Yesterday

How can it be that one morning you get up, hear the birds chattering as you look at the view of your patio,with the sunlight demonstrating it's wonderful ability of light play over plants & furniture, through to the garden beyond & remark "how blessed are we to have this beauty to wake up to every day" with a smile playing across your face - then the following morning you wander out there, not even noticing the view, while wondering why the birds are even bothering to sing.

Yesterday we were looking forward to the job & going out & buying a new fridge...well, perhaps not looking forward to it so much, but enjoying the thought that we weren't going to have to put up with a fridge that freezes everything we put in it, at seemingly random intervals.....thereby providing the compost & worm bins with what I believe to be the most expensive compost fuel in Brisbane some weeks.
Yesterday I was anticipating unpacking the last carton of my gear to arrive from New Zealand - a whole 21 months later.

Yesterday I believed for the shadow that had shown up on my Mum's pancreas while she was having a kidney scan to be "just a shadow" or, with her health history, perhaps a blockage somewhere.

This morning I knew better.
This morning I didn't want to be awake once that time where my eyes slowly open & the obliviousness that sleep has afforded is still upon me, before I became fully aware of the day, had passed. I didn't care about cartons or their contents & couldn't have cared less if the new fridge was delivered today - or not at all.
By this morning I knew that the shadow, just a bit they caught in a scan for something completely different, is inoperable cancer of the pancreas that has progressed into Mum's spleen as well. I also know that chemo is not an option as she is so underweight & weak that they have admitted her into the Hospice to try & get some weight on her while figuring out the best medications to keep her out of pain, so she can go home....& what? I'm believing for a miracle.

To think that she went to the Doctor a week ago with back ache which, as it turns out is unrelated, & now this. As if the last 7 years, & in particular the last 3 since the earthquakes, haven't been enough for her already. I always knew that she was a strong woman - but bloody hell, enough already. She's had her share of poor health & more than enough to cover a few other people too.

Speaking to her today I realised that, although she accepts this is terminal, she ain't going down without a fight baby. She was talking of being able to drive again - once her back is better. Heaven help Christchurch is all I can say about that.

I think I can safely say my Mum, myself & my family liked yesterday a whole lot better than today.

Tropical Water Lily - "Tina"

Focus on Life - Week 11 "The Possibilities are Endless"

This week the prompt for the "Focus on Life" photo challenge, the brain child of Sally Russick of Studio Sublime is "The Possibilities are endless".
Each week Sally sends us a photo prompt to encourage us to look at, & document, our lives in an unique way as we travel through 2013. As this weeks phrase has different meanings it can be interpreted in a number of different ways.

When I look at a length of fabric, a ball of yarn, bundles of glass, a beautifully grained piece of timber, a blank page or canvas - I see endless possibilities. When I'm faced with a bland, bare room or a patch of undeveloped or unkempt land my brain & imagination go into overdrive as I visualise the potential of what they could become.

However, when I see a storm damaged tree being felled, I tend to see just that! Oh yeah, my mind might wander to the possibility of some nice mulch for the garden if the tree crew have a grinder/shredder they use. But as a rule it's just about the tree coming down.....& a stump being left.

And so it was earlier this week when the crew arrived to remove a wattle that had become unstable in recent storms.

I watched as they worked on it - whittling away bit by bit.

I got excited at the potential of some garden mulch...
& even helped drag over some of the branches.

I burst into laughter as I looked out from the patio & saw what they were doing with the stump!

Apparantly I'd been nice, the coffee & the cake at smoko time passed muster,  & the guys said I deserved a throne complete with foot rest. Even tree stumps have endless possibilities.

That will teach me for teasing them about the height of stumps here in Brisbane. I've noticed there seems to be a bit of a thing about leaving taller than normal stumps in. For some reason a lot of tree's only get taken back to fence height & it looks exceptionally odd!

 

Please pop on over to The Studio Sublime & catch what everyone else is up to.

Focus on Life - Week 10 "All Wrapped Up"

This week the prompt for the "Focus on Life" photo challenge, the brain child of Sally Russick of Studio Sublime is "All Wrapped Up".
Each week Sally sends us a photo prompt to encourage us to look at, & document, our lives in an unique way as we travel through 2013. As this weeks phrase has different meanings it can be interpreted in a number of different ways.

