ReadingCircle

Moving

2007-03-21T02:14:00.000-07:00

I've moved to wordpress!! Check out my new blog with personalised banner, categories and new pages Thanks Lady Sultana for getting me moving and showing me a few tricks!

www.readingcircles.wordpress.com

New Friend

2007-03-19T04:48:00.000-07:00

I made another friend today! Such an exciting time making a new friend, the possibilities and the excitement that a person's potential brings to someone else's life.

Job Hunting

2007-03-19T04:45:00.000-07:00

Wow I'm on the market and I've got a job offer all in a matter of weeks... I've had a fabulous month or so thinking carefully about what I want to do and I've realised a few things - what great friends I've collected over the past few years. People who are prepared to ask hard questions, give genuine support and push me to do bigger and better things.

Paradise

2007-03-10T02:39:00.000-08:00

My feet are a little chilled from sitting under the peppy trees just meters from the beautiful Prevelly Beach coast line. My brain is a little buzzy from good wine and great conversation with the fab G & J. I've posted my reading circle books I've read, now I've got a new list! Books to read courtesy of the PP Book Club and the retirees (who have copious amounts of time to leisurely wade through whatever literature they choose to devote their time to!)

Cormack McCarthy
Blood Meridian
All the Pretty Horses
The Crossing
Cities of the Plain
No Place for Old Men
The Orchard Keeper
The Road
(Yeh but which one do I read first!!)

The Perks of Being Wallflower ...now that sounds up my alley! I remember waiting to be picked to dance in the school (smelly) hall.

Jo reckons not a chance in hell of me being a wall flower - bless him!!

My LIfe as A Fake
Peter Carey
Erm Malley poems, great Australian Fakster

Classic Western (wish my hair was long enough for piggies, bought a great western checked shirt at a garage sale last week...even got the sexy preststuds...love em)
Larry Mc Murktry or something like that
Also by Larry.....what are you doin??? stop with the red wine Ali
Lonesome Cowboy no noo Lonesome Dove
Streets of Loredo (must read the Dove one first)

Joe's reccomendation: "Bloody Good Books"

Signing out ... too much joy to be had to be sitting in front of a PC

All the Books our Circle has read so far ...

2007-02-18T16:25:00.000-08:00

Jul-03 Stupid White Men Michael Moore
Aug-03 Oryx and Crake Margaret Atwood
Sep-03 White Teeth Zadie Smith
Oct-03 Ghost Children Sue Townsend
Nov-03 Lovely Bones Alice Sebold
Jan-04 Immortality Milan Kundera
Feb-04 Death of a River Guide Richard Flanagan
Mar-04 Zigzag St Nick Earl
Apr-04 Life of Pi Yann Martel
May-04 The Australian Fiancee Simone Lazaroo
Jun-04 Da Vinci Code Dan Brown
Jul-04 Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime Mark Haddon
Aug-04 The Devil & Miss Prym Paul Coelho
Sep-04 Vernon God Little ** DBC Pierre
Oct-04 Running with Scissors Augustin Burroughs
Nov-04 Dry Augustin Burroughs
Jan-05 Rhubarb Craig Silvey
Feb-05 Lines of Beauty Alan Hollingsworth
Mar-05 The Kite Runner ** Khaled Hosseini
Apr-05 The Birth of Venus Sarah Dunant
May-05 My Sister's Keeper Jodi Picoult
Jun-05 Kafka on the Shore Haruki Murakami
Jul-05 A little Russian book about a piano player
Aug-05 Bloodline of the Holy Grail Laurence Gardner
Sep-05 Enduring Love Ian McEwan
Oct-05 Disgrace JM Coetzee
Nov-05 Sunday Philosopher's Club Alexander McCall Smith
Feb-06 The God of Small Things ** Arundhati Roy
Mar-06 Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil John Berendt
Apr-06 The Secret Life of Bees Sue Monk Kidd
May-06 Shadow of the Wind Carlos Ruis Zapon
Jun-06 Ludmila's Broken English DBC Pierre
Jul-06 The Vintner's Luck Elizabeth Knox
Aug-06 You Gotta Have Balls Lily Brett
Sep-06 Lillian's Story Kate Grenville
Nov-06 Middlesex Jeffery Eugenides
Jan-07 Everything Is Illuminated Jonathon Safron Foer

rotto

2007-01-25T22:27:00.000-08:00

Been challenged to blog more by Lady Sultana. so here I am sitting in the visitors centre at Rottnest blogging on australia day. it's stinking hot, i'm pink from a morning at the basin. have tortured myself this holiday by readin a stephen king novel. he is gooood. unputtable downable good. gory horrible scary stuff but good writing nonetheless ...so i blame stephen on my sunburn cos i just had to finish it. reading one of those novels is like being trapped i just have to keep reading despite myself (and despite the 3 - yes 3 maybe 4 "good" books i bought and the downloaded copy of alliancing - but that's another story)

