Author: bone&silver

The 2nd heavy rock in my heart: no more long distance relationship

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Yesterday, after exactly 15 months of loving romance, and 18 months since we first met online, I posted a parcel back to ‘H’. It held a few things, but most importantly our ‘connection ring’. I had to get it out of the house. Because a month ago, after ‘H’s last visit for Valentine’s Day (which was wonderful), things went pear-shaped, and despite our love and care for each other, we simply couldn’t get ourselves back to a place of unity. I’m so sad. We both are of course.  But I have to keep writing here as part of my process, thus ‘H’ has unfollowed the blog. I’ve been dreading articulating this, as it makes it all the more real. I’ve definitely just had the most wonderfully unique relationship of my life; being met on a creative level was profoundly satisfying, and ‘H’ was the sweetest, kindest person to spend intimate time with. I regret not one second. Despite the painful disagreements, and the challenges of distance, I am utterly grateful for every lesson, every joy, …

Mum update No.1

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Following up on my last concerned post about Mum HERE, her younger sister ‘W’ emailed me this morning, saying she’d found Mum obviously a bit muddled last Friday, but definitely cheery. They all went out for a pub lunch overlooking the sea (which Mum would have relished), and laughed a lot. I LOVED hearing this, as you can imagine. ‘W’ confirmed that the twice-daily community care visits help Mum with eating regularly, and social interaction; I also pay for a weekly cleaner, who arrived while they were leaving for lunch, so that’s running smoothly as well. We’re all doing the best we can aren’t we? Tomorrow morning I’m Skypeing with my cousin, W’s daughter, who lives 1.5hrs from Mum, with a degree in Social Work, so is a good communicator, plus knows her way round difficult situations, and dealing with various community services: I’m so lucky! And YOU are all wonderful, with your loving, helpful, positive comments, your sharing of similar situations, and your well wishes and candle-lighting. Thank you so much; I hope my …

There’s no such place as ‘Away’

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I went for a walk this morning on a local beach near Byron Bay; the tide was super high, as there’s a storm sitting off the East coast, so the waves were frothing and pounding. Without searching for them, I picked up these pieces of plastic directly in my path- the red one is a balloon. I always collect rubbish, and have written about it before HERE, including my top 3 tips for reducing plastic consumption. A couple of days ago, I watched a pelican swooping down to the same sand; I dread thinking about plastic shards in its belly. A friend summed it up terrifyingly: there’s no such place as ‘Away’. No plastic we use just disappears… it takes generations of time. So carry your own takeaway coffee cup: Australia uses over 1 billion a year. Americans throw away 25 billion styrofoam coffee cups every year, and 2.5 million plastic beverage bottles every hour. – Carry Your Cup website I simply want ’17’ to be able to walk on a beach NOT covered in plastic, with his grandchildren… Please …

Two rocks lie heavy in my heart; the first is Mum

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Why was I getting an email from a policewoman in England; is this the latest scam? But I recognised her station’s address, so clicked it open with dread. It was about Mum. “We’ve had a couple of calls from members of the public concerned about her welfare as she appeared very confused. I attended her home address & agree that her dementia is getting worse.” I wrote last year about Mum’s diagnosis in the post ‘She’s slipping through my fingers and there’s nothing I can do’; it’s been a waiting game since then. You see, as a child, Mum spent two years in a sanatorium, recovering from Tuberculosis, and has had a dread of hospitals and ‘group homes’ ever since. Dark things happened there, and she is forever scarred. So for the last ten years, when it would have been a smart, forward-thinking plan to move to a retirement village, and enjoy all the facilities and interactions available, she refused. Wouldn’t have a bar of it. Last year when I was in England visiting her, she …

“Why would you try to scam Grace Jones?”

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Last Friday evening, two girlfriends and I went to see the new documentary release about singer Grace Jones, which was followed by a live Q & A from Norway with the Director. Called Bloodlight and Bami, filmed and edited over 5 years by Sophie Fiennes, it was certainly different. Non-linear, following Grace on a visit home to confront family skeletons in Jamaica, interspersed with incredible live concert footage, and viewed from a ‘fly on the wall’ perspective, it was fascinating. Plus a bit annoying. Sometimes the sound was too muffled, or I just wanted someone to sit down facing the camera directly, keep still, and tell me exactly what was going on. But that’s not Grace is it? Nor the way she lived/lives her life; this 1-minute film trailer gives you a taste of the docos style. I absolutely loved Grace Jones as I grew up in England, with her background of reggae and punk combining with in-yer-face attitude and androgynous daring: such a contrast to my quiet, small, skinny, serious white girl reality. I knew …

