was already in iso at home literally struggling to breathe during the Australian bushfire crisis. I have 50% lung capacity and was confined to our loungeroom or bed with the air-conditioning on. On bad days, I couldn’t leave these rooms. It was absolutely terrifying, and seriously life-threatening. Yet, at the same time, I was quite safe in my hidey-hole.

This is when doing some background research on family members who’d served in France during WWI really took off, turning into multiple projects of epic proportions. It is only a short jump from WWI to the 1919 Spanish Flu Epidemic. Indeed, tonight while I was researching some Australian war artists, I came across a rather impassioned letter to the editor of Smith’s Weekly talking about all the trials and tribulations they’d been through what with the drought, followed by the war and then the Spanish Flu. They go on to describe living conditions and restrictions at the time, and I thought it made for pretty good reading, and decided to share it with you.

By the way, before you read it, it might help you to understand the Australian context by reading a verse of Dorothea MacKellar’s famous poem, My Country, which eulogizes the trails and tribulations of living in Australia, and provides a background to the letter:

“I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains

Of ragged mountain ranges

Of droughts and flooding rains”

-Dorothea MacKeller, My Country.

AUSTRALIA’S TROBLES

Australia is a land of troubles! First, a thrice-barrelled drought squats down on our Sunny Land and burns her up like cinder. Then, Noah-like floods of varying horse-power and dampness smites your essential industries, pastoral, agricultural, etc,, one where they feel it. Then we have the war and its toll of precious life. Then, for a change, we are visited by the Spanish visitation. People walk around gagged and masked as if they belonged to the Secret Council of Ten or the Clutching Hand Gang. The Tax Collector then takes it into his head to camp on our front doorsteps. To escape him, we jump on a passing tram and go into town. “Please don’t sneeze!” “Please don’t cough!” “Please don’t spit!” “Please don’t cross your legs!” “Please don’t blow your nose in the car; do it outside!” “Please don’t spread yourself out. You don’t own the tram. Squeeze up and make room for others!”

These are a few of the “Please don’t” “By orders” we encounter. In despair, we seek the theatre. Alas! “Closed till further notice on account of influenza epidemic!” stares at us with baleful eyes. Then, horror of horrors, we have the politician! Our last trouble as usual, is the worst of all! What Australia has done to be inflicted with the political pests and poltroons that infest our fair land. Heaven alone knows! O.B.U. and Bolshevik orators, bulb-eyed editors, clerical hum-bugs, business profiteers, wobbly poetic Post-misses, and catch-as-catch-can Premiers and State Governors form a formidable list enough to drive a man into the bush for the rest of his days. Truly, Australia is a land of trials and troubles. Anybody any remedy for all these ills?

— H.

Smith’s Weekly (Sydney, NSW : 1919 – 1950), Saturday 26 April 1919, page 9

You have to have a bit of sympathy for poor H. these days now, don’t you?! Mind you, from where I sit, H. was living it up by getting out and about. I haven’t caught a train since February last year when I caught up with a friend in Sydney, and we went out for dinner. I’m so pleased we did. That meal’s now starting to look like the Last Supper!

Not that I feel like I’m missing out most of the time. That’s the good thing about being into history. You know it goes round in cycles like the lands at the top of Enid Blyton’s Magic Faraway Tree. The landscape keeps changing, and you just need to wait for something else, and hopefully better, to come along.

Meanwhile, climate change is starting to make it back on the news. I would tend to call this unprecedented, but I am not even a speck of dust when it comes to the length of breadth of history which spans infinity. I really don’t know.

Anyway, its good food for thought. Any comments?

I’d love to hear from you!

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS You can read more about the impact of the Spanish Flu Epidemic on Sydney here: https://home.dictionaryofsydney.org/ah-chew-sniffle-sniffle-the-pneumonic-influenza-pandemic-of-1919/

Cooking the Books.

We’ve all seen some weird things in 2020. However, things have really gone mad around here now. Indeed, even madder than usual, if that were possible. As you can see, I’ve starting cooking the books, and we’ll be eating words for Christmas.

