All posts filed under: personal

How I climbed a small mountain, did something slightly ‘illegal’, & created the sacred

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I chewed my quinoa and baked veg salad looking up at her; in 2 hours from now, it would start. After 16 years of no access, 500 locals had registered for ‘The Chinny Charge’, a 7km run/walk up our tiny but omnipresent Mount Chincogan, near Byron Bay. The queue to collect our numbers was long, and you could feel the buzz of excitement; even Colin, who won the first ever Chinny Charge in 1967 with a time of 38 minutes and a $20 bar tab prize, was enthusiastic (in that utterly laid-back, short-phrased Australian country way) “Stick to the rules, so we can hopefully do it again next year: wear shoes, don’t litter, stick to the path, and no fighting.” [Fighting? I’m going to be struggling just to breathe aren’t I? What exactly went on in the olde days round here??] Yup, I’m happy to agree to all that. The tiny mountain is on private property, so unless the landowners give specific permission (which they do a few times a year to local  school groups), …

Blog tales for the Over 50s with positive ageing, dating & relationships

Planning with teenage son

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Him: One more week of school then I’m on holidays for a month. Me: [In hopeful tone] But we’re still doing fortnight on/fortnight off aren’t we? Him: Not a chance Mum! At Dad’s I have to live on cereal all day; being here is like staying at some kind of foodie resort… I ain’t going anywhere…  

Mother and daughter out for a walk

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A hand strokes her back as they walk down the hill on this warm morning, heading away from me. Giving reassurance, or seeking it? The road is steep, and the frailer figure is definitely an old woman. Her back is stroked again, and I assume that’s her daughter, with the cherry red sunhat and white runners. Similar body shapes, similar height. I’m walking into a mall in England with Mum, July 2017, and we realize the shop she wants is up on the second floor. I know her anxiety and claustrophobia won’t let her get in a lift, and she hates escalators too. “Shall we walk up the stairs Mum? It’s not far. I can hold your arm, or you can hold the railing?” “Ooh, I don’t know, I hate heights. Will you help me?” “Yes of course. Just don’t look down. Let’s talk about something to keep your mind off the height, and definitely don’t look down OK?”  The red hat leans in to whisper something, and the older woman laughs; I hear it …

The ‘rainbow bar’ comes from an Australian engineer; here’s a screenshot

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In this crazy time of hurricanes, floods, and earthquakes, I just want to celebrate a little human caring. This is for all you fabulous Americans/Canadians/UKs/Kiwis etc etc who (after my previous post HERE) commented “I wish I had one of those!”: I’d sent that post in to ‘Discover’ on WordPress, not to get ‘Discovered’, but just to try and let WordPress know how impressed I was. I fast got this email back from the Editorial Team: “Hello GG, Thanks so much for sharing your kind words about the rainbow bar with us. One of our Australian engineers conceived this idea and put it together to be able to show WordPress.com and Automattic’s support for marriage equality. I posted your note and I know he’ll appreciate your support. As a Canadian, (where we’ve had marriage equality since 2005) I wholeheartedly hope Australia votes YES. Let love win! All the best…” And I’ve only had 2 negative comments, which I trashed, and removed as Followers of my blog. Love and let Love indeed ❤  

When a rainbow appeared in my blue WordPress sky…

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It was a few days ago; did you get one? I suddenly registered that there was a rainbow band across the top of my blog, on every page, incl the Stats and Reader. It’s not on my actual blog site, but firmly everywhere else. I couldn’t see it on other blogs though, so last night I Googled it: ‘Why rainbow on WordPress blog?’ Google offered me 2 other people who’d asked the same question of WordPress, both of whom were cranky, saying ‘get this rainbow off my site!’ Here’s the WordPress reply: Australia will be holding a national survey on marriage equality over the next two months. To show our support for marriage equality, we’re showing the rainbow bar to all our Australian visitors. You can read more about the marriage equality campaign here: http://www.equalitycampaign.org.au/ We cannot remove this banner for individual sites. We understand it looks a bit different to what you’re used to, but it’s here for everyone. We absolutely respect your right to publish the content you choose to your site, but the …

