You know, it's never occurred to me that anyone would think my siblings are anything other than awesome.
I am the oldest of 4 - two sisters and a brother.
My next sister has three kids (which I think deserves a medal in and of itself). She is courageous and loving and adventurous and doesn't seem to think life has any boundaries. She's generous and caring and ferocious in the best possible way. She's in to roller derby and she's creative and boundary-less!
My youngest sister is fun and resilient and beautiful. She's "made it" in most peoples' view but she's down-to-earth and tender and I think she's absolutely amazing. She's also courageous, and places a huge value on people.
My brother, the youngest of us, is wonderfully soft and tender in a completely manly way. He communicates perfectly with people of every demographic and honestly has a heart of gold. I wish he knew how amazing and special he is! He has an incredible, infectious laugh (which occasionally leads to the infamous walrus laugh, which breeds further laughter) and a strong sense of morality.
Tonight I'm just reflecting on how incredibly lucky I am to have such wonderful siblings. I love you all and I miss you terribly! You are my inspiration and I often wish I was more like each of you.
Thursday, 18 February 2016
Saturday, 13 February 2016
That can't be right!!!
So, I've had a couple of ciders with the Big Fella this evening and I'm possibly a little fuzzy. Please forgive anything stupid that comes out of this post!
My blog is hosted (?) through Blogspot and they give me stats about it. Things like how many people read each post, which websites the clicks come from, and which country you're in when you read it.
Apparently this week I've had readers from Russia, Australia, France, the United States, Poland, Brazil, Mexico, Argentina, China and Columbia. And apparently 51 people have read my Irrational post.
And while I'm absolutely chuffed about the idea of people from so many places reading the stuff that comes out of my head, I just can't see how it's true!
So I have a request, if you're willing to participate.
Would you be willing to put in a comment at the bottom of this post? Would you put your name and country (and, especially if you're in Australia, your town)?
I'd really like to know who you are!
Thanks :)
My blog is hosted (?) through Blogspot and they give me stats about it. Things like how many people read each post, which websites the clicks come from, and which country you're in when you read it.
Apparently this week I've had readers from Russia, Australia, France, the United States, Poland, Brazil, Mexico, Argentina, China and Columbia. And apparently 51 people have read my Irrational post.
And while I'm absolutely chuffed about the idea of people from so many places reading the stuff that comes out of my head, I just can't see how it's true!
So I have a request, if you're willing to participate.
Would you be willing to put in a comment at the bottom of this post? Would you put your name and country (and, especially if you're in Australia, your town)?
I'd really like to know who you are!
Thanks :)
Late night reflections
I wrote recently about one of the reasons I haven't been blogging lots lately. Another main reason is that my work hours have changed, which means I have much less time after the Little Big Fella goes to bed before I hit the hay, too.
And it turns out that my creative (especially reflective) writing is done 99.9% of the time in the hours between 10 and midnight.
Poop for blogland!
But tonight is Friday after a long, hard week, my Fellas are snoring and I'm ready to put a few thoughts into the netherworld of the internet.
My Nanna turned 80 today! I wish so much that I could be there to say, "Happy Birthday" and give her a birthday hug!!!
But I've been reflecting on some of my favourite memories of her, and the things I love about her, and how lucky I have been to have lived so close to her and Poppy as an adult. Some days that would make me teary because I don't have it now. But today it just makes me grateful to have been influenced by such a loving, courageous, safe, comfortable, practical, strong woman.
I love you, Nanna!
My youngest sister rang me tonight and we had a good chat and a laugh. While we were talking, my brother rang her and we ended up having a group call! It was almost as good as catching up for a cuppa together.
I had to tell them my painful story.
Last year the Little Big Fella's school took them roller skating for an end-of-year activity. He loved it and wanted to do it every day over the holidays. So last Friday night I'd found out that it was open to the public and I took the Little Big Fella along (despite being absolutely shattered and just wanting to curl up on the couch with a book).
He was SO excited!
To start with, he probably spent about 90% of the time picking himself up off the ground, but by the end of the session he was skating around the middle of the rink and mostly keeping his balance! I was really impressed!
But near the start, we were skating around the edges very slowly and my skate got stuck on a bit of dirt or something on the ground.
