Departing for the prestigious Prix de Lausanne, 16 year old ballerina and proud Ngemba woman, Stella Donovan was asked what inspired her to dance.
“When I was five, I found a jewellery box at the tip with a ballerina twirling around inside. She was deadly and I wanted to dance like her. All me friends and aunties were into netball, but ballet was my thing. I hope to encourage other Aboriginal girls to pursue their dreams.”
Then, the tragic news came through.
Stella had broken her foot moments before she went on, but she wouldn’t let it ground her dreams.
I learn a lot writing these pithy 100 words of fiction. Many of you will know that our daughter is an aspiring ballerina and that things haven’t been easy over the last couple of years with covid and she recently snapped a ligament in her foot, but she’s back on deck again although not about to compete in Switzerland. She has the end of year concert coming up soon and next year will be onto auditions. To add a bit of a twist, I made this ballerina an Indigenous Australian a Ngemba woman from the outback town of Bourke where my Great Great Uncle, Herb Bruhn, was the head of the Bourke Dramatic and Musical Society and put on Cleopatra and Oklahoma under rather challenging circumstances and then had his pianist move away with no replacement. I admire his pluck! Anyway, I was delighted to find out that we have an Indigenous ballerina in the Australian Ballet, Ella Havelka, a Wiradjuri woman from Dubbo with a very encouraging story: What It’s Like To Be The First Indigenous Dancer in the Australian Ballet
Courage isn’t something you usually associate with ballerinas. The usual gamut of adjectives includes: “beautiful”, “gracious”, “exquisite”, “the swan”. Yet, there’s also that sense of speechless awe. How could they possibly move like that?
However, there’s a whole other set of words which go on behind the scenes. These include: grit, sheer bloody-minded determination, perseverance, incredible organisation and impeccably presentation. I also remember a funny comment… ballerinas sweat. Indeed, they might even smell, which I still find rather hard to believe.
Of course, this is all a world away from the jewellery box ballerina I was entranced with as a little girl. I carefully turned the silver winder at the back and opened the lid. Hey presto! There she was twirling around to Love Story. I was bedazzled. In my case, my admiration didn’t perform some kind of magic and turn a clumsy elephant into a ballerina. However, I was recently reading through my old diary, and it seems a pair of dress-up ballet slippers I bought for Miss when she was three, sowed the seed of her lifelong dream.
Anyway, the reason I’m back here posting yet another photo of Miss in her ballet tutu, is that I wanted to acknowledge the latest. Last Thursday, Miss competed in the solos at the Sydney Eisteddfod for the first time. While it mightn’t be a huge deal, it’s the biggest and most prestigious eisteddfod in NSW, and an intimidating juggernaut. So, it’s a good step forward. Moreover, like everything else, the extended covid lockdowns we’ve had impacted on the Eisteddfod making this significant step all the more daunting not just for her but also for us. We’ve been living in our home bubble for so long, it’s almost too comfortable. Added to that, we live about 1-2 hours drive away depending on the traffic. So, it’s hardly next door, and it was in an unfamiliar part of Sydney. This added quite an extra layer of stress, although we had a good run and phew! There was parking on site.
Yet, what I hadn’t anticipated was that the most stressful moment of the competition -and it didn’t even involve our daughter! Indeed, it was a complete stranger. As this young woman was dancing, the satin ribbon on her pointe shoe came undone and started flapping around her ankle like an evil serpent threatening to strike.
Being the consummate professional (albeit only 16 years old), this young woman kept smiling and kept going and going. I was amazed! The entire time my eyes were glued to her and my heart was in my stomach. I was so worried she was going to trip and have a really nasty accident. It was clear everyone around me was feeling it as well. I know dance mums get a bad wrap, but there was so much love and compassion for that young woman. However, she didn’t fall, and kept working her way through her routine spinning and leaping across the stage with this infuriating ribbon dangling from her ankle. Geoff thought she was aware of where the ribbon was, but it was subtle. I congratulated her when I saw her afterwards, because I figured getting through that made her a true champion.