I managed to both start & wrap up a small DIY makeover project this week ...& I was pretty thrilled with that, but what I immediately thought of when I read Sallys prompt was a project I started on not long after moving to Australia.

At the time I needed something to keep my hands busy in the evenings, while also wanting whatever project I chose to be easy to pick up & put down, not requiring constant reference to a pattern & being completely transportable. I've always loved the colour shift yarns that are available - yet time & time again, upon attempting to knit them up into a garment of some sort I would discover that I far preferred the way they looked in the ball.

It seemed that crocheted squares would fit the bill &, at the end,  would result in a wonderful warm blanket or throw to cuddle up in outside on the patio next winter..... not to mention give me the perfect excuse to delve into some of those luscious colour shift yarns on the market.

Yummy yarns and forgotten skills.

So I revived my crocheting skills that have lain dormant for many years. Many, many years in fact....it wasn't so much revive as exhume!!
Fortunately the pattern I chose was exceptionally easy to remember so I've just been able to relax with hook in hand & watch as the colours bloom.

Piles of colour - these squares are all wrapped up!

Of course, after I've watched the centre colour bloom, it's a bit hard to get enthused about finishing off the black borders on each square. I tend to lose interest when it comes to repeating the same process many times over. Sewing the ends in should be interesting......
Of course it helps my motivation that it's the black that makes them square ;)

Gratuitous group shot - with lashings of small DIY makeover for good measure.

So that's me;  80 fully finished squares, 20 pretty rounds waiting for their black borders, 3 1/2 balls left to crochet up & then comes a whole lot of end sewing in & sewing together before I can finally crochet the black border around the whole darn thing & say "Well that's that all wrapped up" -  then proceeding to wrap myself up in it!

Please pop on over to The Studio Sublime & catch what everyone else is up to.

Focus on Life - Week 9 "Knock, Knock"

This is my first post in the "Focus on Life" photo challenge, the brain child of Sally Russick of Studio Sublime. Each week Sally sends us a photo prompt to encourage us to look at, & document, our lives in an unique way as we travel through 2013.

Of course I was late to the party - but all that matters is that I am here now. I think it is quite apt that I'm in time for this one.

Let’s open some doors to see what awaits us on the other side.

Is it a door that holds opportunity?

Is it a door that holds a story?

Is it a door you have been hesitating to open?

Is a gate to a new life?

A door to a new adventure?

Is it a door that holds a memory?

Is it the perfect door for a simple picture?

You have arrived at the door for a reason, open it up and step in! 

 The second I read the brief I knew what my photograph would be of. It had to be the door that I crossed the ditch to walk through 7 months ago - which also just happens to answer "yes" to every question posed above.

This time last year when I was sitting in Christchurch, New Zealand trying to find suitable rental accommodation online for a small family & assorted pets across the Tasman Sea (commonly referred to as the ditch or the pond by Australians & Kiwis alike) in Brisbane, Australia - what the front door looked like wasn't high on my list of priorities.

In fact when I finally managed to find a place that seemed it could work for us the first thing I noticed was what a boring shaped house it was - a simple brick rectangle plonked towards the front of a large block of land.The second thing I noticed was the fabulous outdoor patio that ran the entire length of the house & the somewhat dated tiles used under the covered part of said patio, & at the front entrance, had a sort of quaint character to them.

It's surprising that I never really picked up on this front door in any of the photos I perused online, given my long standing fascination with doors. I think the very first board I started on Pinterest was a "Door" board!

The appeal of this door struck me when I arrived in a new country, still weary from the stress of an International move...& facing wall to wall cartons & packed furniture. It's 3 panels of carved decoration make it seem a slightly elaborate door for such a plain house....that made me smile, I know there must be a story there somewhere.

For the first few weeks this 1970's solid timber beast, with it's carvings & panels, was the barrier against the winter rain & chill. As the weather warmed up this door stayed open to welcome in the warmth & fresh air, the sounds of nature & the occasional critter.

Before coming here I knew that there would be a new life - that much was a given. As for this door - there has been many a time I have said to my partner that I'd love to pop it off of it's hinges & turn it into a bed head....& yeah, I so would!

(if I didn't have a landlord to answer to...)