Well, we will be unless our renovations and reorganizations get a wriggle on.

Indeed, being typical renovators, we’ve taken two steps forward, three steps back, on the hope that we’ll have a place for everything and everything in it’s place by Christmas Day. This hope is now starting to look like a fantastic dream, and I should be a lot more worried than I am. However, I’ve had good training. You can always hide a few things in the oven, the clothes dryer or under the bed at the last minute if you have to. Failing that, there’s the car.

The car bed finally leaving the house.

Of course, the road to renovation didn’t start 5 days before Christmas. Rather, the wheels were set in motion a few months ago when our son’s car bed finally left the house for an extended holiday at a friend’s place.

There’s a bear in there, and a piano frame as well…

Yet, there was still the problem of the old piano no one wanted in the loungeroom. However, it turned out that deconstructing the piano solved that problem and a friend of ours was quite happy to take it away in pieces, although we have kept the pedals and the keys. Then, it was full steam ahead, which also included an incidental painting of the room.

Geoff finally cutting through the carpet.

While Geoff was busy there, I started getting quite ruthless with the books and realized we probably needed to halve the number of books in our place. Well, that’s if we were ever going to be able to have people over once again. In other words, be able to open the place back up again, and not be afraid of somebody coming over.

Indeed, it’s been all too easy to forget we used to have people over, including holding the kids’ birthday parties. Whatever happened to us?

It’s called dermatomyositis an auto-immune disease where you’re muscles attack themselves and it’s been compounded by Interstitial Lung Disease, which has left me with 50% lung capacity. We’ve been in survival mode for so long, but with Geoff working from home this year due to Covid, we’ve finally been able to get ahead. Indeed, we’ve even saved money. So, 2020 hasn’t been all bad.

Well, it’s actually because of Covid that the renovations had to get a wriggle on. Usually, we go to my aunt’s place every year for a big Christmas with the extended family. My dad is one of seven, so what with all my cousins and now their kids, it’s become quite a tribe. However, they’re not getting together this year, and so my parents are coming to our place, and there’ll only be the six of us. Indeed, with such a small group, I feel we need to include the three dogs in on the head count. Nine sounds a lot better!

Lady’s keen to join us at the dinner table for Christmas lunch.

This means, of course, that I’m needing to cook, and not just cook the books. However, that can wait at the moment. We have a ham in the fridge, and I’ve made a Christmas cake and there’s also a pudding. So, I’ve made a good start.

All these books ended up in the kitchen while we were moving furniture around. Our dump and run room is now in the process of being cleaned out, and we’ve swapped the lounge and the dining table over so we’ll have two tables for Christmas Day, while creating a potential place for our teenaged kids to hang out. Or, perhaps it will be for us parents when, and if, their friends ever come over. I’m really looking forward to this new chapter, and it feels quite liberating.

Yet, at the same time, we still need to find a place for everything and have everything stashed away in its place by Christmas Day.

What have we done????

How are your Christmas preparations going? I hope yours are a lot less chaotic, and your plans are going well. Yet, at the same time, there’s also Covid to consider and its intent on ruining quite a few Christmases this year. Nearby Sydney has a cluster on the Northern Beaches and they’ve gone into lock down, and I’ve hearing of a few cancelled plans. However, cancelled lunches is nothing compared to the incredible loss of life the virus has claimed on a global scale, and there will be a lot of empty chairs this Christmas Day, and a lot of heart-ache. We are thinking of you and sending our love!

Anyway, I’d better get back to it.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Weekend Coffee Share…27th October, 2020.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

How are you? How are you really? Are you fine and everything’s going along with the flow? Or, are you a bit like me and a few of your own cogs aren’t quite moving smoothly and those around you are doing it tough?

