Weekend Coffee Share 11th March, 2018.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

If we were having coffee, you might need to hold me up this morning. Prop open my eyelids. I was burning the midnight oil again last night, and if you check out my previous post, I was Writing By Rainbow Light.

You see, I was feeling a bit agitated like I needed to burn up some nervous energy. I couldn’t quite pinpoint it at the time. However, we watched a documentary by Michael Moore about gun violence in America called Bowling Columbine. Have you seen it? He was trying to understand why the rate of gun deaths are so high in America and looked at a number of possible culprits like the availability of guns, high levels of gun ownership, ethnic diversity and I could have this wrong, but I think it came down to a culture of fear. I’m not sure. I’m not sure why channel SBS had such a focus on guns in the US last night, because this was followed by a show about the NRA and attempts to tighten gun controls after Sandy Hook, which failed. No wonder I was feeling wound up and stressed after this. I felt powerless and gun violence literally makes me feel sick. I lead a very quiet life when the rest of the family goes out, and I just don’t encounter such things. The worst I might see is a rumble between my pups, and so I haven’t been desensitized. I must say that it’s a different story when everyone else comes home.

In other news, I am still fighting off the sinus infection. Fergus the Phlegmeister…buzz off! Today, I bought some kind of sinus flushing kit. I swear I’ve lost weight since I caught this thing and the kilos just keep pouring out my nose.

Last week, it was our son’s 14th birthday. Being a school day, it was fairly low key. However, my mother came up and we went out for lunch together, which was really great. This is quite a rarity as we usually do things with the kids in tow, or she has the kids so I can have a break. It also happened to be International Women’s Day, so it was good to spend it with her. In previous years, I’ve gone in the local march but it wasn’t held this year due to the council amalgamation. Wasn’t real happy about that as I like to do my annual thing  to fly the flag, especially as I can feel it’s the last bit of independent woman left in me. Anyway, these days disability rights are more my concern.

Anyway, I made my son what could have been the richest cake in history…a chocolate cake filled with Nutella and butter cream and topped with lush chocolate icing, and I decorated it with strawberries. It looked scrumdidillyumptuous, but I didn’t get to try it. He took it off to youth and, as expected, they scoffed the lot. Didn’t expect anything but the crumbs to come back. They were down on the waterfront and gave him a bit shout out.

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On Saturday, I finally managed to watch our son sailing his boat…Fury, a Flying 11. Since I’m usually driving our daughter to and from dance, I don’t get to the sailing club very often and my husband misses out on much of the dancing as well. Anyway, the weather was glorious with warm blue skies without too much heat and the wind seemed to be about right. At least, I didn’t hear any complaints. If you’d like to read more about it, you can click through here: Sailing On The Wings of Poesie

By the way, just a brief commercial break to say that I just found Rosie, our Border Collie x shark, chewing on my watch, which she’d picked off the bathroom vanity and she chewed through one of the bands. Grr! This chewing is starting to add up. I’m off to the butcher today. Next, she’ll be off to the dentist for extractions!

I also had a bit to say about that in Puppies of Mass Destruction.

In terms of writing, once again I took part in Friday Fictioneers. This week’s effort, A Stone In My Pocket, addressed the spiritual ramifications of suicide and also referred to a philosophical dilemma known as Pascal’s Wager. This proposes that it’s safer to believe in God than not, because there are no consequences if God doesn’t exist.

Well, I think that sums up the last week fairly well. How was your week? I look forward to popping round and catching up!

Best wishes,

Rowena

BTW The featured image this week was taken in Cologne in 1992 and I’m drinking a mug of Hot Chocolate with cream. Yum!

Weekend Coffee Share – 4th March, 2018.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

Hey, so what’s been going on in your neck of the woods this week? I had a virtual visit to London catching up with  Geoff Le Pard and Dog who ventured out for a walk in the snow where Dog was a bit sensitive about show getting in between his paws. Next, I scooted off to Birmingham with  Suzie81 Speaks and froze through  Snowmageddon. Meanwhile, it’s been hot and sunny here in Sydney, but not as scorchingly hot as it has been.