therre are australian flags EVERYWHERE here. our neighbours are wearing it, hanging it, eating off it...goodness knows whaat else in it. somehow it seeems a bit oh i dunno - fake? i'm scared of the americanism of all this flag showing. but more than anything its the consumerism of it all ... these people have actually been to shops and paid money for all this paraphernalia. bet they don't keep it for next year. it'll just be ditched and another set of aussi aussi aussi oi oi oi shit will reappear next year (not carefully found folded in the laundry cupboard, bought brand new from crazy clarks) scary thing is i nearly got sucked in ...stood in front of the aussie merchandise and thought oh that diggers hat covered in the australian flag would be cute (cute????) on mumbling boy.

gonna go all jack on you and slip into stream of consciousness now from mumbling boy to little miss sunshine - now wasn't that a great movie. loved it how they made the boy silent. that period of growing into adult hood is perplexing and confusing and sometimes scary. for those adolescents who manage to tackle it gracefully is awesome .... and perehpas silence is a way of doing that - just sitting back with all your convictions and watching and waiting. i wouldnt want it though cos the joy the real joy of growing up with kids or should i say growing them up??? are the gems they come out with the suprising moments when you realise they are not just your flesh and blood they are these magnificent beautiful people, and thats just what my non silent 15 yo did to me the other day. what was beautiful was through his words his spirit that he was i think born with (oh nature/nuruture lets do that another time) came shining through ... gentle, thoughtful, kind.

ok 10 minutes to go on my credit ...gosh gee there's a lot you can type in 26mins ... i knew i should have aske to exchange the $2 for the $1.

back to rotto ... stunning stunning stunning. spent the first morning at kingston bay right in front of the Uribes (??) wreck. I was completely alone! people pay thousands for what we get here for very little dosh indeed. they've renovated the bungalows!! pretty spiffy and they still feel like the old bungalows, just a lick of paint really .... so I'm laying on the beach at kingston ...not a sould, sounds of airplanes (yairs!! there's a boloody lot of them flying round here?? noise pollution galore) a few speed boats the sea licking the sand ... the limestone provides shade.... what more could you want?? maybe some watermelon or grapes ....

ok folks i'm signing off here ... got to thinkin sitting in front of a keyboard can't compare to lying on a beaach with a good book.

aloha!!

School Holidays

2006-12-04T03:23:00.000-08:00

Life is speeding by. Already it is Christmas holiday time. Our beautiful boy Gumby is now fully metal mouthed and I didn't even get to witness the torture. I was away for work and Grandma took him to the Orthodontist to get his braces fitted.

Can't believe he's already finished junior high school. The serious stuff starts next year. Not sure how serious he is about that ... not nearly serious as he is about socialising and keeping up with all the movies and his friends.
He's got a friend visiting at the moment oh how so lucky I am to have such good and interesting people in my life constantly.... bit scary thinking how time flies and what might happen when they really grow up and leave ... I'm loving the vibrancy of having young and interested and passionate people around.

Here's the kind of interesting stuff they talk about on MSN:
hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! hEYY! h

Turning the space

2006-11-03T06:09:00.000-08:00

I like a spiral - it invites you to look at the space between.

yeah but who was sam when he was at home?

2006-10-31T05:13:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Wikipedia I can give you this information....

I'm a year older than Samuel Taylor Coleridge was when he died of pneumonia...oops wrong Sam, that was the composer. He looks pretty interesting too....

Woah now I've found my Sam - he's the one on the right, the other one was far groovier looking (on the left)

Sam (the first) hung out with Bill Wordsworth and started the Romantic movement. The two famous poems that he wrote were the Kubla Khan and the Rime of the Ancient Mariner (that's the one with the albatross). The famous "water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink" was from that poem too.

The kubla Khan poem was apparently written in an opium haze.I believe that Alice in Wonderland was written in that way too. This is the poem that Xanadua winery is named after:

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

The wikipedia goes into how he grew up, sounds from them as though he admired his Dad - thought he was a good guy, but didn't like his mum much. Sounds like they didn't like him much either - they didn't let him come home from boarding school much.

Being a boarding school girl I can imagine how that would feel ... it was always so good to walk up the steps to the car park with my overnight bag in hand. The LTD's leather seats ready to take me to Chateau La Mer for the weekend with Mum, or a long drive home for a long weekend on the farm. Trips to Dad's were ususally by train which were pretty cool too, the old Australind with clicking joiner doorw where we would hang out in the fresh air. If Tracey was on the train we would stand there and smoke Salems, blowing the fumes out into the cool evening air, one of us with an eye out for the conductor who would bust us. I digress .... wasn't me who said all those incredible smart, sharp and on the noggin things, it was Sam!