That’s where I’m sitting at the moment. I haven’t got my own house in order, but I’m being much more constructive helping a few friends who are doing it tough and it’s so much easier to see the necessary steps for them, but so much harder for myself. I’m staring too close to it and it’s gone a bit blurry. Actually, it’s not really my stuff I’m trying to get sorted. It’s my son and his choices for his last year of school. He wants to do sound engineering when he finishes up and has a good aptitude for it, and he’s gaining good experience at Church, especially when you consider other options have closed down. He wants to put his foot down on the accelerator and get on with it. I’d just like him to slow down and finish school. Have another year before he heads out into the big wide world. I am trying not to blow up like a firecracker and am saying very little, while I try to do my research and get my head around what he wants to do.

Meanwhile, I took my elderly neighbour to the specialist today. He was diagnosed with metastatic prostate cancer, which had got into his bones. He’s 90 so we know he isn’t going to last forever, but we love this couple dearly and they have always been a second set of grandparents to our kids and were such a help when they were small. Now, it’s our turn to look after them. They said they were right, but I said it’s always good to have someone else to listen and take notes. Moreover, as you’re probably aware, I’ve been through a bit medically so I’m well versed on these things. Well, at least, I knew to take pen and paper and write everything down. I could work out what was important later. It was also good that I could drive them there, and take that pressure off. It was only later on tonight that the reality of his situation really sank in and how incongruous it was that we were talking through cancer treatment very matter of factly. No tears. No emotions. It was business. This is what needs to be done. However, there are emotions and it’s only now that I’ve stopped for the day and am unwinding for bed, that the reality has sunk in. By the way, it’s no trouble to be there for them. It’s just what you do. Besides, my grandparents’ neighbours took very good care of them We were living 1000kms away and couldn’t be there for them in that day to day way. In fact, I don’t think I ever drove any of my grandparents anywhere. So, this is rather nice and while we were waiting, I listened to his stories. They both lived through the London Blitz and were also sent away to the countryside as children were. They’re a fascinating couple, and they walk down to the local shops together, and are so sweet. You rarely see a couple still living at their age, let alone walking around and still living in their own home.

Tomorrow night, we’re going to a friend’s birthday party and I’ve offered to make the cake. I’ve been having better luck of late, H owever, I’m concerned about how this cake is turning out. I’ve made a caramel mud cake with caramel icing. I’m hoping it’s okay. My friend lives in a pole home perched high upon pillars like telegraph poles and set among the gum trees. He calls his place: “The Treehouse” and its beautifully decorated with vintage and antique ephemera and he’s a fabulous host, especially when you bring the food and cake. So, so his cake, I’m wanting to build a treehouse. Fortunately, I have a mould for a small chocolate gingerbread house. I haven’t used it before but I’ve poured in the chocolate and I’m just wanting for it to set. I’ve also got ini Violet Crumbles and chocolate sticks and I’ve going to set up an invading hoard of Tiny Teddies. It’s going to be a lot of fun assembling all these ideas. I’m just not quite sure how we’re going to transport it there and whether to assemble it there. Finger crossed it works out well.

Meanwhile, I’ve been continuing on with my research and it’s taking shape, which is a relief. I have so many stories but am getting them structured and it’s all heading the right direction.

Anyway, I’d better head off and get to bed. I hope you’re going well.

Best wishes,

Rowena

The Tardis of Woy Woy…Friday Fictioneers.

Bill was completely bamboozled. The ringing in his ears had become so blaringly loud, it sounded like someone was banging inside the donations bin. Yet, that was ludicrous. He had the only key, and guarded his charge like a hawk. There was no way anyone could get in or out without his explicit say so.

However, everywhere else, the tinnitus decrescendoed back to its annoying pianissimo.

Monday, Bill was making his coffee when the banging became an explosion. A flash of light, and the red bin was gone like the Tardis.

 Ouch! What was he going to tell Head Office?

….

100 words exactly. PHOTO PROMPT © Rowena Curtin (me)

This is another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. We’d love you to join us: https://rochellewisoff.com/

By the way, this week I have an unfair advantage. I supplied the photo prompt. So, I can also let you know that the photo should be rotated left with the beam of sunlight in the top left corner. That was my fault. Well, I’ll blame my dodgy photo editor and trouble rotating images.