Blog tales for the Over 50s with positive ageing, dating & relationships

Driving & talking with teenage son till I laugh/cry/laugh

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So many times as a skinny teenager I used to ask ‘What’s for dinner Mum?’ She’d usually sigh, and dismiss me with ‘Oh I don’t know, I hate cooking.’ I made myself a lot of frozen pizza with instant mash potato. I learnt to love cooking though, especially after becoming a vegetarian in my early, idealistic twenties. When I had my son in my early thirties, I created different memories around food and eating with him; when he was 7 for example, I bought him his own small chopping knife to help me cook with, and ten years later, we still use it. We both enjoy good food a lot (he’s actually making dinner while I write this). His Dad’s a good cook too. We separated when ’17’ was only a toddler, and at first our son spent 2 days with each of us. It slowly stretched to 3 days, then 4; I think he was about 5 when it grew to Week On/Week Off. The day of ‘changeover’ became a mix of sadness and …

Long distance relationships Part 2: ‘Am I in a catapult?’

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The thread between us HERE Part 1 regularly stretches 1600kms. Then it reached 17,000kms while I went to France and the UK. It spiralled in and relaxed on itself while we curled together in my home & wooden bed; now our 5-day date is over, and the 1600kms are back. Plus an extra 1000 as I’ve been flown up to tropical Cairns to walk on stilts for a weekend festival. I’m feeling a bit wobbly from all the movement, all the to-ing and fro-ing. From all the fantasizing about the next long date to come (late Sept), and various future possibilities we’re both curious about (“One of my best friends lives a couple of hours drive away from you- perhaps I could spend 6 months staying there/Maybe we could both move to the same city next year, or the year after…”)? Being in love is delicious, intoxicating, and addictive! Hearts swell like the cherry tomatoes in my garden; minds expand; souls dance. Energies entwine like pumpkin vines, sprouting determinedly wherever they can, winding themselves tightly. …

Living with teenage son No. 250

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Him: ‘Mum look, I’ve created a Study Nook! I’m so going to get on top of my assignments.’ Me [Looking at my now un-useable spare room, complete with blocked access to my linen cupboard, and removal of my only bedside lamp plus the living room coffee table]: ‘That’s great Honey…’ ONE WEEK LATER Me [Having taken back my bedside light, and moved the coffee table so I can get sheets & towels out]: ‘How’s the study going?’ Him: ‘Well I can’t work now that my habitat’s been destroyed.’  

Long distance relationships Part 1: stretching the thread

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Have you ever gone out with someone from across the state? Or what about in a different country altogether? My love and I are spending 6 weeks apart. That’s 42 sleeps. Which includes one of us travelling 17,000 kms away, to France and the UK. It doesn’t seem like much really, in the overall timetable of a Life… Except it also feels like FOREVER. Perhaps you live with someone already? Then imagine not seeing, smelling, touching, hearing nor tasting them for 6 weeks. Not good huh? Similar to missing your children too I guess; I always miss my tall, smelly, hairy, smartypants son like crazy, even though I know I have to ‘be cool’, letting him spread his wings and fly. But I don’t want to be like that with a special new lover. I want to dive in then wallow, spending days in heavy-lidded bliss. Spending hours talking, revealing, learning, wondering, sharing. To proclaim difference, and delight in the similar. To explore cafes, cuisines, cuddles and values. To get shamelessly high on endorphins, oxytocin, …

Blog tales for the Over 50s with positive ageing, dating & relationships

Jetlag’s gone. So I’m back. With a Soft Linger in Puppet Lane…

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Maybe it’s having another birthday pass without hearing from him? Or travelling in France, where he spent so many years? Or simply because I was in the UK seeing Mum? Whatever the reasons, last week I drove home from work in a nearby town, and a vivid memory bubble burst across my steering wheel. Because as well as blogging, I’m a performer. I do street theatre, festivals, corporate gigs, and community events like parades, fundraisers, and cabarets. It’s a great [varied] job, I’m pretty good at it, and have been doing it in various incarnations for almost 25 years: My memory bubble was from 2005: Dad had flown from his home in Canada to visit for 3 weeks, and I was performing in a cabaret fundraiser at local queer pub The Winsome. The venue was packed, and noisy. Lots of flamboyant folk were being flamboyant, while the MC was being very funny. I asked for a simple introduction, and settled myself quietly on the floor with my large black garbage bag. The crowd wasn’t taking …