All posts tagged: ForgivingFridays

I stole this from Mum’s hallway last time I was there. And I’m glad I did.

I’ve got to start by noting how cute I was when I was two, I’m sorry. I can’t possibly avoid it. I’ve no recollection of where I am, or who took the photo, although I can safely assume it was Dad. And perhaps I’m wearing Mum’s hat? I’m guessing I was about 2 and a half, and to this day I still like to sport a good cap. I’d never seen this picture before summer 2018, when I spotted it at Mum’s house in England on my last visit. She must have dug it out of somewhere, during her constant, chaotic, unnecessary ‘organising and sorting’. It was propped on the little table in the narrow hallway, next to those ceramic hedgehogs I made as a surly teenager at my part-time summer job; it made us both smile when I picked it up and commented on it. After those 3 weeks down in Devon, doing my best to take care of Mum’s needs, filling her full of good healthy food/going to the dentist/doctor/hairdresser/theatre etc etc, the …

Me Monday: celebrate Australia Day? No damn way. And here’s why

I emigrated to Australia in early January 1987, aged 20. Moved into a run-down three level terrace house in a dodgy inner suburb of Sydney, and began settling in to the new ways, sights and scents of my adopted home. The smell of sickly sweet mangoes rotting and fresh frangipani flowers still triggers memories of my first real Australian summer. A national day of celebration was quickly upon me: January 26 is nominated as ‘Australia Day’, celebrating the first arrival of Captain Cook, who claimed this land for the British Crown. It’s a public holiday 3-day weekend, involving beer, barbecues, and ridiculous waving of the ugly Australian flag with patriotic pride. That particular morning dawned hot, and outside our scruffy student home, on a wide street where the heat was already shimmering off the asphalt, folk began to gather in the park. There were banners, drums, didgeridoos, ochre body painting, and cardboard signs everywhere, plus lots of black. Black armbands, black T-shirts, black flags, and of course black, brown, white, and pink faces. It was a …

relationships, online dating, raising a teenager, over 50, positive ageing

Bumpy

I haven’t updated about my online dating romance in a while, as things have just been cruising along: month off/week on/daily texts/phone calls & Skype chats 3 times a week or so, all cute n cosy. Till ‘H’s latest visit this weekend. Hmmm, is ‘bumpy’ the right word? No one’s fault really; just two slightly stressed human beings, bringing their fears, their wounds, and their frailty to the fore. You all know I’ve got quite a lot going on: Mum over in the UK who’s health is in decline and in a bit of a crisis right now, plus general exhaustion at the shitty state of the world. ‘H’ packed a small suitcase for this trip with some of the stress of building a new house on a tight budget, and various other creative/financial challenges at home in Melbourne. We tried to set our 4-day table with care and kindness, but right from the airport pick up, we somehow disconnected. Oh dear. Add in a delayed flight, driving home in the dark, missing dinner etc, plus …

Down the long lane

My mother, who lives in England, turned 80 on July 4. From Australia, I had organised a 3-day weekend get together in an old farmhouse on Dartmoor for our closest relatives, meaning 13 of us met up to celebrate. I hauled myself over to the UK, begrudging all those people who sleep easily on planes. Still, four good films in a row aren’t bad going. A couple of weeks before I left, I treated myself to a massage. As usual, I wondered why I don’t do it more often? It was such a lush experience, with hot white towels softly lowered over me, and warm wheat-bags resting along each limb, feeding the air with that fresh bread scent. No tinny dolphin music, just silence. It was in a private home, so no exterior noise, or impatient clients waiting outside the door for us to finish. The masseur created a wonderful sense of nurturing, with her deliberate, knowledgeable movements, and I sank into the experience. I’d had a horrible cough for a few days, so I …