This clothing bin is a bit battered and bruised, and I felt it looked a bit like it had crash-landed from outer space and would make great inspiration for Friday Fictioneers. Despite being an avid amateur photographer and responding to other people’s photo prompts for many years, this was my first contribution. I can’t wait to read all of your responses.

BTW in case you’re wondering, Woy Woy is in New South Wales about an hour North of Sydney, Australia. I know this is quite a throw back. However, here’s a link to a 1932 movie of Woy Woy and I particularly loved seeing a steam train crossing the Hawkesbury River Bridge: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ci3_j_1iQpY

Here’s a few local images, and you’ll be excused for thinking Woy Woy is home to the pelican:

Best wishes,

Rowena

Happy Anniversary – 19 Years On…

It was our 19th Wedding Anniversary on Wednesday a figure which automatically takes me through to next year which will be our 20th and worthy of all the pomp, circumstance and luxurious travel it deserves. At this juncture, I don’t know whether I’m looking forward to the same time next year, or whether we should be carpe diem seizing the day while the going is good. After all, everything is relative and 2020 hasn’t been our worst year by a country mile.

Rather, while there have certainly been some struggles, we’ve also had some surprising good luck and overall I think we’re coming out ahead. Not that this stops us from being very conscious of the horrors, disappointments and draining inconveniences which are still being endured globally. However, I don’t want to appeal to the sympathy vote ourselves when compassion, understanding, financial support and love really need to be channeled towards those who need it most and that isn’t us.

However, I did want to celebrate and acknowledge that Geoff and I have made it this far. Share that we actually did manage to get out for an indulgent, romantic lunch at our favourite special venue…the Impact Plans Cafe at nearby Empire Bay. Although we’ve had quite a few luxurious sunny days, this wasn’t one of them. Indeed, it was cold and wet and we even wondered whether the cafe would still be open for a late lunch after Geoff had attended a zoom meeting for work. However, it was like they were just waiting for us and only a couple of tables were taken, which was wonderful in terms of staying covid safe. I’m naturally cautious about going to cafes even though there’s virtually no known covid around here.

As I considered this post, I wondered whether to to put the wedding photo first as the featured image, or whether to start off with our older, more decrepit selves and then flash back to Cinderella and Prince Charming on their big day when, to use the Australian vernacular “we scrubbed up awlright”.

Knowing what lies ahead, I feel tired just looking at those two naive “babes in the woods”. This is actually how my father refers to himself and my mother when my birth started going horribly wrong like an express train accelerating straight over cliff, except I was stuck and not moving anywhere. I can relate to that ourselves looking back. No matter how prepared or cocky you might be, you simply have no idea what’s going to hit you right between the eyes. That’s what we should have been prepared for, instead of thinking about a five year plan. 

Nineteen years down the track, it only natural to ask whether we’d go back and do it all again?

“Can it be that it was all so simple then
Or has time rewritten every line
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we?
Could we?” 

-The Way We Were. 

Or, would we run, possibly even in two opposite directions?

I don’t know. There’s a big part of me now that thinks Geoff and I should’ve boarded a yacht and just kept sailing continuously out towards the sunset. Don’t go chasing rainbows. Stand tall like a sunflower and stare deep into those rays and not turn round.

However, I suspect this life of simplicity, without the love and responsibilities of becoming parents, wouldn’t be as rich. That a life well-lived is a textured tapestry filled with ups and downs and no one’s trajectory usually keeps just going up and up.

That’s not to say I’ve given up. As a writer, I still believe in stories and one day I’ll get there after all these years of scribbling and tapping away. I’ll have that published book clutched firm in the palm of my hand.