I know it doesn’t sound very exciting, but I am still fighting off Fergus the phlemmy cough and sinus infection. Consequently, I’ve been sleeping a lot and trying to stay home as much as possible to fight it off. It has been making me a bit grumpy, but it’s given me the chance to read.

Atticus (played by Gregory Peck) and Scout in To Kill A Mockingbird.

Read…That’s right I am re-reading Harper Lee’s: To Kill A Mockingbird. Have you re-read it since you studied it at school? Or, perhaps you haven’t read the book at all. I’d been meaning to re-read it for a few years, as one of my favourite all-time quotes comes from the book:

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

However, it’s simply been phenomenal to re-read the book and read the action around the quotes and truly understand what they were fully intended to mean within context. That’s so much richer, yet perhaps more limited, than when the quote appears all by itself drifting through space without a base.

Another quote also really resonated with me:

“I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.- Atticus Finch”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

This quote appeared in reference to Mrs Dubois who’d become addicted to morphine and was went through the horrors of withdrawal not because it would save her life, but because she wanted die free of the drug. After Atticus explained what she did, Jem and Scout came to respect her courage and understand somewhat why was she so cantankerous and difficult.

I also relate to this quote myself in terms of my health. I keep on fighting and keep staying a few steps ahead. This doesn’t feel like bravery or courage, but those qualities aren’t born out of hardship and mess and not a bed of roses.

This week has also had a few triumphs for the kids. Our daughter has an audition coming up which requires playing a musical instrument. However, she hasn’t touched her violin for over a year, but fortunately she has another week up her sleeve and much to my pride and irritation, she’s already playing Fur Elise better than me…the good old reliable tortoise. Meanwhile, at sailing our son was helping another young man who’d just got his Flying Eleven and it was his first time out. I was really stoked that the club thought Mr was good enough to go out with him. That was a really positive sign of confidence and respect. Better than winning a race…Well, almost!

Mr at the Sailing Club.

In terms of my writing this week,  I participated in Friday Fictioneers again. This week I based my flash on the story of Australian boxer, Les Darcy who tragically died young at the age of 21 in Memphis, Tennessee. I’ve added some bio details as well as a link to an excellent piece of writing by Australian author, Ruth Park who wrote his biography.

Oops. I almost forgot to mention that we had had a bit of local excitement this week. A small sailing boat was beached during some heavy rain and with it came all the questions of how did it happen? Who owned the boat? And, perhaps the ultimate question…could she be saved? I know how much our boats have meant to us and this boat was vintage with timber trim and had character. Since there are no secrets around here, it didn’t take me long to find out who owned the boat and how it came to rest. Beached Yacht, Ettalong, Australia.

Anyway, that’s about all for now. How has your week been? I hope it’s been a good one.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Eclectic Alli.

xx Rowena

 

 

Weekend Coffee Share 21st January, 2018.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

You’d better hold your horses and psych yourself up. We’re not having coffee this week. Rather, we’re piling into the dog mobile and heading off to Dog Beach. I hope you’re feeling brave, because you’re taking our 6 month old Border Collie x kelpie pups, Zac and Rosie. They have such raw energy, that you could end up flying along behind them like a kite. On the upside, just think of all the energy you’ll burn off!  Meanwhile, I’ll take Lady, but I will give you a hand.

Dog Beach: my daughter inscribed this with a stick in the sand.

How has your week been? I hope you’ve had a great one.

This week’s been a bit of a struggle for me in some ways. I’ve still been battling The Cough, which I’ve now christened “Fergus”. No offence to anyone named Fergus, but it sort of sounds like wheezy creepings within my lungs. I went back to the doctor again and am on another round or two of antibiotics, but am finally on the mend. Enough to shout a yahoo, but not quite enough to leap in the air yet.

As you could well understand yourselves, something like a cough or cold which is chronically annoying but not necessarily serious, can still be a pain in the neck. Moreover, you still feel you have to keep doing life and stuff, while feeling entitled to your own private nurse and a good strong dose of TLC. I also want to be a part of life and do things with my husband kids, family and friends and not be shut away in the house all the time. So, I feel like I’ve swallowed Dr Dolittle’s classic Push-Me-Pull-You and it’s been hard to juggle it all.