The final pictures painted by Tasmania herself

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Good morning Day 3. Let’s hike 19kms, but only carry our heavy packs for the last 2 hours, as we head out along Cape Pillar, then back. It’s a deal. Let’s look at the grand, and the tiny. Deal. Along the way, we pass ‘story seats’; beautifully-designed places to stop and share a Nature + Art experience, with accompanying notes in the award-winning guide book (I designated myself the Narrator, and am forcing myself to not tell you a hundred fascinating facts about some of these views). We went through a variety of landscapes, saw three black snakes (all venomous yes: either Tigers or Copperheads), and relished the lightness of our daypacks. Then we saw a wombat! It was SO big, and we got so close; it just squatted there yawning and looking sideways at us; it reminded me of ’17’, when he’s come home very late from a party, and just wants to be left alone, but could also maybe handle a snuggle and watching a film in bed, eating a late brekky before …

Happy International Women’s Day, hell yeah!

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Happy International Women’s Day. From the African woman who goes without food so her child can eat; from the Syrian refugee who puts her baby on a boat to a better life; from the lawyer or politician who advocates for equal rights; from the stay-at-home Mum gaining pleasure from the school run; from the wheel-chair user; from the butch/tomboy lesbian who wants no kids but to fix cars instead; from the Artist, the sex worker, the cleaner, the chef, the corporate Queen, the cashier: WOMEN ARE AMAZING. Happy International Women’s Day, and won’t it be a great fucken day when we no longer have to have this day, because we have Equality? I honour and celebrate EVERY WOMAN EVERY WHERE DOING WHATEVER SHE WANTS/NEEDS TO BE HERSELF, TO SURVIVE AND HOPEFULLY THRIVE, and to my dear old Mum, my first experience of Woman, who absolutely taught me to be a Feminist, first and foremost. I truly think that’s her greatest gift to me, and I have passed it on to my son, which I believe …

Let these pictures paint a thousand words

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Tasmania, I love you. And so do my three friends. You are wild, fresh, magnificent, and pretty much pristine. Your vistas are incredible, but oh boy do your boardwalks and ascents make big demands on calf muscles and over 50 bodies. Your lunch views suck, but we dealt with it. Our 15kg packs felt heavier and heavier as the day progressed, yet your beauty compelled us on. Plus there was nowhere else to go but forward anyway, so I tried to focus on the big picture, and small details too, like moss, or wombat poo (they only do it every 16 days, and it’s kinda cubed). Then we saw you, rising out of the bush like an oasis: Hut Two. We’d made the 11kms of Day Two of the Three Capes Track! Another day, another architecturally designed complex, including a viewing platform with telescope (but still no fridges or hot showers). There was a cold shower, but I’d rather stay grubby (or use a quick body wipe). The sunset skies were stunning. And good news: …

How to sleep (or not sleep) with a man in a cabin in the Tasmanian wilderness

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So we took nearly 2 hours to walk 4.5kms on the first day of the Three Capes Track because we kept stopping to pee and/or take photos. Finally we arrived though, and here’s G49 (the birthday girl) perfecting her “Please-stop-taking-more-photos-for-your-blog” pose. The ‘huts’ were fantastic: built less than 2 years ago, all timber and colorbond (very typical Australian architecture), with stunning views, and well-equipped stainless steel kitchens (no fridges, plus you must bring all your own meals, and take out all your rubbish). Yoga mats and a foam roller were also provided, plus a pile of boardgames and packs of cards. But the best thing of course, was walking around without your pack!  We were welcomed and briefed by the ranger, who gave us a history of the site, the latest weather update, and an orientation re the next day’s walking (11kms). It all felt super organised and well-designed. Except for the sleeping arrangements. You see, up to 48 people can book to walk the track at one time, and the rangers assign the same numbered …

Starting the Three Capes Track adventure in Tasmania

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I’m back from the wilds of Tasmania! And clearly WE MADE IT. But oh my goodness was it a long, hard slog. We met in Hobart, and spent a night comparing pack sizes, being a bit giggly with both excitement and nerves. Three women over 50, and one about to turn- hence this walk, which she organized brilliantly. We Ubered to Port Arthur, from where we had to catch a 2pm ferry to the track drop off point; and so began the first of several ‘incidents’. You see, there’s me in that first selfie, quite happily thinking I’m going on a max. 15 minute boat ride on flat calm water, all happy happy with my dear friends. Till we find out it’s actually about an hour long, we go right out to the edge of the cape to spot wildlife, and it’s so rough and wet that they automatically provide all passengers with full length head-to-toe red capes. Anyway, we survived; we did see a sea eagle’s nest (over 30 years old), and spot some albatrosses; …