I don’t know what that has to do with our wedding anniversary, except I do. Our marriage is a partnership and due to my disability and severe health conditions, I haven’t been able to work in the way I expected and to maintain my career in marketing. Indeed, after going through chemo and almost giving up the ghost a few times, it no longer seemed quite so relevant either. I didn’t care how many widgets were sold. I wanted people to be content. I wanted our world to be a better place. All the extra layers of fluff really didn’t matter most of the time. That good loving, caring relationships were more important and I also felt I had a lot to relay through my writing and research. Not just my own observations and opinions, but also those gathered up along the road. Wisdom, after all, is a collective “being”. It’s not just the product of one mind.

Meanwhile, I want to go and dig up our wedding photos etc and show the kids. We also have our wedding video which we’ve never edited and have certainly never shown the kids or any of our current friends. I wonder what they’ll think of the two glamorous love birds? I wonder if they even see a glimpse of us?

Best wishes,

Rowena

Weekend Coffee Share…4th August, 2020.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

Well, this week I celebrated another birthday. I don’t know whether I’ve become any wiser, or even if I feel any older. However, I can’t kid myself that staying away from the hairdresser is doing me any favours. Stick my head in her door, and I’ll be transformed. I’d love to take Geoff with me as well. He’s in DESPERATE need of a haircut and beard trim and is looking like Moses after being in lock down and isolation at home for a few months. The trouble is he seems to like his new look. I’ve been giving him not too subtle hints, and then a work colleague of his who does photography on the side, asked him if he could take his portrait. Well, that was something having my husband approached to be a photo model, especially when you think the kids would be much more likely targets. Well, the downside of all of this, is that he’s been told not to change anything. Yikes! They had their first go at it today and I swear the beard was transmitting some weird kind of pulsating signal which interfers with technology, because all of his equipment miraculously failed and the connections between his camera and computer failed. Now, this is usually what happens when technology and I cross paths, and Geoff being an IT guru usually has the reverse effect. The computers know he’s in the office and behave themselves  when he’s around but muck up and go on strike when he’s on leave. Indeed, one of his former managers, was thinking about sticking a photo of him near the server to keep it happy. There was one particular Summer, where the air-conditioning failed and the server fried over the Christmas break while we were driving in between Hay and Adelaide in some of the most remote country in the world. I’ll never forget that call. Technology!!

Birthday Cake

Meanwhile, there’s covid, which seems to be like that annoying English backpacker who says they’re only going to stay for a week and is still glued to your couch six months later and showing no signs of moving on.

I don’t know whether you’ve been hearing about what’s been going on with Covid here in Australia? Well, just when I was starting to think we could even become covid free like New Zealand, things went pear-shaped in Victoria and I was back in isolation and second-guessing everyone I meet. There are a few outbreaks in Sydney, which are a concern, although not of immediate threat to us here. However, our situation has been challenged by my husband’s manager who has insisted that all IT staff return to the university to work on campus, despite NSW Health putting out a directive that anyone who can work from home should be working from home. The trains are virtually empty and he has no trouble parking at the station. So, it’s clear that many people are either working from home or have lost their jobs. So, I don’t understand why his manager has to be a trail blazer leading the way from common sense, but I guess we might just attribute that to “management”.

 

In addition to our frustrations with what’s happening at work, if what we see on TV is any indication, Covid seems to be bringing out the idiot in droves.  Here in Australia, we have “Bunning’s Karen” who refused to wear a face mask into the hardware store as requested and went troppo. However, that’s nothing compared to three Queensland girls who went down to Melbourne on a high-end handbag shoplifting spree in Melbourne and were fined in Melbourne for being at a party and flouting covid restrictions. Then, when they returned to Queensland, they lied about being in Melbourne and two of the three are currently in hospital with Covid. Meanwhile, with a bit of a humorous take on increased cases in Victoria, a map of Australia with Victoria missing, is doing the rounds.  This is a bit of blessed relief for the Tasmanians who are traditionally left off the map, mostly by accident. This, however, is much more intentional.