Both of the kids have been away at different camps this week. Our daughter was on a Young Carers Camp at Camp Breakaway and our son has been away with scouts. While you’d think this would’ve given me a breather, I still had to provide some transport and our daughter had to pop back for a dance workshop. So, there was more driving. Packing for Scouts, was also an ordeal. They provide such easy to follow check lists, and yet the kids inevitably leave something behind at both ends. Trying to get His Lordship’s bag packed was also like pulling teeth. Indeed, I’ve seen him more compliant going to the dentist.

As they say, never work with children or animals.

Indeed, it was quite a deal piling all three dogs in the dog mobile with three humans tonight. The pups were so exuberant. Zac even ran over the rocks at a sprint, and I could see how these dogs could walk over the backs of sheep. They’re unstoppable. Meanwhile, Lady has this way of surruptitiously wandering off, and at one point was heading for the sand dunes, which are known to house rabbits and  other critters. This area runs up to the road and as Lady has zero traffic sense, Geoff had to bolt after her. Meanwhile, Rosie started to follow Lady. Humph! Out came the leads!

 

By the way, I almost forgot to mention that after dropping my daughter back at camp, I went on a bit of a detour. Indeed, I am the Detour Queen. The camp was on the coast about two hours North of Sydney and there are some wonderful beaches up there. So, I puttered down to Budgewoi where I had half a dozen battered prawns for lunch and then spotted a sign for Norah Head. My friend’s family had a holiday house there when I was at school, and I still remember a few very special birthdays in the sand dunes. Those sand dunes were revegetated years ago and have in effect disappeared. However, the lighthouse is still standing. No one’s buried that along with my youth.

Norah Head Lighthouse, NSW Central Coast, Australia. 

With school going back in a week, I’ve been working desperately hard to get the house sorted out. However, progress took a huge step back in a sense today when we finally got the Summer clothes down from the roof. I have been known to frequent the local opportunity (or thrift) shops on a rather regular basis and have spotted more than the odd bargain, especially when it comes to my daughter. She could become a jetsetter and have what looks like a year’s worth of outfits without spending a cent. However, her wardrobe couldn’t possibly house all of this, so we’re having to do a cull and I’m thinking garage sale. Meanwhile a Mt Everest or two of clothes is choking up the loungeroom and my husband’s peering through fabric and crates to watch the cricket.

It’s become very clear that never of us need to go clothes shopping for a very, very long time. On the other hand, there’s some scope for me in the shoe department, especially after Rosie ate my favourite shoe for lunch. They’re nothing glam. Rather, they’re shoes for people who work on their feet or need added support. Or what my daughter condescending refers to as “granny shoes”. But they worked for me and sensible shoes is where I’m at these days.

Speaking about fashion, it’s an exceptionally rare moment that I even think of fashion. However, I was getting to the point of shooting The Cough, and spotted a very glamorous Vogue magazine and decided buy it and stick my face over the top. I haven’t gotten around to that yet but here’s the photo and perhaps it can ignite a few dreams of your own. I’m getting more and more interested in fantasy these days. Reality is over-rated.

Reality is only limited by your imagination!

As I’ve been reading back over this coffee share, I’ve detected a note of melancholy and wondered whether I should zoop it a bit bit. Add a bit of razzle dazzle and make it more positive. But, we don’t have to be all happy happy joy joy all the time and sometimes we do just need to move into what I’ll call a minor key, before we can reach the high note.

So, how was your week? I hope you’ve had a good one. Please let me know what you’ve been up to in the comments. 

This has been another Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Eclectic Alli ,  Here’s the Linky Come on and join in!  We’d love to have you along!

Weekend Coughy Share: September 17, 2016.

If we were having coffee today, I’d be asking you to give me a bit of a pep talk and I’d be more than happy to pep you up as well. It’s a lot easy to pep someone else up when you’re  struggling, than fire up your own engine again.