But, it's potential as a bed head aside, this door was not only one I was hesitating to open but also one that represents a new life, new adventures, new opportunities & right now I'm pretty sure it's absorbing some of our stories to keep safe for the future.

That is assuming it doesn't end up as a head board ;)

Head on over to The Studio Sublime & catch what everyone else is up to.

Easily Distracted

This week has been wet. It's also been overcast - but mostly it's been wet.

Wet here apparently involves huge drops of moisture alternating between pelting down manically, flooding guttering so that it overflows drenching humans, pets & plants within minutes, & stopping suddenly leaving a person wondering where the heck it has gone. The saving grace is that it is also warm - with temperatures still being 24° - 29°C ( 75° - 84°F those of you stateside).

Given that the rainy/storm season has finally arrived I had made plans for the days when I couldn't be working outside this week. They involved a little painting &, more importantly, unpacking the rest of my glass now that I finally have more storage sorted. Or so I thought.....

Right up until the time that I stopped to make my first cup of coffee & looked out the kitchen window...

This little guy was sitting on the patio railing. Now don't get me wrong there is nothing at all unusual about Rainbow Lorikeets in the garden - apart from the fact that they don't usually venture up to dog & cat territory. Just as well the dog is a rain wimp & was curled up in a pathetic wee ball on his beanbag - with the cats doing similar in the bedrooms.

This particular Lori wasn't at all afraid of the human that, feeling sorry for them that the bird feeder had just received an impromptu clean out & was now a water bowl, ventured out with a freshly peeled lychee & two slices of mango. He just sat, not even a foot away along the rail, & watched me - then when I backed off  he invited his friend up.

What happened next was as funny as a play! Straight off he knocked the first piece of mango off...
It really doesn't need a dialogue but I couldn't resist.

"Oh darn, Ethel - that's one down."

"You go for the next thing, Archie - I'll just keep an eye on 'er over there!"

"Easy there Archie - don't scoff too much, you never know what it could be."

"Hmm, Ethel - I'm not so sure about that one...unusual texture."
"Careful Archie - you nearly knocked me off!"

"You sure it's not some sort of egg?"

"Oopsy, seems it just joined that other thing."

"This isn't so bad - you hold that end & make sure it doesn't fall."

"Grr - I said hold it Archie!"

By the next downpour the mango & lychee are forgotten as my latest distractions take refuge in the tree right next to the deck & groom each other in an attempt to dry off.

 

 

These birds are so entertaining to watch - gregarious & unafraid, for the most part, of humans. They did go down onto the patio & eat the fallen mango between showers - but left the lychee for the ants. 

Just as well really - it could become time consuming peeling lychees for the Loris ;)

The Grass Isn’t Always Greener On The Other Side Of The Fence….

Or in this case, the ditch. …..in fact sometimes the grass can be a crispy brown – so crispy that it’s like walking on shredded brown paper. Hot, shredded brown paper.

The grass isn’t always greenest where you water it either – especially if there are water restrictions on & you can’t water it at all.

No, this isn’t an analogy about life…it’s a fact. Australian grass is completely different to New Zealand grass. I suspect the fact that it gets so hot here you can smell it heating up & marinating for a bit, before cooking itself, under the sun’s intense rays has something to do with it….along with the type of grass planted.

It’s also high time I posted about my arrival in Australia – something I started to do months ago, but somehow I got side tracked.

Oh yeah, side tracked by a country that is sensory overload on every which level. I’ve been visually distracted by birds so behaviourally bold & colourful that they refuse to be ignored, by dragonflies that resemble helicopters & butterflies & moths the size of small aircraft. 

My ears are constantly assaulted by sound - birds from dawn until dusk with cicadas & crickets adding to the wonderful cacophony on warm days (which is pretty much every day), frogs, possums & owls pitching in once it gets dark.

Perhaps I should save chatting about how easily distracted I am by the readily available tropical & sub-tropical plants that thrive in this climate for another time…. & about how excited I was to find a stand of Blue Ginger among the bush & weeds down the back or how I was hooked when the neighbour threw the first Bromeliad over the fence…..

And all of the above distraction is before I even leave home!!

 A few quick snaps from today in the garden ....
see what I mean about distractions!

