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Super Powers

One of the benefits of being a mum is that you grow eyes in the back of your head. How else would I know who poked who? Or who hid their broccoli in a basket in the play tent? But that's not all. I happen to have other extraordinary powers... Gary calls me 'Detective' because I can be away for 5 days, and within 5 minutes of being home give a rundown of everything that transpired at home while I was gone, right down to how much toast was burnt and who came over for a play, and where they played that's off-limits. [It helps if your child takes photos with your camera when you're not there...:)]

But my dad really has got super powers. He can find you. I can be out somewhere, a place I didn't even know I'd be, and my dad will walk in. And not because he just happened past - because he just knew I'd be there. Over the years he's put it to good use in large shopping centres: we'd hear his particular whistle through the throngs of people, and sure enough, there he'd be.

Gary has an unique ability to remember every inch of every outback track he's ever travelled. And every moment of every trip we've ever taken. Ask him what he had for dinner last night and he'd be hard-pressed to remember.

And Alexandra has her own set of super powers to counteract mine. She has this ability to know exactly which of my buttons to press, at the most (in)appropriate time, two steps ahead of me. Either super smart or not, depending on what life expectancy she has in mind. Although she does know when to step in with a well-timed, sugar-coated, 'I love you Mummy'...

What super powers do you possess?

That Halo Effect

Considering how tall I am, it should come as no surprise that for years I have had difficulty buying shoes. Well, I guess more than that, I can't actually find shoes that fit me. It's not so bad over summer, when I can get by with my toes or heel hanging over the edge of the shoe. But in winter, when shoes are closed in, I have lots of trouble getting something to fit. This winter, it had been 2 years since I had bought shoes, and I was getting desperate. I knew I would be paying full price for shoes, and it annoyed me that I would have to pay through the nose and and they would still not fit well.

However, I had been listening to radio ads for Gilmour's Comfort Shoes, who specialise in fitting hard-to-fit-feet. I guess that I qualify for that, so off I went, only to discover that they needed to add the word 'nanna' into their ad somewhere. I honestly wished that I could quietly back out of the store when I saw that their shoes catered especially to those seen on the bowling green or in aged-care facilities, either on the residents or on the nursing staff. However, I was there, I held a 'number' in my hand, and before I knew it I was being checked for size.

I have to admit that even I was shocked. I had originally started off adult life as a size 10.5 (ladies), and then seemed to grow to 11 after I was pregnant with Christopher. Since I had Alexandra, I could no longer squeeze into 11's, so I was always on the search for 11.5. Well, lo and behold, it seems that I am actually a size 13. Yes, that's right, T-H-I-R-T-E-E-N. A 13 N to be exact. Very long, very skinny. I knew I wouldn't be getting any shoes in a regular department store anymore. I scanned the shelves - all the shoes were lace-up or velcro-strapped. Inside of me a voice was screaming - crying for all the high heeled, strappy shoes I knew I was destined to no longer wear. I didn't care about comfort, I only cared about how I looked.

Slowly I was surrounded by shoe boxes. Pair after pair of shoes came out from the store room, all with the label 13 N on them. I had been quite explicit about what I wanted - a nice pair of shoes to wear out: dressier than runners, more casual than courts. The people from Gilmour's were kind enough to show me their entire range for my size - including sandals. In winter. Just in case, so I knew I could get something in summer. I started to eliminate them one by one. Too ugly. Not stylish enough. Didn't fit properly. Things were not looking good. Eventually, they came back to a shoe they had shown me first off. I had dismissed it as being a typical 'nanna' shoe, and refused to even try something so ugly. Now, things were grim. I was running out of shoes. One of the people serving me, Joe, told me that these shoes were special. They had a Halo Effect. This Halo Effect meant that although I cared more about how I look in the shoes before I put them on, once on - feet comfortably in heaven - the Halo Effect would kick in and I would feel good all over, and not care how they look.

I tried them on. Joe was right. One and a half hours after entering the shop I came home with them, and they have barely left my blissful feet since:

 

The Two Me's

Just musing recently about how things change. I used to be excruciatingly shy, infact I would still say that on the inside, I am basically a shy person. Whenever I mention this to friends, they are inevitably rolling around on the floor, laughing their heads off. Couldn't possibly imagine this person who can't keep her mouth shut as shy at all. I made a concious decision to change when I started at university: I could either continue on as my painfully shy self, or make an effort to approach others. I could start a new life. I can still remember the day clearly - waiting in the corridor for one of my classes, I nervously struck up a conversation with the other two people waiting there. The girl's name was Ja, and we are still friends today, 20+ years later. The second person, a guy called Andrew, asked me out on a couple of dates (we're not still friends today, lol). It became obvious fairly quickly that this was the right way to go. Join in or get left behind. Nowadays, I don't have a problem approaching people, and if I decide to be the old me, friends think that I'm unwell. There aren't many people left in my life who witnessed the old me; not even Gary. But we're going away in January, camping with my cousins who live interstate. I don't see them very often, and they remember me as that shy and awkward girl. Boy, are they in for a surprise. Or I may just take the opportunity to chill out and revisit my past.

And isn't it funny how age changes you too. I have often been left open-mouthed at the things old people clearly have no compunction in stating. No sign of diplomacy. No hint of contrition. Every now and then, I catch myself saying things I once never would have. Nothing that bad, but not the usual me. I wouldn't say that I'm that old yet, but I think I can now see which direction those old people are coming from.

But some things never change. I am the ideal person to play poker with - I wear my heart on my sleeve. When it comes to how I'm really feeling, you'll always get the honest truth from me, something that's never changed. Usually I manage to do this tactfully, but sometimes... (see second paragraph). Life's too short to waste time.