Last weekend, I got hit with a nasty blast of bronchitis followed up by what appears to be a diluted version of Influenza A. Our son has been sick for the last 2 weeks and has had 10 days off school and my Mum caught “what he was having” and her doctor took a swab which came back with the goods.  Mum was put on 50mg and Mister 25mg of prednisone for 3 days. Poor Mister was in a horrid twilight zone and found it quite disconcerting but is off the stuff now.

There’s never a good time to get sick and to be perfectly honest, I am 200% thankful that I’m getting better. With the auto-immune disease its lung complications, Winter bugs have turned into pneumonia before so I should just thankful that I only lost a week and am doing so well.

The trouble is that this wasn’t the week I wanted to miss. It wasn’t the week where I wanted to be in bed. I missed the last of my adult ballet lessons on Thursday night and I’d really been looking forward to it. Had wanted to do something special…a tiara, a tutu. Definitely not a call out from my sick bed to send my apologies.

Today, I’d been planning to visit my old school for the Annual Garden Party. I used to go every year without fail but have been sick for the last two and now we can add another year to that. However, this is the school’s Centenary and it would have extra special and I might also have run into someone I knew. Adding insult to injury, it’s a beautifully sunny Spring day but, as my matter of fact husband pointed out, I am not perfectly well. No chance of getting there, let alone getting around.

Moreover, this weekend marks the 40th anniversary of my home Church. I have visited about 5 times in the last ten years but I was really looking forward to going to a dinner tonight and the service tomorrow. I’d even done a quick scan through my photos and emailed a few through. I’m not getting to that either.

By this stage, if I wasn’t coughing my lungs out, I’d really be feeling sorry for myself…except it’s probably a good thing that I’m still too crook to have any motivation to even get out of my comfy chair. I am telling myself that these are scenes from the past, which is also why it’s not that easy to pop back. I’ve moved both geographically and personally since then, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t want to be part of these celebrations.

Getting A Lift Out of Quicksand.

However, the good thing about life is, that it is full of ups and downs. While one thing knocks you down, something  else lifts you up. While this route might not have been the one you’d planned, it might even turn out better.

So it was last night. My daughter had returned from her ten days at two different camps, full of stories and chatter. Much to my surprise, she still had enough energy to get to her ballet lesson and was practicing her steps in the kitchen. I recognised the steps and terms from my lesson  and she started conferring with me.  “How did you do it?” It was a step called the “pas de chat” or cat step. Even though I felt like my legs were moving in a fog, we were working on our dancing together in such an intimate, personal way.

Miss with her dancing Shoes

You could say it was an incredible mother-daughter moment but it went beyond that. Or, at least the mother daughter moments we’ve had before. We were two dancers chatting in the studio corridor, comparing steps and conferring…we were both standing on  the inside. I was no longer outside the circle.

A dancer? How on earth did I become a dancer when I have a disability? When I can struggle to walk, especially down your common footpath without tripping and having a nasty fall?

Probably, in the very same way these incredible athletes have made it to the Paralympics. Somewhere along the way, a “can’t” became a “can” stirring up a kind of levitating magic, bringing us all out of the doldrums and on our way.

As a Mum, this meant the world to me. Being a disabled parent with a chronic illness, there’s been so much I couldn’t do and it eats away at your confidence but it can also send the message that you don’t care. You can’t be bothered. That you don’t love your child.

All of this came about by not only thinking from my daughters’ point of view but also by actually stepping inside her shoes. Well, buying my own to be accurate.

I was stoked.

So, instead of being disabled Mum, sick Mum, or too tired Mum, I was ballet Mum who not only knew how to translate the French into steps, but didn’t need to translate how it felt to dance.I know how it feels when that joie de vivre pulses through my body, reinvigorating the dead wood and making it sing.

So my song is: “Dancing…you make my feet sing”…da..da..na…nah!

Meanwhile, I’ll fly through the last week, which largely falls under the banner of watching the Paralympics. If you’ve been following my posts, you’ll know they’ve blown me away. There’s been:

Why We Must Watch the Paralympics.

Sowing the Seed for Rio.

Also, although I’m very much a thinker and usually watch little TV, I have a few  chinks in my intellectual armour and one of them came to a finale this week…The Batchelor.