This is city full of huge glitzy malls accessed by large busy highways bulging at the seams with loads of BIG cars (& even bigger trucks) often driven by people wearing maxi dresses…the cars that is – not the trucks! Just thought I’d throw that in there while using nouns relevant to size.

On one hand it’s a fast paced city, one that wakes early & ‘appears’ to sleep early too. On the other hand, once one discovers where to look it’s also a city full of beautiful parks, outstanding gardens, speciality markets, farmers markets & a seemingly endless round of entertainment &  fun community events ….often involving fireworks.

It’s a wonderful cultural mix. Locally there are many beautiful Sudanese women – tall & stately with a proud bearing & long slender legs that never seem to end. It’s always a highlight when I see the older women gathered outside a shop in their traditional colourful costume & head wraps.

Vibrant & colourful is the name of another game here too – tattoos. Large tattoos. Large, vibrantly coloured tattoos. Lots of full sleeve & leg tattoos…on woman. I'm pretty sure that I’ve seen more since I’ve arrived here than I have seen in my entire life before.

I’ve been here 7 months & one day. In that time I’ve been initiated into the Australian lifestyle by way of bush fires close by & a couple of good tropical storms – one the tail end of a cyclone. I’ve seen some rather substantial spiders, evicted some messy house geckos (well actually I might have set the cat onto one or two of them), stumbled across my first bearded dragon in the garden, have  killed a *few* cane toads & now drive willingly on that highway that I was never going to drive on – ‘never’ being right up to the point that I discovered a plant nursery that I needed to visit.

I've made new friends, met lampworking friends previously known only online, discovered that I have great neighbours & that tropical storms & flooding can bring about good things - such as enjoying the company of fabulous house guests & forging lasting friendships.

I love it here - even though I have to admit that the settling in hasn’t always been easy. The first 5 months were often fraught with obstacles in getting some of the more important things done such as arranging schooling, medical care, bank accounts, internet & a landline. You know, just the little things. Red tape, more red tape & all that. Now that I finally have myself a Doctor (one quite knowledgeable about thyroid issues – finally, thank goodness) & a bank account. I’m not sure which I’m most thrilled about ;)

Post Script: This post was intended for yesterday – I fell asleep in my chair last night before checking the draft & posting it. Remember those early starts I mentioned?....

It seems appropriate that I post it today though – as it helps me to focus on the positive rather than dwell too heavily on the significance of this date. I feel as if it can’t possibly be two years since that horrific day when  life, as my home town of Christchurch knew it, changed forever… for everyone. But there you have it.

Doubly Blessed

Ever since I can remember I have wanted my own piece of NZ Jade - or Greenstone/Pounamu as it is called here. I recall as a child looking at a wonderful piece my grandmother had in her jewelry collection & later wondering what happened to that when she passed away.

Recently I expressed my desire to have something to take with me to Australia & my two wonderful sons bought me this gorgeous piece of carved Greenstone/Pounamu - a Fish Hook (Hei-Matau) with a Fern frond (Koru) worked into it. 

All I knew was that I wanted a Hei-Matau & it wasn't until after this piece chose me that I realised there was a Koru worked into it as well.

When I was told of the traditional Maori meaning of the two symbols worked into this piece I understood why this piece had caught my eye &, more importantly, that of my son.

Hei-Matau, the fish hook, represents strength & prosperity and is said to represent good luck and safety when travelling over water.

The Koru, or fern frond, represents peace and tranquillity along with a strong sense of regrowth or new beginnings. 

There is a long history surrounding Pounamu & requirements that must be met before it can be sold. According to ancient lore it should be gifted....with love.

For a lovely excerpt from a Barry Brailsfords Book "The Story of Pounamu The Sacred Stone of Aotearoa"  scroll down the page in the link.

Happy Birthday & Welcome Home

My baby boy turns 27 as this publishes (all going well). At 6.03 am on ANZAC Day, 1985 he made his debut into this world.
This ANZAC Day he arrives back home from a 7 1/2 month deployment in Afghanistan. I can't wait to see him!!

Happy Birthday Baby Boy!!

I love you to pieces!

You'd Admit to That...to a Woman?

Sometimes it is really just too darn difficult to take some men seriously. Honestly - it is!

This isn't me being sexist, or manist or whatever other 'ist' you can think of. This is me telling a true story of two men and a washing machine.... or is that four men?