You know those cartoons where people are about to slip over and their feet go backwards and forwards several times really fast before both feet flip up in front of them and they fall on their butt? Yeah, I did a pretty good impression of that! I laughed about it, because it must have looked pretty spectacular! But I am still feeling it!
I'm pretty sure I'm somewhat allergic to the coal dust in the air here. It makes me sneeze... a lot! Even when I take antihistamines.
Did you know that when you sneeze, it causes your butt to clench slightly? Nope, neither did I until the first time I sneezed the day after roller skating!!!!!! Oh my Lord! The pain!!!!
But it makes a pretty good story, so I happily shared it with my siblings, who had a good laugh. (I even managed to induce the infamous walrus laugh from my brother!)
You know those memes on Facebook about the best friends being those who you can chat with after years of not talking, and it's as if you were talking yesterday? That's what I get with my family. We're terrible at calling each other. But we think of each other all the time. And when we do catch up, it is THE BEST!
The next door neighbour's cat is calling out to its owners (also known as slaves) to let it in, which reminded me of a recent 4am wake up. Did you know that a cat meowing can sound like your son calling, "Mum" in the saddest voice ever? I woke very suddenly, rushed to his room to discover him fast asleep.
What????
I mean, I know he occasionally sleepwalks to the loo, but calling out to me in his sleep like that?
Then the cat meowed a few more times and I went back to bed, having discovered the trickery.
It continued for the next hour and half, by the way.
I would have willingly shot it and faced the prospect of jail that night. Except getting out of bed, even to shoot the cat (who I quite like in the daylight) would have taken way more effort than I was willing to expend.
The Big Fella has been away for a couple of days of training for work and came home this evening. It was only two days, but I missed him and I'm really glad to have him home.
Can you imagine any reason that someone would build a 3-bay shed and not put power to it? A small garden shed, maybe. But anything big enough to stand properly in, and definitely anything big enough to fit a car in needs power.
Apparently the previous owners don't agree.
So the Big Fella dug a trench (which filled with LOTS of water - we had over 150mm of rain in 4 days just after he dug most of the trench). And the electrician has been and connected power from the house to the distributor box in the shed. Now to hook up lights, fans and power points so that it can truly be a drool-worthy man-cave!
Okay, the rambler has rambled enough and needs to go to bed. Or finish reading her novel. Sleep well, my friends!
And it turns out that my creative (especially reflective) writing is done 99.9% of the time in the hours between 10 and midnight.
Poop for blogland!
But tonight is Friday after a long, hard week, my Fellas are snoring and I'm ready to put a few thoughts into the netherworld of the internet.
My Nanna turned 80 today! I wish so much that I could be there to say, "Happy Birthday" and give her a birthday hug!!!
But I've been reflecting on some of my favourite memories of her, and the things I love about her, and how lucky I have been to have lived so close to her and Poppy as an adult. Some days that would make me teary because I don't have it now. But today it just makes me grateful to have been influenced by such a loving, courageous, safe, comfortable, practical, strong woman.
I love you, Nanna!
My youngest sister rang me tonight and we had a good chat and a laugh. While we were talking, my brother rang her and we ended up having a group call! It was almost as good as catching up for a cuppa together.
I had to tell them my painful story.
Last year the Little Big Fella's school took them roller skating for an end-of-year activity. He loved it and wanted to do it every day over the holidays. So last Friday night I'd found out that it was open to the public and I took the Little Big Fella along (despite being absolutely shattered and just wanting to curl up on the couch with a book).
He was SO excited!
To start with, he probably spent about 90% of the time picking himself up off the ground, but by the end of the session he was skating around the middle of the rink and mostly keeping his balance! I was really impressed!
But near the start, we were skating around the edges very slowly and my skate got stuck on a bit of dirt or something on the ground.
You know those cartoons where people are about to slip over and their feet go backwards and forwards several times really fast before both feet flip up in front of them and they fall on their butt? Yeah, I did a pretty good impression of that! I laughed about it, because it must have looked pretty spectacular! But I am still feeling it!
I'm pretty sure I'm somewhat allergic to the coal dust in the air here. It makes me sneeze... a lot! Even when I take antihistamines.
Did you know that when you sneeze, it causes your butt to clench slightly? Nope, neither did I until the first time I sneezed the day after roller skating!!!!!! Oh my Lord! The pain!!!!
