Houston we have a Problem ...

Tuesday afternoon the boys preschool had a farewell party for two of the teachers.  Just after we got there Hamish saw Jacks lunchbox and took out his vegemite cracker

Jack: Muuuum, Hamish is eating my cracker

Me (feeling less patient than he probably deserved): babe there is a whole table of food outside, why don't you go and grab something there

Jack: but mum its all sweet food and you told me I shouldn't eat to much sweet food cause it makes me cranky.  I wanted to eat my cracker first

Mixed feelings, great that he heard me and the million conversations we have had about healthy eating, crappy that he is starting to win arguments.

NB: I know that vegemite crackers aren't exactly healthy eating, but they certainly top chocolate crackles and shortbread .... and tonight he ate (without argument) cucumber, the one food that he really doesn't like, so one day at a time

Quietly Smiling

It snowed on the day you died,
The world quietly mourning too,
Heavily we manage a smile, that day
Amid the chaos and grief
Your much further away now
Smiles come often and easy
Though under, I feel the emptiness you left
Within that space and as time passes
There is new strength, and warmth
Life hold more wonders and beauty than ever
Although I miss you always
I know these days, I can always smile

Nicholas Was ...

I have mentioned before my love of the writer Neil Gaiman and recently I have started reading his collection of short stories 'Smoke and Mirrors'.  

As always I'm loving the way he writes and even the stories that I find challenging are different, enjoyable and clever.  I really wanted to share one of my favourites.

'Nicholas Was...'

"older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter. He wanted to die. "

...... to save my self from any copywriting issues, please clink on the above link and read the rest .... if you like it you should definitely read the book, its awesome xx

(Thanks Treen mwah)

More Yoni Art

A while back I sent a link to some of the wonderful women around me of yoni prints.  Basically women painted their vulva's and then sat on pieces of paper and their yoni left a print.  A few of my friends didn't exactly want to be involved if we ever have a yoni printing session but everyone thought they were beautiful and that it was an interesting albeit a bit of an out there idea.

I saw this link on a site I visit, apparently a women was doing a documentary about the amount of young women who want to have genital plastic surgery.  One of the ways she was trying to help them feel better and see the normality of their yoni's was by taking them to an artist who would make a cast of it. (if you keep scrolling you will see the wall of vagina's that he created ..OK its a small wall)

Its an interesting idea.  In this culture we so often close the door when we are naked, early on in our children's development, and so their ideas about the nitty gritty of the human body either comes from anatomy books or from pornography neither of which really show the human form in a realistic way, hair, moles, saggy bits and all.

Her other idea, is even more challenging.  She thought that if you have a yoni workshop it would be a way of letting women see themselves and others as normal.  I think the basic premise is that you and a group of other women get in a room with hand mirrors and ..... well you get the idea, actually I'm sure I have seen something like that in a movie and if I remember correctly one of the participants was very confronted by the idea. (anyone else remember it?)

So, feeling inspired ...... I am, but then I've had a glass of wine or two :)

The Moleskin

It sits on my shelf with its soft black leather cover, filled with clotted cream pages, all with rounded corners.  There is nothing sharp about it, its purpose is to lull you into it, to welcome you warmly to its pages and urge you forward.

It has graced a thousand artists satchels, lay crumpled and wine stained in a thousand musicians back pockets, and held a million ideas or stories, songs or sketches.

Mostly they stay inside as its owner gratefully empties their ideas into it just glad to have somewhere safe to unload their busy minds, but sometimes, all too rarely it shares a part of itself with the world.

People have fallen in love to its music, or been angered by its words, they have been moved by its pictures and have had to alter their perceptions with it's equations.  Who knows one day it could open its pages and share something that will change the world.

Inside its soft leather cover, filled with perfectly unmarked clotted cream pages, all with rounded corners, there lies infinite possibilities.

My Uncle Max

My Uncle Max died today.  I didn't know him well, he is part of my English family but he was certainly one of the funniest warmest and most colourful people in my life, and it is with a lot of sadness that realise we will not meet again.  When I think of him I hear his laugh, and the way he opened his home to Dad and during our visit, I remember his generosity and the lines on his face.

So this isn't really a blog post, but more of a show of love for him and my family, the world will be worse off without you in it Max.

Goodnight xx

Neighbour Hood Watch

I have written a few posts about how I love where we live.  A bit part of that has to do with the street we live in, we all know each other and mostly we live harmoniously, but then occasionally living in close proximity brings out some issues, following are mine;

The neighbour that hasn't talked to me since she found Hamish's footprints on the roof of her car a few months ago

The street handyman who was grabbing the fence palings off the kerb from a neighbours old fence, when I told him that I had asked the owners if I could grab 20 or so and he said no he needed them and when I stated again that I already spoken to them and they said I could, he said 'tough luck'

The neighbours who asked our friend to move their car because he was parking out the front of her house and her husband was going to be home soon and wanted that spot.  (OK now i get a bit shirty when someone parks in front of our house, in 'my spot' but its totally cheeky to ask someone to move their car)

The people who let their dogs run up and down our fence line while our dogs go nuts on the other side

Ha, the cosmos has just spoken, in the middle of writing the last sentence a news update about the fires currently blazing in Victoria came on .... I guess I should just be happy that at least we still have a neighbourhood.  Rant finished :)

Eulogy

I have been thinking about mum a lot so far this year.  It might be because I'm the same age mum was when she had me, or that in May this year it will be 10 years since she died, or that it would be her 65th birthday this friday, or maybe just time in the cycle of life for her to be more prominent in my thoughts.