It all began a week or so back when I put my washing machine up for auction (or Buy Now) on our local auction website. Someone hit the Buy Now button the day after I listed it & duly rang me a day later to arrange pick up. I gave him my address & asked what day he wanted to come - which typically was the day everyone else seemed to want to do their pick-ups of some of the larger items I've been selling.....same time too. What is it about 11.00am anyway??

The next day 11.00am rolled around & the lady who had bought my two huge yuccas had been & gone, the people that wanted to pick up the upright freezer arrived & paid,  the guy that had bought my scroll saw arrived & paid...& so on. I even sold another couple of things with out having to list them - so far so good.

Mr washing machine man still hadn't turned up at lunch time..... just before 1.00pm the phone rang with him asking for the street name again. Why,  because they were out the other side of town in the wrong street. Apparently NavMan said there was no such street as mine..but I guess that depends on how you spell it.

Now, how hard is it to spell Palm? Obviously quite difficult because I had to spell it out for him.... 4 times. After he repeated it to me correctly it was only a matter of a few minutes before they were pulling into my driveway, handing over the cash & loading up the washing machine into the back of their van. So far so good!

Two days later I get a phone call saying the washing machine wasn't working. UGH! I asked him what it wasn't doing - was it not filling, washing but not spinning, not draining or what?... ( symptoms guys - I need symptoms!!)

The response: It's not working & we didn't drop it or anything.(how reassuring)

Me: Is it filling?

Mr Wmm: It's starts to, but then it stops & does nothing.

Me: OK, have you tried changing the inlet hoses over (thinking he could have them the wrong way around)

Mr Wmm: What good is that going to do? I just want to do some washing!

By this stage I was somewhat exasperated & figured if he had to ask then it was no good trying to explain that it would "make the darn thing work". 

I asked for his address & offered to go over & see what it was doing. I was informed that would be good - but it would have to be the next day as he was busy....any time after 1.00pm would suit. No thank you, no nothing. Hmmmmm!!

As it turned out at 1.00pm the next day I was waiting for someone to arrive to pick up some plants - they were late. The phone rang & Mr Wmm quite bluntly stated that he was waiting to go out & I'd said I'd be there at 1.00pm. Say what??? Well shoot, I corrected him on that one!

I duly trotted over to look at the delinquent washing machine. Turned it on & voilà' no sound of water going into it at all. I turned it off, turned off the taps at the wall, pulled it out & swapped over the inlet hoses - while he stood there & once again said "what difference will that make? water's water". I just bit my tongue,  hid my smile & said "We'll see", as I pushed the machine back in, turned it one & put it through it's paces.

It filled & ran perfectly - it isn't called a "SmartDrive" for nothing  .

There was still no "Thank you" forthcoming. However what he said next made up for it because it's made me smile every time I think about it for the past  few days...

"I don't know how you did that, four of us guys stood here trying to figure out how changing the hoses would make a difference......"

You'd admit to that?? To a woman who has just fixed your washing machine by doing what she suggested you try in the first place??

Well there's your problem - Do, or Do Not. There is no try . 

Gratuitous car shot - because this is far nicer than a photo of a washing machine.

And I need it!

Moving to Morocco

 Life, such as it is, seems to be happening around me. While I've been sorting, minimising & packing I've had a lot of outside influences to factor into my choices of what to take with me, what things need me to find another place to store them here & what to let go of completely.

It's almost 6 weeks since I first started on this post at the beginning of March & I still find the title apt for the way I have come to think of things. 

It would be far easier if I were moving to Morocco - or anywhere in the world where the culture was significantly different to here. For my purposes I'm saying Morocco because I have wanted to go there ever since I can remember....along with pretty much everywhere else in North Africa.

As I have sifted through 'stuff', with vague recollections wanting to be an archaeologist at some point in my childhood, I've realised the decision making on pretty much every level would be a lot easier if I were moving somewhere that wasn't quite so 'westernised'. It's difficult not to make comparisons between New Zealand & Australia as our cultures & lifestyles are very similar. 

We have homes & we fill them with stuff. A lot of that stuff is electronics & appliances. So while I'm making decisions I can rationalise taking "such & such" as I have a whole container to fill & if I leave it I will just have to replace it on the other side of the ditch which will end up costing me more than the space that it takes in the container.