Pantisocracy - sounds like the condition of stealing undies from clothes lines eh? Ah but no! It's the utopian society Sam wanted to set up.

Nothing is so contagious as enthusiasm

2006-10-31T04:34:00.000-08:00

Samuel Taylor Coleridge said or wrote all these things:

This is the one I would put on a name badge or a TShirt and wear every day:
Nothing is so contagious as enthusiasm.

pure of heart! Thou needest not ask of me what this strong music in the soul may be!

Our own heart, and not other men's opinions form our true honor.

Advice is like snow - the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind.

Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.

Friendship is a sheltering tree.

He is the best physician who is the most ingenious inspirer of hope.

If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a flower presented to him as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awake - Aye, what then?

A man may devote himself to death and destruction to save a nation; but no nation will devote itself to death and destruction to save mankind.

Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.

Every reform, however necessary, will by weak minds be carried to an excess, that itself will need reforming.

General principles... are to the facts as the root and sap of a tree are to its leaves.

Good and bad men are less than they seem.

Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends.

He is the best physician who is the most ingenious inspirer of hope.

I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is, prose = words in their best order; - poetry = the best words in the best order.

No one does anything from a single motive.

Talent, lying in the understanding, is often inherited; genius, being the action of reason or imagination, rarely or never.

The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions - the little, soon forgotten charities of a kiss or a smile, a kind look or heartfelt compliment.

http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/s/samuel_taylor_coleridge.html

Nigel's Visit - Contagious Enthusiasm

2006-10-31T04:28:00.000-08:00

So I'm a bit out of order ... I've posted Nancy's presentation before news about Nigel's visit. Alliteration going crazy here!

Nigel Paine used to head up the learning and development department at the BBC and I helped organise for him to come to Perth to do a few presentations. His energy and ability to create a sense of excitement for all the people was unbelievable. I was talking to someone in the office and we just couldn't figure out what his secret is! Magician!

Funniest thing about it was, when wandering around the office, people would come up to me and say thanks, presentation was great, feeling really inspired (yeah that was the general comment). I'd ask what specifically did you get from it and everyone had a different and very varied answer.

So I guess in trying to unravel the secret, it might be about presenting concepts that are really quite broad, but that are palatable and relevant to real live people - and I think he does that.

Nancy is not West Australian

2006-10-31T04:19:00.000-08:00

Not many Australians are called Nancy. We had a Nancy in primary school ... fascinating girl. So last week I went to a conference workshop thingy and Nancy White presented at it. I really liked her presentation. Was pretty bloody impressed too when she said she hung out (ok that's an exaggeration, she said she works with ...) Etienne Wenger.

Nancy is from WA - that's Washington not WA. Ok that's the title solved, but will you read on?

Unfortunately we didn't get to hear as much as I would have liked from her but she did a great job of packing a heap of information into a pretty short period.

She talked about facilitating online stuff, a couple of things really struck me as important:
Don't over committ, online communities and forums require you to take your whole self there. Just like in a real time community, it's really important to develop a sense of trust between members and it's pretty hard to trust someone who is only half there. This doesn't take into account lurkers though, who can and should hang out and well, lurk to their hearts content.

What else? Well communities of practice got a bit of an airing out. I think communities are still largely unrealised in their potential. Certainly in my organisation they are. Maybe I should do something about that!

Another bonus was seeing my old mates from my past work life, they're a good bunch! Was so refreshing to talk to such real and good people.

Ouch!

2006-10-30T05:09:00.000-08:00

I have ...Greater trochanteric bursitis...so my physio reckons anyhow. And it's really disrupted my detoxification program. Poor 'ole me, I should be up to fasting and enemas by now and there's not much point becuase I've had to adjust the program - while I've been good at eliminating all the banned substances (milk products, nicotene, alcohol, wheat products, deadly nightshades) - I've had a fair bit of panadol to get rid of the pain from teh trochanteric bursitis so have stopped taking the herbs and am just eating all the right stuff. At least its something.

It makes it almost impossible to sleep, I feel like I've got babies again. Pop off to bed early to get a bit of rest in before the hip cries out, get up and have a stretch ...oh I'm bored already describing this.