Meanwhile, our daughter was backstage and she had her own crisis. She suddenly heard her music playing and thought she’d missed her cue to go on. The thing is, that when you’re in a studio, the pieces of music for your dances are yours alone. It’s as good as having your name plastered on the front. You own it, and hearing that music is always your cue to go on. However, at the Sydney Eisteddfod, there were something like 60 dancers competing just in the ballet solo section alone, and quite a few dancers were using the same piece of music. So, your music wasn’t your music anymore.
I can just imagine her dealing with all of that backstage when she’s already feeling it. Hearing her music at the wrong time must’ve hit her like an electric shock. However, to be fair, while we had the big board in the auditorium clearly showing which number was next, I don’t think they had that backstage. I just saw a few people hovering with clip boards near the door, and to compound the confusion, audience was going in and out.
No doubt there were endless other overcomings throughout the day, and although they might not rate a mention on the adjudicator’s sheet, are possibly even more noteworthy.
As it turned out, Miss didn’t place in the competition, but she scored well and with a lot of these things, you usually clock the first one up to experience.
However, I would like to congratulate her and everybody else who enters into these competitions for putting themselves through all the stress and rigmarole and actually entering the arena.
Indeed, I like to pass on this encouraging quote from —Theodore Roosevelt Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910:
“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
Have you or your family been involved in dance or something similar and gone through competitions and eisteddfods? Do you have any stories to share? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
Well, how about we shift a pile or two of paraphernalia off the couch so you can sit down, and I’ll return with your choice of beverage and a plate of one of my favourite supermarket indulges…Ginger Kisses. These are a two biscuits of ginger sponge sandwiched together with a lux cream filling. I go through phases with my late night snack, and these are a returning addiction. Don’t know what they put in them, but they’re irresistible. However, just when I reached a point where I couldn’t live without them, they abruptly disappeared from the supermarket shelves and I had to go without. Being a resourceful woman, I hit the other local supermarkets and on my third hit, I stuck gold and bought all four packets (which by the way was all they had!) So, I hope you feel privileged that I’m actually sharing my stash with you, even if it’s virtual.
Do you have food shortages where you are? While relative to how things are going in some parts of the world, we still have it very good here. However, the cost and availability of fruit and veg is skyrocketing. Even the humble choko which used to be dirt cheap, is now $9.00 a kilo. As for iceberg lettuce, it’s overtaken toilet paper in discussions here. The crop was wiped out in the recent floods and Coles is now asking for $6.00 but it’s been up to around $10.00 in places. KFC, as only one example, has been substituting cabbage for lettuce on their burgers. It’s a tough life for some, and while I’m talking about prices, there’s the obvious increase in fuel prices. I wonder how people are getting on…
Well, I should’ve been keeping a closer eye on the time. I jumped on here to get this post written (or at least my link in place) before link up closed, but I got too engrossed in the price of lettuce and while I was rabbiting on, time ran away. Oh well.
My troubles with missing this wretched deadline is that I have historically written my post on Monday nights Sydney time and written about my weekend. On the other hand, most people seem to write about their week and they’re sharing on the weekend. I haven’t adapted to this change in mindset, and this week I’m rather under the weather. I had my fourth covid vaccine on Friday and I’ve been feeling sluggish over the weekend and my lungs haven’t been in their A1 condition. So, this week being late will just have to suffice and I’ll try again next week.
My big news this week, is that I finally enrolled in a freelance journalism course with the Australian Writers’ Centre online: Freelance Writing Stage 1. I first heard about this course about 8 years ago via my friend Shelley but didn’t follow it up. However, the course has now moved online and I’ve also come to realise that freelancing could give me the flexible income I’m looking for. Moreover, with Miss still at school and her dance and cheer commitments, I’d be stretched to juggle regular employmentin addition to my health issues.