Today for the first time in years I reread the eulogy that I gave at mums funeral, other than a few parts (which now feel young, but I guess I was) it still sums up how I feel about mum and who she was in my life.  So I am going to post it to the blog, I guess its a weird thing to post, but it feels like time to put out to the cosmos how loved she was.  

It is unedited, except for spelling;

Firstly I would like to thank everybody for coming, not just to pay there respects to mum, but also to show our family how much love there is out there for mum, I feel so much pride to see how many hearts mum must have touched.

I really felt I needed it get up here today, again not so much for mum but for me, so that I could stand up here in front of all the people that loved her, and tell them how grateful I am that I was blessed with such a special person for my mum.

When I was younger I used to keep a diary, mum would constantly joke that she was going to get me a stamp made saying “my mum is wonderful” and I was to stamp it at the top of each page, at the time I told her to get a life and stop being such a dork, like most rebellious 14 year olds, but when I was 16 mum had a close call in hospital and we didn’t think that she would be coming home to us, it was then that I realised that there are no second chances to tell people how you feel and I had a lot to tell mum including how wonderful I thought she was.  That, was until recently the worst time of my life, at the same time thought it made our relationship richer and closer, and I was able to say all the things that so many people often leave unsaid, I thanked her for being the best mum anyone could ever have.

A good friend of mine said recently that he never knew an adult to be so generous with three things first was her house, second her fridge, and third was her conversation.  I think that’s what a lot of the people that came to our house over the years thought, although the fridge might have been more relevant to all the males.

When I was growing up, mums place was always known as an open house, and to the select few people that knew about the secret entrance they know that’s literally what it was.  She always made everyone feel welcome and it was nothing for mum to get up at midnight and make the hoards of 6-foot males stomping through her house, a toasted sandwich.  She loved the fact that I always felt free to bring people home and that we would play music and laugh and make the house would come alive, even if it did interrupt her sleep quite frequently.

As an only child people ask me if I was spoilt and I used to say in only love, recently though I have realised that I was spoilt in much more than that, she spoilt me in respect, in laughter, in freedom and in letting me learn to be an individual, in loving my friends and making them feel welcome, in picking me up from the pub at 4.00am, in letting me make the house our home not her just hers, in just giving a sigh when I brought home yet another stray, in letting boys sleep over much to the horror of other parents, in sticking up for me even when I was wrong, in staying away from me when I had PMT, in making me breakfast before school even though I used to hide it under the bed, in almost believing the dog was the one who pulled the clothes line down, in laughing with me when I got drunk at that Christmas party at 16, in hugs, in conversation, in rubbing talcum powder on my back on hot nights, in letting me sleep in her bed after watching too much Dr Who, in teaching me to have my own opinions, in loving and respecting my dad and listing my stepmother as one of her dearest friends, in being open about her life,  and  treating me like an adult, all of those things helped make me into the person that I am today. 

In fact her liberal parenting made more than one of the parents surrounding her cringe but in the end no child has ever had more respect for a parent and no child has ever been able to share more with a parent than I have with mum.

Mum had a strong sense of family so much so that it extended out to the people closet to her she had so much love to give that her friends, my friends and her workmates were all part of her extended family and she loved us all.

She will always be with all of us in our hearts and in our memories standing beside us in the hard times and rejoicing with us in the good times I know this without a doubt, mostly because that was one of mums strongest beliefs but also because she could be a stubborn old cow when she wanted to be, and nothing not even death would get in the way of her watching out for all of us.

I will miss mum for the rest of my life, she was the best friend I could ever have but I will try to spend my time celebrating her life not mourning her death because I know that is exactly what she would have wanted.

Drawing a Blank

I can't believe it for the first time in just over a year (the blog anniversary was the 18th of January) I'm feeling completely unable to think of anything to blog about.  Ive actually sat in front of the PC a few times in the last week and come up blank, even though many times through the day I have had some ideas. 

I blame the heat/Andrew being away and a general slowness of life without actually being peaceful in my mind.

I will get back to it tomorrow with the boys in preschool and a bit of space in my brain ...... and of course a cool change on my skin ...... I hope

Pixies and Fairies

Jack has a special little friend, her name is Arieal.  It was her birthday party on the weekend, I saw them sitting together, and took the opportunity to grab a few photos of the birthday fairy and her pixie friend.

We have known Arieal since she was born and early on it was obvious that she and Jack had a special little connection and place in their hearts for one another. Now they are still kids and as kids do they terrorise each other sometime, but i often wonder if they do it to each other because they know it is safe, they know that they accept each other even when they are mean.

Jack told me the other day that he was going to make a ring out of paper and give it to Arieal and then they could be married.  We make sure we don't do the whole "Is she your girlfriend" thing people seem so fond of saying and I have never asked him about marriage but he had just connected the feelings as we watched a movie about a princes marrying a prince.

Its so lovely to watch Jack feel really safe with a friend, and as we watch them grow into amazing kids its fantastic to know that they have each other, and I'm pretty sure they will be friends for a long time to come.