Map of Australia Without Victoria

Meanwhile, my research into Australian soldiers who served in WWI is continuing. You’d think I’d be ready to put pen to paper and start writing this massive epic. However, while my research is uncovering some brilliant stories and insights into the soldiers experiences, as well as efforts from the home front to support their efforts, it also uncovers my ignorance and I still don’t feel I’m in a position of knowing or understanding yet. Of course, that takes years and I’ve only been focused on this for one year so far, which really makes me a beginner. That said, I do have an honours degree in history under my belt and I’ve maintained an interest in history, especially Australian and Irish cultural history through my family history research. So, I’m not a rank beginner and I’m not completely untrained either. I just need to work out where I’m going to position myself on that continuum between storyteller and historian. I really do enjoy a good story, but I’m also a stickler for the truth and I’m not one to bend the facts to tell the tale unless I’m wearing my marketing/publicity hats. At the moment, I’m just going to keep “head down, bum up” and expect that I’ll find my voice when the timing’s right, and that will determine which way I go and this way, I’ll sort of grow into my spot instead of a fixed point determining who I am (if that makes any sense). This process might not be so structured, but is more organic.

The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke, Pocket Editions for the Trenches ...

Well, I think about does me for this week. Have you been watching any good movies lately? Or reading any books? I read C.J. Dennis’s: The Songs of the Sentimental Bloke during the week. This is a great Australian tale of romance and family life set just before the outbreak of WWI. The entire thing is written in verse, and uses the Australian vernacular of the day, which is harder to understand than Shakespeare. However, there’s a dictionary at the back if you need it. The book was very popular with the troops at the trench, and he’s been called Australia’s answer to Robbie  Burns. If you’re interested in checking it our, it’s available for free online  Here

Anyway, it’s getting late here so I’d better head off. I hope you’ve had a great week and I hope you and yours are well and staying Covid safe.

This is another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Eclectic Ali.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Bathing In A Glorious Sunset at Hardy’s Bay on Australia’s East Coast.

“Clouds come floating into my life,

no longer to carry rain or usher storm,

but to add color to my sunset sky.”

― Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds

Watching the setting sun perform its stunning grand finale, has become an irresistible  addiction. I can’t help myself, and why not? Sunsets have an ethereal, transcendental beauty, which lifts us out of ourselves, the weight of our earthly beings, and into the ether.

Needless to say, the photographer in me just can’t leave all that colour up there hanging in the sky. Rather, I have to preserve it for eternity in  6 x 4. Take it home.

Boats sunset

These boats are just bathing in golden light. 

Of course, if you’re a sunset chaser like myself, you’d already appreciate that the sunset is a process, an unfolding drama. That’s especially true when you’re watching the sun set over the ocean or a body of water like we were last night. If you were an actor, you could compare it to a four act play. If you were a lepidopterist (collector of butterflies), you’d say it was like the most exquisite Ulysses butterfly emerging from it’s chrysalis and fluttering through the sunshine in all it’s dazzling splendour before its brief hours pass. Or, perhaps if you’re a gardener or admirer of St Expery’s Little Prince, you could compare it to an unfurling rose bud opening up into a magnificent flower. Again, it’s hour too is all too brief and over all too soon. It’s petals brown and fall to the ground, just like day becomes night.

 

A good sunset is all these gems in one.

Last night, Geoff and I drove over to Hardy’s Bay on the New South Wales Central Coast  to check out the sunset there. Hardy’s Bay is about a 20 minute drive away, and to be perfectly honest, I can’t really tell you where it is in relation to anywhere else. I can only tell you how to get there from here, which probably isn’t going to help you at all, and you’ll end up like me when I first went to Hardy’s Bay a month ago…lost.  So, I’ve been kind and here’s a link to a map. That way, you can get lost or found on your own merits.

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The Jetty at Hardy’s Bay just before sun set. 

Anyway, Hardy’s Bay has a really lovely feel to it. There are some fancy food shops across the road from a long, wooden jetty which I’m sure was put right there in front of the sunset for the benefit of sunset chasers, photographers and meditators alike. Oh, and perhaps a few folk who might actually make it out on the water. Indeed, a large yacht came in and offloaded some passengers. We were sitting with our legs dangling off the jetty at the time, and while I was a bit cheesed off about having my serenity disturbed by having to move, I wasn’t about to sacrifice my legs to make a point.