I have now completed my first assignment which involved analysing a magazine. I chose frankie. Have you heard of it? It’s a quirky magazine geared towards up and coming creatives, artisans and like-minded peoples. I don’t know whether my fellow students absorbed their magazines quite to the level I did and I probably went well beyond and above the scope of the assignment by checking out all the featured artisans. I had a ball. It was like visiting an enthralling artisan market from home. Understandably, however, it took me a little longer to actually get the assignment done and unbelievably the deadline started getting close. It was only a simple assessment, and I could’ve polished it off earlier if I hadn’t been so thorough and I was also a bit confused about how to pick out freelance contributions. However, I’ve also picked up Caravanning Australia as a magazine of interest, and eliminated Great Walks (this should be named exhausting never-ending hikes or Are We There yet? It’s way beyond my meagre fitness level). So, my market research has begun. The group also has an line chat function we’ve already begun bouncing ideas off each other.
Meanwhile, the Miss has been busy. Yesterday, she completed in the State Cheer and Aerobics Championships and her team were the State Champions and gold medallists. She also placed third and received a bronze medal for her individual cheer performance. This means she’s off to Nationals on the Gold Coast, which is very exciting and a bit of a what the? I’m not used to our family competing at that level on the sporting front. Meanwhile, on Thursday, she’s off to the Sydney Eisteddfod to compete with her ballet solo and lyrical number. Wow! She’s a busy girl and we are by default. Wish her luck. It’s the classical ballet solo which really matters!
Anyway, I might head off now. I managed to sleep through the first half of the day and jumped on here before I’d had breakfast or even my first cup of tea for the day. So, I’d better reverse engineer my day and get on with it.
It’s Sunday night here, and I thought you might like to join me watching Masterchef. Thank goodness, I’ve already had dinner or I’d be salivating like a blood hound all over the keyboard and the dog blissfully sleeping underneath. Tonight, they’re fusing two cultures together, and I just saw the most divine lobster dish along with an incredible dessert which personified was pure indulgence. Sorry, I can’t remember what was in it, but since none of us can actually sample these dishes perhaps that’s possibly a good thing. Despite the judges’ rapturous praise, we’ll just convince ourselves it all tastes like cardboard or some equally bland substance.
How was your week?
The big news here in Australia is that we voted in our Federal Election yesterday and we have a change of government. Prime Minister Mr Scott Morrison from the Liberal Party has been replaced by Mr Anthony Albanese of the Labor Party. It’s still early days but the analysts are busy. I must admit I feel sorry for people who have lost their seats, regardless of their political persuasion.
Last week for me, revolved around our daughter’s dance performance in a series of concerts featuring young talent aged 13-21 on the NSW Central Coast. It’s not easy to land yourself a spot and Miss had 2-3 previous attempts. So, this was a huge celebration. There’s also relief because she wants to be a professional ballerina, and getting through this year was a sign she’s on the right track. She was doing her contemporary dance, which involved picking up a rose with her feet and transferring it around which doing all her “tricks”. I’m not usually anxious watching her, and you’d think I might’ve been sitting there proud as a peacock especially wearing my fancy new scarf. Instead, I kept worrying she was going to drop the rose, or else would go wrong. We’d had a stressful afternoon chasing up a few requirements last minute and catching every red light in town when time was of the essence. I could mention something about Murphy’s Law, except that her performance went so well, that I’m just grateful.
Meanwhile, I’ve been reading a great new book, which I guess could well be deemed a diversion as I’m already reading a few books and need to get back to my WWI research and analysis. However, I popped into my local bookshop looking for a book of short stories by Tony Birch: Dark As Last Night. I needed to order that one in, but as one who has no capacity to resist temptation in bookshops, I had the most fleeting glance at the shelves and came home with Kerri Maher’s: The Paris Bookseller. It’s “inspired” by the story of Sylvia Beach who found the iconic English-speaking bookstore: Shakespeare and Company. It just so happens that I did a solo poetry reading there in 1992 as an impressionable 23 year old. So, the book is incredibly personal for me. However, so far the plot focuses around James Joyce and the banning of Ulysses, which feels quite relevant these days with what’s been going on in many political circles. I also finished Irish philosopher, Michael Harding’s: A Cloud Where The Birds Rise. It’s made up of excerpts from his reflection on life published via his weekly column in the Irish Times.