Now if I were going to Morocco to live,  a whole heap of that very same stuff would be superfluous.Even if it wasn't & could be used there, I know in my heart that I wouldn't want to take it as I'd rather immerse myself in their culture & do things in the way of their culture.

Perhaps I'd ship over my torches & a bit of glass, some metalworking tools & such - but that would be about it.

Me, a backpack, a few items of clothing (because it'd be wrong to travel naked & could cause a whole heap of hold ups - not to mention mass exodus at airports & traumatized passengers), a laptop & my camera.

 Dammit - I wish I was going to Morocco!

"How does one become a butterfly?"...

she asked. "You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar."~Anonymous

Imagine spending your days flying around, alighting on flowers & drifting on gentle air currents (yes - I am studiously ignoring any negatives here!!). Butterflies transfix me, sighting one will cause me to be still, almost holding my breath without realising I am doing so, & just watch. And I could watch for hours, gentle, silent, beautiful creatures that could teach us humans a lesson or two .....& have if we stop to think about it.

If nothing ever changed there'd be no butterflies. ~Author Unknown

"The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.  ~Rabindranath Tagore

When I grow up - I want to be a butterfly. Besides being able to fly, be free & for the most part beautiful,  they get to hang around a whole heap of orange from what I observed today ;) Rarely do we get to see admirals & monarchs at the same time so they must be attracted to this plant.

And with that Deb quietly toddles off to bed making a mental note to plant some Tithonia rotundifolia in her next garden.....

Keeper Of The Memories

I do not hoard!! I accumulate stuff! OK, so sometimes I find that stuff hard to get rid of...just in case I might want to use it again/ fit back into it/ need it/re-appropriate it for some other use. But I do not hoard.

It became obvious when I got my first quote to ship my 'stuff' across the ditch to Australia that quite a bit was going to have to go. I'd already decided that the beds, my big ass lounge suite, the freezer, washing machine & one lot of bookshelves weren't going with me. Some other large items were optional &, fortunately, quite a bit of what I definitely wanted to take can be flat packed.

I was given two options for shipping; the first involves shipping the, lot minus the items I'd stated weren't going, in shared containers. It turns out that I have 39 cubic meters of 'stuff'. Yikes!!

Option 2 was to have a 20 ' container to myself. Now a 20'ft container technically  holds 32 cubic meters.... if you were to fill it with water that's how much it would hold anyway. With wrapped furniture & boxes it's realistically something like 28-29 cubic meters.

Even I know that 39 cubic meters isn't going to reduce to 29 without some really serious minimising. Looks like some of those 'optionals' will be staying in Kiwiland...& then some.

But it's the small stuff that is holding me up. There are 8 boxes full of 'small stuff'.Things I rarely look at, but are there & I know they are there. It's easy for some to carelessly say get rid of what you don't need.

That sort of blasé comment will usually come from someone that hasn't created their family memories yet...or doesn't have a family ( or any interest in art or crafts - but that's a whole different story!! lol!)

Turns out I've saved everything from small beaded felt Christmas decorations I made 33 years ago when I was a young single Mother & too darn poor to buy anything, but determined to give my toddler some 'pretty' for his second Christmas - through to the all of the kids first artworks, birth cards, albums, inscribed books, a few special baby clothes & once much loved, but now outgrown, soft toys..... & on the list grows. We haven't even got to their early school books yet.....

Then there is Dad's 'stuff' - a beautiful hand tailored sailor top purchased at Ballantynes when he was little... probably around 1932, his wonderful old tobacco jar & scree's of other bits & pieces of his that Mum gave to me.

I'd already started sorting & getting rid of the more obvious months back, thinking that I best start sorting things out earlier rather than leaving it closer to the anticipated time of departure.A lot of Dad's things I've given to my boys, really just keeping the two things I mentioned above for myself. Dad was more like a father to those two & a huge influence in their lives. I know they'll look after those bits & pieces.

As to the rest it's really a matter of trust. I thought about giving the kids their stuff, but the time just isn't right.Things that were theirs when they were younger wont have so much meaning until they have children of their own. This I know from experience as I well recall regretting, much later, giving away all the things I deemed babyish or such as a teenager or even later as an adult.