My rationale for watching the show  is seeing how people tick in this trapped in the lift type situation. And who wouldn’t mind being trapped in a lift with a young hunk/babe? Then, there’s also the big question mark…who is he going to pick? The suspense really gets to me. I wonder if he knows straight from the start. Or, is he standing back like a sensible sort approaching a smorgasbord, cautiously checking everything out before carefully making his selection? Adding to tension, the number of girls dwindles every week. So, you’re also trying to guess whose going home each week. Who isn’t going to get a rose? Viewer favourites emerged and for some reason a very catty girl kept hanging in there, using up all her nine lives. I was starting to wonder whether Richie was completely blind, when she finally revealed herself in all her venomous glory and she was straight out the door. Thank goodness!

The weeks went by and I been watching it with the kids, trying to nut it out. It might sound like a funny thing to watch with your kids but there were mainly adventure trips and a lot of talking going on. Richie did mention “his frustration” after getting out of the mansion… Three months of celibacy in that pressure cooker would not have been easy.

Richie with Nikki and Alex.

Anyway, we’re watching the last night and he’s down to two girls and from all the indications I could see, he was going to choose . However, much to everyone’s surprise, he chose single Mum, Alex. This prompted a huge outcry from viewers angry with Richie and coming out swords blazing for Nikki.

Miss with her dancing Shoes

It’s been very interesting to watch. I don’t know Alex well enough to comment but I’ve been incredibly impressed at how Nikki’s conducted herself. Thinking she’d won Richie’s heart and was going to be the one, she’s publicly come out supporting the couple, wishing them well and the two girls are still friends. She’s expressed no animosity towards  Richie but is heartbroken  nonetheless. I feel like giving Nikki a huge hug and telling her what an inspiration she’s been. Such a great role model for young woman. She might not have won Richie’s heart, but she’s won the nation’s respect and I’m sure the right person for her is just working out how to ride his horse and will soon get on his way. Indeed, Nikki might just have become Australia’s answer to Pippa Middleton. A winner in a different race and definitely not a loser.

Nikki in a very stunning dress.

So, for someone who didn’t get very far geographically this week, I actually covered a lot of ground. It’s amazing just how far you can travel in your head.

How was your week? I hope it’s been a good one and I look forward to hearing from you!

The Weekend Coffee Share is hosted by Part Time Monster.  You can join this week’s Coffee Share on her blog or by clicking on the linky soon.

Love & Best wishes (and a few coughs),

Rowena

PS So far I’ve taken no photos of me wearing my beloved ballet shoes. My perfectionism is rising to the fore again and while I could have a go at dancing, photography is another story. I’m wanting “the shot”. I’ve been planning to take some photos at the local wharf where the soft, shiny satin will contrast the weathered timber. Stay tuned!

Sorry I exceeded the word limit this week. Haven’t got out much.

Happiness: The Proust Questionnaire.

The Proust Questionnaire, starts off with a serious bang: What is your idea of perfect happiness?

It was quite ironic that I was thinking about happiness when things on the home front were anything but.

As I sat down at my computer tackling the question, there was an incredible thunder storm outside and the rain was bucketing down in huge cascading dumps with something of the force of an AK-47. Our roof had been damaged in the big storm back in April and it sprang another leak right above the printer while Geoff was out for dinner. This forced yours truly of “Break-it” not “fix-it” fame, to come to the rescue setting up buckets and towels… all while researching happiness!

Photo: Geoff Newton.

By the way, did I mention the thunder strikes?!! It was wild out there.

It wasn’t much better inside either.

I’m not one to whinge or complain and I usually tolerate a fair amount of medical crap before I happen to mention: “I am not feeling well” or “the kids are sick”. This is usually code for: “we’re on standby for an ambulance”.