In other news here, we’re trying to have some kind of radical clean-up. I don’t really like the term “declutter”, which is just so dismissive and disrespectful about your precious treasures. An excess of books, for example, is not clutter. It’s inspiration, education, transformation all within those printed pages, and in too many cases, too difficult to part with. However, at least I’m getting through a few books atm, but I don’t think I’ll be able to part with any of these They’re all keepers! Yet, I at least had some success in the bathroom and cleared out a garbage bag of potions and Miss has thrown out four bags of stuff from her room. All of that barely scratches the surface, but it’s progress.
Lastly, Miss and I went for a few brief visits to the beach to destress last week. Couldn’t resist photographing our feet in front of the view.
We also spotted some inspirational words painted onto rocks at the far end of the beach:
Frankly, parenting can take you down some wild and random roads, and I never quite know where I’m going to end up. Or, what death-defying challenge I’m going to be facing next. How I’m going to be stretched right out of my comfort zone. Stretched, and stretched and stretched until breaking point feels like blessed relief.
Just as a bit of background, I’ll share that when our son was in kindergarten aged five, a friend and I cottoned on that what you really want as a parent, is an average kid. After all, academically the school system caters best for a child of average intelligence, and you don’t need to be Einstein to realize that if your progeny has any kind of talent, you’ll not only be driving from here to Timbuctoo, you’ll also need a second or third job to pay for it.
However, at the same time both my friend and I couldn’t resist booking our kids into enriching after-school activities, and we paid the price. Her son went on to excel in soccer, and she ended up driving out to the farthest reaches of the state, and almost into the outback. Meanwhile, we’ve driven to the ends of the earth for dance, sailing, and scouts. I have to be honest and say that in some ways being locked down for a few years gave us blessed relief. We could actually stay home. Yet, at the same time, we missed watching them, being part of these communities ourselves, and seeing our friends there as well. It hasn’t all been a one way street.
Anyway, this brings me to the actual good news, and that was that our daughter was accepted into the Youth in the Performing Arts Concerts (YIPA) held locally. It’s held annually for young people aged 13 to 21 years. Being selected was a significant achievement, and an indication that she’s climbed a few extra rungs up the ladder. Wow! Where the ladder is heading at this stage, we don’t know. However, progress is progress.
However, the downside of these performances is all the work which goes on behind the scenes. Today, I spent the afternoon dashing around like a maniac chasing last minute paraphernalia she required, but we actually got her there, on time, in one piece, and she performed to perfection. We were so proud of her, but I’ve got to be honest and say I was just relieved it went without a hitch, especially given how she incorporates the rose into her incredible tricks. It always goes without a hitch. However, since I can barely walk with a mug of tea without spilling it, my own anxiety an run wild. Indeed, I spent most of this performance fixated on that rose and praying nothing would go wrong. Dance, is after all, a nerve-wracking business.
Yes! It all went brilliantly!
Anyway, last night’s performance was breath-taking. We very proud of her…and relieved. I am now looking forward to watching her performance again on the video in the comfort of our lounge. Phew! Pure joy!
Does this trigger any memories for you? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
PS Here’s a flash back to her first YIPA audition 2019. Aged 13.
Wishing you a Happy and Blessed Easter and Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share! Easter was very low key and virtually non-existent at our place this year, because I fell at my daughter’s dance competition last Wednesday and for some reason haven’t been feeling right ever since in ways that go well beyond the sore foot.
The dance competition was intense on steroids both in terms of how incredibly talented, moving and beautiful each and every ones of these dances was, but also in terms of the huge amount of physical and emotional energy it demanded from each of the dancers, their teachers and parents. Miss competed in seven dances I think, which really was a phenomenal effort especially when you factor all the costume changes and steps involved. It’s mind-blowing and I really don’t know how she does it, except she’s been doing it since she was three, and it is her absolute passion and calling. I doubt this is something you can even consider going into half-mast.