But it makes a pretty good story, so I happily shared it with my siblings, who had a good laugh. (I even managed to induce the infamous walrus laugh from my brother!)
You know those memes on Facebook about the best friends being those who you can chat with after years of not talking, and it's as if you were talking yesterday? That's what I get with my family. We're terrible at calling each other. But we think of each other all the time. And when we do catch up, it is THE BEST!
The next door neighbour's cat is calling out to its owners (also known as slaves) to let it in, which reminded me of a recent 4am wake up. Did you know that a cat meowing can sound like your son calling, "Mum" in the saddest voice ever? I woke very suddenly, rushed to his room to discover him fast asleep.
What????
I mean, I know he occasionally sleepwalks to the loo, but calling out to me in his sleep like that?
Then the cat meowed a few more times and I went back to bed, having discovered the trickery.
It continued for the next hour and half, by the way.
I would have willingly shot it and faced the prospect of jail that night. Except getting out of bed, even to shoot the cat (who I quite like in the daylight) would have taken way more effort than I was willing to expend.
The Big Fella has been away for a couple of days of training for work and came home this evening. It was only two days, but I missed him and I'm really glad to have him home.
Can you imagine any reason that someone would build a 3-bay shed and not put power to it? A small garden shed, maybe. But anything big enough to stand properly in, and definitely anything big enough to fit a car in needs power.
Apparently the previous owners don't agree.
So the Big Fella dug a trench (which filled with LOTS of water - we had over 150mm of rain in 4 days just after he dug most of the trench). And the electrician has been and connected power from the house to the distributor box in the shed. Now to hook up lights, fans and power points so that it can truly be a drool-worthy man-cave!
Okay, the rambler has rambled enough and needs to go to bed. Or finish reading her novel. Sleep well, my friends!
Wednesday, 3 February 2016
Irrational
Some days I find myself feeling particularly cross. I snap at my Fellas (normally internally, but sometimes it escapes), and sometimes stomp or crash about, and huff or sigh. My countenance lacks sunshine, and my words are short and sharp.
My mum's catch phrase in these times is,
I'm the kind of person who looks inwardly and tries to discover the source of ill humour, in the hope that identifying it will allow me to change something and, thus, improve my disposition.
Sometimes the cause is the apparent mass of tasks that need to be done in the short time available. If I'm honest with you, this is often self-induced, but I do like to add interesting things to the repetitiveness of life.
Or the fact that others in the house appear to contribute only to the messing stuff up, rather than the cleaning up side of things (which, by the way, is completely untrue - it only feels that way some days).
Sometimes the cause of my disharmony is a hangover of whatever has been happening at work. Others may have been in a foul mood or had disasters in their life, and I take it on.
But sometimes I'm irrationally cranky. There is no obvious reason for being a sourpuss, and certainly no reason to take it out on others.
As my Poppy used to say, "I've got my cranky pants on"!
And being cranky when it's irrational, makes me crankier because I know I'm being completely unfair on those around me.
So, to my Fellas, I apologise again. You two are wonderful and I incredibly lucky to have both of you! I love you...
and so do my cranky pants!
My mum's catch phrase in these times is,
"if you can't control (your life, yourself, the world... take your pick), control the mess",
and I have learned that throwing myself into busy housework activity can sometimes improve my mood because I've improved my environment.
I'm the kind of person who looks inwardly and tries to discover the source of ill humour, in the hope that identifying it will allow me to change something and, thus, improve my disposition.
Sometimes the cause is the apparent mass of tasks that need to be done in the short time available. If I'm honest with you, this is often self-induced, but I do like to add interesting things to the repetitiveness of life.
Or the fact that others in the house appear to contribute only to the messing stuff up, rather than the cleaning up side of things (which, by the way, is completely untrue - it only feels that way some days).
Sometimes the cause of my disharmony is a hangover of whatever has been happening at work. Others may have been in a foul mood or had disasters in their life, and I take it on.
But sometimes I'm irrationally cranky. There is no obvious reason for being a sourpuss, and certainly no reason to take it out on others.
As my Poppy used to say, "I've got my cranky pants on"!
And being cranky when it's irrational, makes me crankier because I know I'm being completely unfair on those around me.
So, to my Fellas, I apologise again. You two are wonderful and I incredibly lucky to have both of you! I love you...
and so do my cranky pants!
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