Yacht Hardys Bay

Yacht pulled into Hardy’s Bay at sunset and dropped off some merry makers. 

Naturally, it was just amazing to be there watching the sunset and feeling myself merging in and almost becoming one with it. However, we were also there to take photos, and after photographing so many sunsets, and we’ve become just a tad fussy. We’re now looking for points of difference… the spectacular, the unusual and quirky. That said, although we’ve seen those more mediocre, sunburnt-orange skies and their corresponding clouds of pink marshmallow before, we’re still left awestruck. Still take the photos, but just might not print them up or post them on Facebook.

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Pointing your lens right into the sun is a no-no, and it is intense but I love the fullness of sunshine in this one. It effervescence. A massive glowing orange shining in the sky right in the middle of Winter and in the midst of Covid’s doom, gloom and despair. It’s pure magic. 

What I particularly noticed about this sunset was the range of colours both in the sky and also in the photos, and that these didn’t necessarily correspond with each other. Although I have a Nikon D3500 and it’s a lot more sensitive than a phone camera, there were instances where it had a mind of its own and the colours were much more intense.

Awesome sunset Hardys Bay

What sensational colour! This was what the camera saw – quite different to the naked eye.

I’ve fiddled with the post-processing, but I didn’t make significant changes to how the lens perceived and captured what was there. As I took the photos, I fiddled a bit with the ratio of clouds to water to see how that panned out, and managed to get some beautiful colouring in the water which wasn’t visible to the naked eye. Of course, there are no complaints. The effect was quite beautiful.

Rainbow Lorrikeet

A precious Rainbow Lorrikeet nibbling away in barren Illawarra Flame Tree. 

In addition to the incredible cloud coverage which became a feature in itself, and the obvious structure of the jetty, there was also a row of Illawarra Flame Trees along the shore line. It’s Winter here, and the trees are void of leaves and nothing but a mass of tangled branches. Yet, I took a second glance at the bright patches of bright rainbow colours dotted here and there, and pick out a smattering of Rainbow Lorrikeets. How special is that, AND I managed to get a few half-decent shots. They’re so pretty and so Australian!

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Don’t those striking branches of the Illawarra Flame Tree look extraordinary!!

However, as I said at the outset, while it’s so easy to be caught up and fall under a sunset’s magical spell, part of its intrinsic nature is its transience…its passing. Indeed, perhaps something so beautiful, so moving, so awe-inspiring could only be fleeting. That it it would somehow blow a fuse if it went on forever.

I don’t know.

Besides, nothing that is seen, lasts forever.

Only spirit.

Night light Hardy's Bay

Goodnight to the Sun

Anyway, I was just pleased to get outside after being cooped up. I’ve had a cold which rended me infectious and out of circulation. That’s cleared up now, just as cases of coronavirus spiral in Melbourne. Not to the levels experienced overseas, but I’m quite annoyed because we had the chance to get rid of this virus and it’s looking like we blew it. Well, in the case of Melbourne, they’ve tracked that outbreak to security guards “mingling” with guests in quarantine. How stupid is that? Some times, I wonder whether dumber & dumber are going to rule the world. Or, perhaps they already do. I’m still social distancing and just keeping out of circulation, but even I slipped up the other day and hugged a friend when she popped in the other day. I’ve been rigidly strict, and then I did that. Well, the one good thing about that is that I’m still human. My self, a very huggy, extroverted people-person, is still alive and well underneath this hermit’s skin.

Anyway, my apologies. I digress.

Do you have any great sunset shots you’d like to share? I’d love to see them. Just leave your links in the comments below.

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS Seeing these photos inspired a message for during this time of the coronavirus where we can’t travel…Make the most of where you are. I know it might look easy for me when I live on the coast and our Winter’s are pretty mild, but you can find a bit of magic everywhere you go and everywhere you are. You just need to open your eyes, your ears, your senses to the exquisite possibilities.