The life of a dancer is thwart. There are days where all your ducks line up andeverything goes your way. However, there are also times when it can completely fall apart, which we haven’t really experienced. While I’m a Christian, I still suspect there’s a Lord of the Dance out there too, who is either for or against you on the day. It’s almost like you need to leave a burnt offering on the altar outside when you go in. Well, of course, I didn’t do that, but I did pray that she would come first before she did her classical ballet solo with her new tutu and routine. I wrote a note to myself: Is it wrong to pray for your daughter to come first with her ballet solo? The other dance mums I conferred with thought it was fine, and were equally enthusiastic to see her perform, which was absolutely delightful and made my day. There’s inexpressible joy, but it can get a bit foreboding, and I can’t even begin to describe what goes through your mind while you’re sitting there. However, her dance went beautifully and she won. She has won other sections before, but this meant so much more. She was competing in the open section which is the highest level, but what it meant was that she’s on track for reaching her dream of becoming a ballerina. It was a resounding: “YES!!!” (although she still has such a long way to go!!)
Of course, I was proud. However, my overriding emotion was relief and pure joy!
However, somehow this ridiculously compulsive book addict managed to make it to the the local Pearl Beach Book Sale on Saturday. Trust me. For a book addict like yours truly, it’s up there on a temptation level right alongside a chocolate shop. Moreover, since all the Easter eggs had virtually sold out by Thursday according to my husband, feasting on books it is.
The other drawcard about this Pearl Beach Book Sale is that the books are top notch. Pearl Beach is a rather exclusive retreat, and attracts a lot of creative people, who seem to have great taste in reading material. I arrived mid-afternoon, and I don’t know how much the books were at the outset, but I was paying $2.00 each. Of course, this was an absolute steal. So, it didn’t make too much sense to be too selective. It was more a case of fill a box, another box, and while you’re thinking about it, why don’t you fill this one too. The irony of all this was that I’m actually in the process of seriously downsizing our book collection, and the boot of the very same car I drove to the book sale, was full of books I’m planning to drop off for the next book sale at the local PCYC.
Another issue is that I am not a voracious book reader. I read a lot doing my history research. However, that’s mainly involved old newspapers online. I also read blog posts. I also do a few Bible studies and try to read my Bible daily. So, it’s not like I’m not reading at all. I’m just not one of those people who polish off a couple of novels a week. Geoff was doing that without any dramas when he was commuting to work on the train. However, he’s been working from home for the last two years. So, he’s reading has dropped off a lot. He’s just finished reading a Harlan Coben novel: Hold Tight. Have you read it? We’ve been making our way through a few TV series based on his novels. I mostly love them, although there was one that I felt had too much violence, and was just too seedy. I managed to pick up another Harben Coben at the book sale: Just One Look.
Meanwhile, we didn’t really celebrate Easter. I haven’t been well since my fall last week, and my dad had surgery last week and we thought we’d leave it a week or two. Yesterday, was also my brother’s 50th birthday and he didn’t mind when we got together. However, I did spend last night going through my photos and fishing him out. I might actually manage to get this photo attempt printed up.
Anyway, I hope you and yours had a Happy and blessed Easter.
Love and blessings,
All dance photos were taken by Emily Stoddart Photography.
Age didn’t soften the blow. He was old, and she was old. Still, his death was brutal. She’d held onto his ice-cold body until the neighbour called their daughter. “It was time.” No! It would never be time. They would dance together for eternity: the swan and her beloved prince.
Celeste made them tea, right through Winter, and barely noticed he never said a word.
Now, the snow was thawing, and his chair had risen from the dead.
She couldn’t bear it.
The neighbor found Celeste lying on the snow still holding the axe.