I also recall the feigned disgust & the inner warm fuzzies whenever Mum would whip out one of my early notebooks filled with a 7 year olds first attempts at writing poems or fantastical stories, to show one of my kids.

It's those things that the kids have done that I'm finding hardest to even go through - let alone think of parting with, or entrusting to their creators. Not only do I smile at some of the things that were written, or marvel at the vivid imaginations of the very young,  I'm also transported back in time & memories are evoked of things that I had forgotten. I know when I show a special letter or card written by a 5 year old to their Mum to them as teens & adults that they have forgotten too.

No, I don't hoard stuff - 

I am keeper of the memories.

Last Chance & New Opportunities

I think summer finally came to Christchurch this weekend - we've had a spectacular couple of days. It's been far too nice to waste sitting & working inside for the most part, but that is what I've been doing.

What I wanted to be doing was something entirely different. This was the last weekend to take the chance to walk through the red-zone of the central city & view our Cathedral before it is demolished.Yes, the Anglican church has decided that the Cathedral that gives this city it's name isn't worth saving. I'm not sure what to think about that - aside from the fact that we may have to change our city's name to Christchurchless.

I really felt the need to say goodbye - but had no one to go with & it's not particularly the sort of thing I wanted to do alone. 

Over the last year I have questioned why I feel such strong ties to so many of the buildings in the city, why the CBD as a whole seems such a part of me when really it is, after all, just buildings....inanimate objects that can be replaced. 

I suspect that it has something to do with the fact that 51 years ago there was a 19 year old student working towards her art degree whose city this was too. Many of the same buildings were there in the early 1960's, the structure & the layout have changed not at all. Subconsciously I have always been aware that many of the paths walked by me, would have been walked by my birth mother before me. The city itself is a connection of sorts.

On the other hand I have absolutely no idea at all why I have always been drawn to the many Churches, aside from the fact that I have always liked the Gothic revival architecture so many of them offered & often quietly wished that I was confidant enough to attempt them in pen & ink.

With all that said there are Churches whose architecture I can to look forward too exploring in Brisbane. Here are a few I spotted in the CBD there in December.

This one took the prize for flamboyance - from the side it was more like a castle from a fairytale.

 Sometimes you really have to look to find them among all the tall buildings!

 At other times you find one in an unexpected open space (with a big glassy backdrop!)

This is the first church & in the background is the Soleil Tower, 243 meters high. It's the tallest building in Brisbane & the second tallest in Australia & was completed earlier this year.

This is a zoom in of the Brisbane CBD from the Mount Coot-Tha lookout, you can see the Soleil Tower on the left....just to put it all into perspective.

It has to be said that I'd far rather be viewing the tower from the top of a  mountain (albeit a small one), than viewing the mountain from the top of the tower....

The Back End of a Bus...

Ever heard the idiom "Looks like the back end of a bus"? It's a very British figurative saying & I have to admit I heard it more than once growing up ( thanks Mum & Nana!!), but not in reference to people - rather to things. These days we'd just use "fugly" in it's place ;)

Of course some bus ends can be quite interesting - especially when it's an Army bus & it's your son pictured on the back end of it! A somewhat dubious honour in light of the above - & boy am I going to have fun with it when someone gets back. Of course that's after I'm forgiven for showing it here.....

 

Last Day of Summer

As I sit here ruminating over the fact that it's the last hour of the last day of February - I also suddenly realise that it's officially the last day of Summer for us down here in the Southern Hemisphere.

I feel cheated!!! What the heck has happened to this last month. It certainly hasn't been very summery - in fact most of our Summer hasn't been very summery at all. I also realise that I'm now running about two weeks behind on my "moving plan". Yes, shocking I know, I actually had a plan.

It was quite simple really - nothing to radical or structured.

Plan A went something like this;

January:

• Get quotes for International move & discover what sort of cost we are up for.
• Decide what I can live without & what needs replacing anyway
• Find out cubic meterage from quotes & figure what to sell off/get rid of.