Fish 'n Chips

There was great excitement in the household the last time I got a new mobile phone, several months ago. This new phone had a camera. I would be happy with just a phone that makes and receives calls, as I already have a very good camera that takes far better photos. But I don't think those types of phones exist nowadays. Anyway, Friday last week, Alexandra and I went out to get take-away for dinner, and it gave her an opportunity to play photo-journalist with my phone and record the trip. It's taken me since then to figure out how to get the photos off the camera.  Here's the trip in living colour; my favorite is the third photo in the last row:

Guess what's uppermost in the mind of a 6 year old: herself, and McDonald's sundaes. Should be no surprise... 

Doing My Head In

Do you ever have days when you just crave a bit of piece and quiet, so that you can concentrate (and in my case, finish work and/or assignments)? Do you ever find that when you need it, that's when it just never is quiet?

Case in point: today, there is a !$*#!*&#!^ bird outside who just won't shut up. I'm presuming it's an indian minor, probably a mama, looking out for family or friends. But it just sits there, chirping incessantly, with the regularity of super-nano-logic-digital-clockwork.

And to top it off, our cat Whingey - oops, sorry - that was meant to be Tiger - just won't shut up either - meowing incessantly despite having been fed/cuddled/let out/let in. And he insists on shadowing me wherever I go. I thought it would be a good idea to get him and the bird together, as Whingey-Tiger is quite a good bird hunter, but he wasn't keen on the idea, as I wasn't following. Here's a picture of Whingey-Tiger:

I would have posted a photo of the bird if I could get close enough to get a photo, but in that case I would have wrung its neck anyway, and it wouldn't have been a pretty picture...

Living in Parallel Universes

This week I have been paying the consequences for living in parallel universes last week.

Just like this time every year, I have so much on my plate at the moment, and regularly get so little sleep it's a wonder that I let my head operate on its own for choosing breakfast cereal, let alone anything more important.

Nearly every arrangement I made for this week, over the past week, was done without referring to my diary - using my head to commit dates to work and social activities. So far this week, I've managed to get a calligraphy society meeting, a scrapbooking crop, a client meeting, and a clothing party double booked. I'm still waiting to find out what I've actually missed. It's only Tuesday.

One thing I did manage to do today was get to my dance class at the gym, for my weekly dose of hysterical laughter combined with uncoordinated movement supposedly passing for dancing. But I suppose it doesn't really matter what it looks like, when the idea is just to get a cardio workout. The temperature in Melbourne overnight was about 25 deg celsius, and it got to about 36 degrees today, so it shouldn't be a surprise then that even half an hour after the completion of the class, and after a shower, my face was the same colour as my top, a wonderful shade of beetroot. I'm guessing it passed the test for a workout...

Ranchers Delight

Our friend Phil is footloose and fancy-free, so he is able to do things with cars that Gary only dreams about (ah, the price of wife and kids...) He seems to buy another yank tank roughly every month or so, and I tend now to glaze over when Gary starts talking about them. Gary started many years ago with a hearse, and he accessorised it with coffin, cobwebs, assorted cut-off hands/heads, spiders etc. With his Lincoln Continental, he added fur and a disco ball. When he met Phil he found a kindred soul - someone who could identify and sympathise with car parts indoors on carpet, over-the-top 'accessories', size of fleet etc. The fun modified with marriage & kids for Gary, but for Phil, well, he keeps us entertained.

Yesterday, Phil called in with his new Cadillac convertible, and took us for a spin. I have to admit this is one seriously cool car. I had heard it was brown, and I thought it may be a bit boring, but Phil has customised it with cow hide floor coverings and a sheriff's kit - see the handcuffs, and sheriff's badge on the dashboard. There was a Smith & Wesson gun and a north american indian rattle somewhere too. We drove down to Beach Road and cruised for a short while, entertaining onlookers with his 'mooing' car horn. [Can you believe that? Snow in much of eastern Australia earlier this week, two weeks before the start of summer, and then almost 30 deg celcius Sunday!]. Of course the first thing Gary said was "Can we get one too?" and of course I ignored it, but I must admit that I could have been tempted... Prefer to take this car to the drive-in than the hearse - the accessories are easier to deal with.

 

Check it out: one seriously cool cowboy, one green friend...

Do You Know What This Is?

It's the assessment of my teaching session today - I'm competent! Only one more assignment at home, another in class, and ONE more week to go, and hopefully I'll then be fully qualified to teach at a TAFE college anywhere in Australia. And the best thing is that as a result there may even be a possibility of teaching classes at this venue. I'm still doing the Happy Dance!

Doing the Happy Dance

OK, excuse my indulgence here... Just got four - that's right four! - assignments finished for school (Cert IV in Training & Assessment) tomorrow. Eyes are currently hanging out of my head, but I can still muster up the energy to do the Happy Dance. Gary's in bed sound asleep so I thought I'd tell you instead.

Tomorrow (today!) is when I get to present a session plan to the rest of the class for assessment. I've taught it hundreds of times over the last 11 years, but I'm really nervous to be teaching 'How to Use a Broad-Edged Pen' to a group of people who've got no interest in calligraphy at all... Wish me luck! Only 2 more weeks to go and then I've got my Fridays back - yay!

Hosting a 12 hour crop with Wendy on Saturday so got stacks to do once I'm through this, but for now this is one happy girl signing off....

It's a Cold and Rainy Day Here...

The rainy bit is good. Having a quietly busy day attending to customer lettering. Doing the odd load of washing. Trying to get over a cold. Nothing extraordinary. Then I saw this:

This is a rock Christopher found a couple of weekends ago, in the Aberfeldy River, near Walhalla. Although you can't tell by the picture, it's shaped very much like an egg. I found it just where you'd expect - on the handrail of the stairs. And it's been chalked to look like Father Christmas.

Made me smile...