For those of you who know me well, you’ll know our daughter dances seriously. After a very disjointed couple of years, dance is back with a vengeance and I spent hours at the studio last week for open week and it’s dance competition this week. Part of me quite enjoys living and breathing dance, but am just a bystander and with my health issues, it’s really difficult to keep up with the demands of high pressure dance. At today’s competition, it wasn’t one of the dancers on stage who crashed and had a fall. It was yours truly who managed her feat of brilliance from her chair. I ended up on the floor and the whole competition came to a grinding halt for a good 10-15 minutes. I felt humiliated. What no one tells you about having offspring pursuing a high octane career path, is that they’re taking you with them. You also have to measure up. Sadly, I don’t believe I can. Well, not in a physical sense anyway. However, I’d imagine I’d be hard to beat if imagination had anything to do with it. However, that’s not the domain of a dance mum, and could even be a curse. Much better to stay in your place. Fire up the engine. Sew up those pointe shoes, and pay the bills. (Humph, feeling a bit sorry for myself tonight and very sore. Perhaps, my love affair with dance might return again in the morning.)
This weekend, I’m getting in a bit of a head start. It’s Saturday afternoon – not Monday afternoon at about 2.55pm AEST when I’m clicking on the upload button with minutes to spare- or too late, as has also been the case. Anyway, it’s raining here again, and I’m having a pyjama day. I’ve been sending a few emails, and had a chat with a friend who spoke about needing “physical people”, and I mentioned that my friends online were hardly going to jump out of my computer screen to join me for a cup of tea. However, I’ve been friends with so many of you for such a long time, and our connections have been personal, even intimate. Indeed, some of you know me better than my friends on the ground, especially after these crazy covid lockdowns. We’re living in a weird world. At least, we were. Even I’m starting to venture out a bit more albeit tentatively.
We’ve had a few monumental weeks lately what with Miss turning Sweet 16 and getting her learner’s permit and driving round for hours. Then Jonathon turned 18 and officially became a man last week (whatever that means). However, this week another line was drawn in the sand and I can’t wait to see what unfolds.
As you might’ve already seen, Geoff and our son drove down to Geelong in Victoria last Saturday so he could board the Tall Ship, Young Endeavour, on Monday and sail through to Sydney. It’s a young training scheme, and the ship was gifted to Australia by the British government back in 1988 for Australia’s Bicentenary. I’d heard of the ship years ago, but our interest was piqued when we saw it berthed in Stanley when we were down in Tasmania on holidays. Geoff is a member of Gosford Sailing Club and our son was also sailing for quite a few years, but had pulled back and then there was covid.
While they were down in Geelong, Geoff and J had a chance to look around and check the region out. After seeing his photos, I decided to head on down via Google Earth to join the dots. While it was interesting to check out the waterfront and historic architecture (at least, by Australian standards), but I was particularly drawn to series of colourful bollards of historic people from the Geelong area. Here’s a link: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2022/03/25/bollard-people-of-geelong-australia/
Unfortunately, I didn’t make it down to Geelong because our daughter had a dance audition here, and she has another one tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I decided to start collating my flash fiction pieces. So far, all of these were written as contributions to Friday Fictioneers, which is hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. It’s been quite a fascinating and invigorating process. Some of these were quite good. Many of them that I’d thought were quite good, were a bit average on review but had a spark and I’ve rewritten probably about ten of them during the week and I’m feeling pretty stoked. I won’t talk about the rest. They seemed to pass muster at the time, but it looks like they’ll be making their way to the cutting room floor.
How are you? Hope was your week? I hope it went well.
My week has rushed by in a blur, and it feels like I’ve done nothing, achieved nothing and have simply been hovering in suspended animation. That’s not depression talking, butt more a state of conscious forgetfulness. Where was I last week? What happened’/ sometimes, it’s also a case of : “Who am I?” and it’s just as well my name is written down somewhere close by to remind me.
The reality is that I was actually rather busy. We are a family of four humans and three dogs. My husband works in IT for a university in Sydney with a hospital attached and has been the only network engineer available to go on site because his colleague is unvaccinated. Two people is pretty understaffed anyway, but with the overseas students being axed for the last two years, the universities have been a severe casualty in so many ways and the axe has been falling everywhere. We also have two teenagers – our son is now 17 and has always been known as “Mister” on here but he turns 18 in March, and has rather outgrown it. Miss is now 15 and working part-time at McDonalds and still dancing up a storm. So, we’ve been busy with end of year dance concerts, Geoff has end of year Christmas parties this week and I actually managed to post 17 Christmas cards.