February:

• Assemble cartons & packing gear
• Start sorting through 33 years of photos, keepsakes & memorabilia  stuff'
• Clean items that have been stored ready for listing.
• Photograph & List what is being sold on local auction site
• Sort kitchen, pack crockery, cutlery & pans that are going with us, leaving the stuff I am giving away to use until we leave. Ditto with small appliances.
• Start on prepack of belongings that aren't needed in the interim

March:

• Torch - play with glass & fire
• Paint
• Beat up Metal
• Torch More
• Paint more - may as well take some those canvases over the ditch with something on them & use some of my paints up in the process.
• Beat Up metal more
• Torch even more

April

• Pack Studio
• Tidy Garden
• Clean House

It was also a little selfish in a way. I wanted to allow myself March to get some serious torching in before packing up my studio for goodness knows how long & to complete some other projects that have been floating around in my head for goodness knows how long.

There wasn't a "Plan B" &, as you will no doubt notice, "Plan A" didn't involve stuffing up of a rotator cuff, bursitis, the discovery of calcium deposits, surgical procedures or cortisone injections. Ten days completely out of action - & now I'm forced to behave because it still hurts to reach too far or lift heavy stuff (truth be told it hurts to lift even light stuff) among a whole heap of other things. But at least I can type again without almost crying at every movement....& lift up my camera :)

I'm not so sure I'm going to get any melting of glass in, I definitely wont be pounding metal & I'm mightily bummed about both of those things. Maybe I'll be able to paint a little - my big easel is fully adjustable in all respects & angles.

Meanwhile a certain someone seems to feel that he is is more than ready to go at any time....

Nestled among the packed cartons in the garage indeed! Why isn't he packing, or lifting heavy schit.....

Lego - It's Dangerous!!

Seriously it is, & I'm not just talking about the one block that never made it back into the box after the kids finished playing with it that you happen to stand on while making a mad dash to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Oh yeah - I remember those nasty wake up calls as the nice sharp angular edge of a tiny piece of lego meets with the tender sole of your bare foot, causing you to hop & mutter bad, bad words under your breath....or out loud, as you stumbled around in the dark trying to find the offending block so as not to step on it again.

Aside from that though, I'll bet you thought lego was cute little coloured blocks that, given a little imagination & a whole lot of time, incredible things could be made out of.... even if it never got to look like the image on the box front ( except for that one time that you spent hours helping to put it all together the first time when fresh & new)  in it's life time again.

Lego is all of that & more. You see what happens after the kids grow & stop playing with it is that it only comes out for visitors with children. The rest of the time it sits stored in it's under the bed size plastic slider bin on top off the vertical freezer in the garage plotting rebellion. Not only does it muddle up all the previously carefully sorted colours but I'm also quite certain that it  multiplies while thus shut away.

In fact it multiplies to such a point that when you decide that you must get this stuff sorted, condensed & packed in something smaller (perhaps because you are moving internationally or such) - you manage to tweak something in your shoulder while lifting it down. No big deal at the time, just a small popping sensation. But later that day the pain starts. 

The next day the pill hating you finds yourself at the pharmacy seeking the strongest pain relief they can sell you....& it's about then that you realise the Lego is not only dangerous, but quite vindictive as well.That 34 years worth of the stuff has indeed increased in weight to such a point that you should not have been lifting it down.

And there you have why I have been very quiet until yesterday. After a week of not being able to move my arm any more than about an inch without inflicting one of the nastiest pains I have ever felt (let alone type, lift my camera, wash my hair or do numerous other things - such as function with any degree of normality) I finally knew that I had to visit the Doctor & fess up to injuring myself playing with lego.... 

He mumbled something about rotator cuff tear & I vaguely recall thinking I sounded like a broken helicopter.

This week has been spent in more pain, sleepless nights, a drug induced haze caused by messing around with some really heavy duty meds that didn't work, having xrays & ultrasounds of my shoulder.  The pain is a little better during the day now - but at night it really likes to party. Let me tell you that trying to sleep sitting bolt upright & having absolutely nothing touching my shoulder is no fun......none whatsoever. 

Tomorrow afternoon that should all be resolved to some degree as I'm having an Ultra Sound guided steroid injection (really looking forward to that) & a small procedure done. Well I hope it's small!! The Doctor has kind of freaked me a little today with his response "It's not for the faint hearted" when I asked if it would hurt. Then again I figured that he hasn't given birth ;)

In the mean time I can't help but think of  an email that made me laugh years ago.The bottom line is that men really are better suited at lifting heavy schit - especially when the lego has multiplied ;)