So, storm outside, we’ve been battling nasty coughs and colds inside and the kids have been home from school. These things happen in Winter but my son has asthma and I have Institial Lung Disease, so for us anything more than a common cold starts to press alarm bells. We have coughs that would clear train carriages and Mister’s nickname is now “foghorn”. He gets this cough most Winters and I remember standing over his cot as a tot and freaking out, not knowing when to intervene and take him to hospital. Our local hospital is in Gosford. Going to hospital is therefore known locally as “going to Gosford”, a phrase which chills most parents as they remember long sleepless nights in casualty and usually nothing much to report. That said, Miss was admitted with a UTI when she was 8 months old and we both spent a week in Gosford. Definitely NOT my idea of a holiday.

Meanwhile, I somehow managed to get the dog off to the vet for his shots. Bilbo is almost 9 years old and as the vet kept unkindly reminding him, he’s “an old man”. He might be old but he certainly hadn’t forgotten the vet’s. I don’t know whether it was the smell or what but he knew. After all, he’s not an idiot and definitely knew he wasn’t going for his morning run at the beach!!

Bilbo with his ball. Actually, that’s another dog’s ball. Humph! Just call him obsessed!

When you see Bilbo running along the beach chasing the ball, he looks perfectly fit and I hang onto that. Once a large dog starts hitting 9 years of age, however, you can’t help asking: “How long is that ball of string? How long does he have left?” Not being millionaires and having the kids, we have to be pretty pragmatic about vet bills. Our bank account can’t cope with unknown lengths of string. It’s finite.

So, Bilbo has lost a fair amount of weight since Lady arrived, which we hope is just the added exercise and possibly even the desire to impress his new friend. But, at the same time, when your dog has always been portly, you do wonder whether such weight loss is indeed healthy. He’s also had trouble with fleas since Lady arrived and has terrible dermatitis. It’s been Winter so I haven’t been keen to wash him a lot so it’s persisted. I have applied a bit of cortisone cream but it hasn’t really helped. There is also a lump on his head which could be nothing but might be something and needs checking out.

The skin problems are quickly attributed to fleas and a secondary infection. While fleas might sound like an easy fix, we’ve been working on them ever since Lady arrived almost a year ago and I don’t know what strain these blighters are but they’d definitely survive a nuclear blast!

Fleas definitely don’t spell happiness!

The vet tells me that Bilbo needs to be washed in Malaseb a couple of times a week. I hope Bilbo heard that because he hates baths and despite being a “good dog”, when he was last bathed, he chewed right through the lead and was pretty aggro jumping and clawing at me, which is very out of character.

Somehow he needs to understand that these baths are “for his own good”.

Perhaps, this is his way of asking to go to the dog salon. However, being a true-blue Australia sheepdog, the garden hose will do. After all, if the crazy mutt can stand outside in the rain, surely he can put up with the hose?!! Besides, while he might not like the hose, the hair dryer is right up there on his list of hates next to the vacuum cleaner and the postman.

There I was at the vet’s processing all these dog issues with a very heavy cold, two sick kids and a dog who wanted to go home. Oh yes, I wanted to be in bed too!

After half an hour’s torture, Bilbo was finally allowed out after two jabs and two needle biopsies into his lump. The vet was encouraging but after a look under the microscope, thought she needed to check for mast cells. These mean TROUBLE!

So, by the time we left the vet’s and I’d paid the bill, I was feeling worse than the dog!

Naturally, this is hardly a picture of happiness.

So, after dealing with all of this, I am looking at the Proust questionnaire, considering: “What is your idea of perfect happiness?”

Right now, I’m very tempted to say no leaks in the roof, no coughs and colds in the house and a ray of sunshine.

Perhaps, even a chocolate Tim Tam could enter the equation. Or, even something stronger…like the entire packet!

This is an exceptionally rare packet of Tim Tams. The tray isn’t empty!!

However, I know this question is seeking a much deeper, philosophical response. Something clawed out from the very depths of my soul and that isn’t an easy question to answer. As much as Charles Schulz wrote: “Happiness is a warm puppy”, happiness is much more complex.

A simplistic interpretation…or is it?

Or is it?

It was time to turn to the great poets and philosophers lining my shelves and do a Google search.

Before I could possibly identify what perfect happiness was for me, I needed to do some research.

The DNA of happiness is up next.

So much for a quick romp through the Proust Questionnaire. It looks like we’re in for quite a journey.
xx Rowena