Are you sending actual physical Christmas cards this year? Do you write a Christmas newsletter? These have always been big traditions for me. However, I don’t believe I sent more than a couple of Christmas cards over the last two years and I might have forgotten to email out my Christmas newsletter last year.
I’ve pulled my socks up this year, because I’ve realised that these Christmas cards are doing so much more than simply adding to Hallmark’s coffers every year. They help us to stay connected to a host of people who still mean the world to us, but we don’t see very often. They’re particularly important with people who aren’t online or Facebook. I don’t tend to ring people just for a chat anymore like I used to either. Here in Sydney we’ve had that massive four month lockdown. We live a bit North of Sydney in what in termed Greater Sydney. Now, Geoff is usually commuting to Sydney five days a week for work and I’d be down there at least once a month. However, we’ve only been down there once since the end of June and that was to see my parents and brother. We didn’t go anywhere else. We’ve also been laying low at home, and haven’t been back to physical Church so that’s a whole different swag of people we’re not seeing. So, the Christmas cards and the newsletter feel particularly important this year. We need to connect!
The weather has been pretty lousy lately but it’s a bright sunny day outside, and here I am indoors tapping away. The beach is only a few blocks away too. However, I have a support worker here today, and will have to wait til she leaves at 5.00pm. Meanwhile, there’s a pavlova cooling in the oven for our son to take to his Venturer meeting tonight, and then I’m onto preparing the fruit for the Christmas cake. I know it’s a bit late by most people’s calculations. However, Mum often rushed it through the night before Christmas so I’m way ahead.
Before I head off, I’ll leave you with a photo of the formal dress I picked up for our daughter for $20.00 at the opportunity shop last week. She doesn’t have a formal this year, but got all dolled up for photos with some friends who had their graduation formal. Here’s a pick:
Hope you’re going well and I look forward to hearing from you!
This weekend, I’m afraid I can only offer you some hypothetical pavlova. I was meant to make a pavlova for my son to take to Venturers tomorrow night and I forgot. Well, I thinking I’d probably make it tomorrow anyway, but I had actually forgotten about it. Or, perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Last week was so incredibly stressful, that I’ve gone splat over the weekend and not done much at all except recover.
Last Friday night was the first of three dance concerts our daughter will be performing in over ten days. I know that sounds a bit insane. However, due to the never-ending four month Sydney lockdown, production kept getting deferred until the first performance last Friday night and a second performance coming up on Wednesday night. The annual dance concert will be held on Sunday night. Then, we will have this event called Christmas, which is actually very important to me both spiritually and in terms of catching up with my huge extended family. However, every year it just seems to get more exhausting with me wondering are we actually going to get there? Or, are be going to break down somewhere in between?
At least, we’re not hosting this year and aren’t madly shifting furniture, ripping up carpet, laying down floorboards and painting the room. Yes, we did get the order wrong and had to be mighty careful with the painting. However, we learned for next time, which is why the next room hasn’t been touched.
Last week, I think I mentioned that the weather’s been really lousy and we’ve had a lot of rain over the last couple of weeks. Well, we actually had a couple of days of brilliant sunshine and yours truly actually made it done to the beach and went for a swim. I also just sat on the beach and soaked up the sunshine and almost felt a wave of electricity flow through me. It was bliss! We only live about a ten minute walk from the beach, but I don’t get there as often as I should.
While sharing photos of my daughter and I, I thought I’d post this one taken of us in our new pyjamas at Peter Alexander. They were having a Black Friday saleich extended to Monday. I also bought a magical pair of red sequin Dorothy slippers, although instead of tapping them together and going home, I want to travel overseas. I’d love to be a free spirit like that at least in theory. However, having lived in the same house for twenty years now, that would seem to suggest I like bedrock stability instead.
Well, I think that’s all I’m going to share for now. It’s really late.
So, how has your week been? I’d love to hear from you in comments!