bugger that

We had an interesting moment yesterday. Well, I thought it was. It interests me how subtly the girls are changing. Kate had a secondary music recital thing … we as parents were asked to bring something along for afternoon tea. Because I always was the woman in “I don’t know how she does it“, Alison Pearson’s book, not the movie, cos I loved the book and hated the movie, except I never pretended my shop bought cakes and cookies and things were homemade (I never had enough time and quite frankly didn’t give a damn). Anyway, so I thought I would make something for Kate to take (not sure whether to absolve my latent guilt or because I’m bored) … and I thought I would do those fab cheese puffs from Lynn’s mom that both my girls love. Kate was horrified. Why are we taking anything? We’ll be the only ones. And anyway why can’t you just buy a packet of biscuits? And if you (must) make something why does it have to be something South African with melted bovril (didn’t have marmite, Lynn) and butter drizzled over fabulously crisp cheese scones with a soft melted cheesy centre.  I mean, nobody here knows bovril. It will be weird. Ergo I will be weird. I will be noticed. I will stand out and god forbid that happens. So, I settled on shop bought donuts, which I did arrange on a lovely muted 70’s green serviette and serving platter. Thank god for the other mum who brought the dainty tray of cupcakes or else I would have been the only one and then could you imagine how mortified my daughter would have been. What is with that? Is it a secondary we’re so cool thing, or is it a “don’t stand out” australian thing or is it a combination?? And why does nobody bring anything in? Is it just a we couldn’t be bothered who really cares kind of thing? Well, stuff it, we will still bring in our offerings, no matter how depleted. Because that’s us. And damn my girls need to be proud to stand up. Even if they are the only ones. And anyway, my donuts were eaten within seconds.

one hundred and twenty two

There is something beautiful about your child’s singing. I am so grateful for whatever is right in Jem’s life that had her singing in her room with gay abandon this morning as she was tidying and opening her blinds. I am so grateful I was there to hear it. And for the fact that she can keep a tune. So grateful in fact that I’m happy to admit it doesn’t come from me.

pause

I read a fabulous blog today that brought so much stuff flooding back, stuff in my need to plough ahead in my life I avoid thinking about. Not deny ever happened but simply avoid. I’m sure by now I’ve mentioned often my recently acknowledged life strategy to you, that of avoidance?? The blog, her current journey with cancer and emotions associated are so familiar to me. So real. Yet so far away. But today they were right here. I now acknowledge how much time I’ve lost. Or gained. I lived, I was there, I was so very there, but also somewhere else. There was so much I hadn’t signed up for or hadn’t realised I’d signed up for. So much that I lost and gained, that I had to redefine myself in inordinate ways. Redefine probably isn’t the right word, but rediscover. Actually probably not rediscover either, but discover. Discover me. But before I could even take a breath from my last treatment, we relocated to another country. To no-one and nothing. I had to start again without even knowing who I was anymore. I’m starting to understand why I adopted avoidance as a strategy. It was just less painful. It’s four years now to the day (we arrived in Australia on 16 May 2008) and I’m still faltering. Still discovering. But I’ve decided, I’m no longer avoiding. But I’m also not ploughing ahead. I’m just on pause. And actually, that’s ok.

one hundred and twenty one

 

It is beautiful how the early morning sun settles on my chair at the moment. I love my chair. I love it because it reminds me of years of gentle shared moments in Sonnie’s chair on the game farm, the moments I wanted to capture, I love it because Lynn made it for me, I love it because it was one of the last gifts from home, I love it because it envelops me and makes me feel safe. Yes, even little. Today I am grateful for my chair and how it makes me feel.

one hundred and twenty

 

I am grateful for a fun afternoon with Jem, baking fudge, cinnamon muffins and cheese scones. So much more fun than homework. Or anything else I should really rather have been doing.

fucking nice

I agree it’s not ideal to say fuck on the tennis court, even if it is directed at yourself. But  especially not when the tennis court is at school. I know there is no need to swear and I could have said fooey as was suggested, but I didn’t. I do know it is a legacy left from a lifetime in advertising where swearing was everyday. And no, not to insult, or hurt but simply to explain, share, show strong emotion. Among adults. That is fucking awesome means so much more than that is awesome, or that is so awesome or that is very awesome. Or even that is bloody awesome. Everyone understands. I agree that some times it is just not ideal. But please whatever you do, don’t judge me by how I speak, but rather by who I am and how I behave. I am not frightened of words, but I am frightened of people who hide behind ‘nice’ words and judgements. I know awful people who never swear. I know fabulous compassionate kind people who swear. It is never meant to disrespect anyone, because for me it is just an adjective, a very descriptive word. But just a word. And yes, a habit. But, I could think of worse habits to have.

one hundred and nineteen

 

I am very very grateful for Kate and Jem. To be the mother of two such mischievous, interesting, beautiful, challenging, kind, argumentative, inquiring daughters is an honour. I am filled with gratitude for the blessing of them. And for the blessing of my own mother. I am so very grateful for you mom, today and forever. You inspire me to be better. I am grateful that you know how much I appreciate you. And love you.

one hundred and eighteen

 

I am so very grateful to have a daughter who loves vintage clothing and who is ok with sharing. Even if there is an air of ‘mmmm, I’m not so sure about my 46 year old mom wearing the same top as me’ about the sharing. Then again, you should have seen the smirk at my ‘selfie’. Oh, stuff it. I am also so very very grateful for a girl’s night out.

one hundred and seventeen

 

I am grateful for today. For the beauty of today. But especially for the beauty of the quiet end to the day. The quiet end to the week. Kate and I and the beach. Gentle murmurs, cold sand and quiet smiles.

one hundred and sixteen

I am grateful for a quick coffee that lasts a morning. For time spent with an honest, authentic, inspiring but most importantly what you see is what you get friend. And consistently so. It is very reassuring to share truth with someone who respects honesty and sharing as much as I do.  And who uses the word ‘shame’ as much as I do too.