The treatment sucks, nothing as glamourous as the leather gear you get strapped up in when you go in for neck treatment, or when you have to put your body in contortions so he can twist and turn you til you hear the big cracking noises. No, this is seriously painful, he rubs the heel of his hand into the muscle of my thigh and pushes really hard so it really really really hurts! (I did get to lie around and read the Cleo for half and hour beforehand while he warmed up the muscle with the electric sucker cap things on though). Oh, the classic comment of the day when telling me about how the thigh muscle causes the issue by rubbing against the hip bursar because the muscle is tight, "see your muscle is rock hard!"And I though rock hard muscles were good!

So ..there's my drama.

But here's the best bit ......

8 Days no cigarettes...yay double triple quadruple yay.

Resonations

2006-10-04T20:27:00.000-07:00

I remember sitting on the verhanda at a friend's place at sunset. They have an old weatherboard house that sits almost on the ocean at Cottlesloe. My friend Heidi had recently died in a car crash, my two brothers were in the same car. The sun was setting and great orange clouds were swooshing across the sky. In that moment the world was all right and it was just because those clouds were moving at just the right pace and shining just the right tone of orange. I've carried a slip of paper with me for twenty years now, it was a transcription of something she said to me, a quote from Bhagwhan (!) "Sometimes you have to go away and just be".

Talking to a girlfriend who raised up her kids with me, we were talking about those moments when everything seems to align and you sense a wholeness. We talked about when that happens and you can kinda look and see all the manifestations of yourself. We compared it to looking a the Terracotta army, an assemblage of iconic figures all massed in cave. (imagine how the farmers felt when they found them) Not easy, but not uncommon to be able to view these masks or identities or selves that you have been or are currently in the mode of, much more difficult and rewarding and sometimes shocking when you get a glimpse of a figure that is strange or frightening or even glorious!

Dunny Paper

2006-10-01T03:02:00.000-07:00

Purex dunny paper gives my gal a headache ... what on earth do they put in the scented loo paper? Who needs it anyway. Maybe they should give away a free box of matches instead - works better I reckon, at least a match extinguishes the smell. Scented paper doesn't reallly cut it, just causes an awful merging.

What was it like to be 8?

2006-08-11T00:03:00.000-07:00

When I was eight I lived in Jerramungup on a farm about 4 miles from town on Highway Number 1. We lived opposite the wheat bin. Everyday I'd walk or ride my bike to the end of the driveway and wait on the Highway for the school bus to come. Depending on what roster it was, it might take us 5 minutes to go the 4 miles to town or an hour and a half. See, the bus would take it turns doing a big round trip to all the farmers past Needilup out the back and around into town. The late bus was best because it had already picked up all the other kids first and we could just hop on for 10 or 15 minutes. There was always a seat because one of the big girls looked out for me, her name was Judith I think, she was girl guide too.

While we were waiting at the highway, my big brother used to make sure I stood way back from the road when the big trucks full of wheat and other stuff came flying by. He said that, "I'd get sucked under if I stood too close." He was probably right and I didn't doubt he was right then!

Even getting to the road was a challenge. Either we road our bikes, in spring I used to wear the motorbike helmet and carry a stick in one had and ride with the other because the Magpies would swoop us as we came flying down the hill through the creek. Sometimes we walked home through the paddock which took us through - or very close to the pig paddock. A big old mean black sow lived in there and she'd eat you alive if you went in there. Sometimes Big Bro would sprint across just for a dare. He was fast and he was brave.

Our house was made out of absestos. My room was on the side nearest where the electricity generator was so if I went to bed before it was turned off (which I normally had to because Mum and Dad were pretty strict on bedtimes) I could hear this thump gorowl noise of the engine turning turning. For years I thought I had dodgy hearing but I think it was just that noise in my ears.

When I was eight one of my jobs was to feed the chooks. They were housed in a big yard out the back near the mallee root pile. I had to get the pollard from the laundry and mix it up with water into a porridy paste and take it out to them. We used to have a scary rooster that would perch on a beam near the gate so you'd have to look out for him before you went in.

Before I went to bed at night I used to have a cuddle on my Dad's knee. He had his own special chair. We had an open fire that Dad had fixed up, on the hearth there would always be a poker and a giant set of bellows that were really good for getting the fire going. When I'd snuggle on Dad's knee I could really smell the pipe smoke on him. His hands were giant and they'd fit across my back. He used to call me sugar plum fairy.

When I was eight I used to ride a giant bike sometimes just for fun. I'd have to climb onto the bike from the verhanda to even get on! Then when I rode it I had to stand up on each peddle without ever sitting down. I couldn't even reach the saddle!

When I was eight I really really wanted a pony.

When I was eight a girl at school used to bully me. My Dad noticed how sad I was acting so he asked me about it, and I told him what was happening. Now Dad would usually only say stuff like, "well you know you're the good person here." or "just ignore them, they're not worth it." He would never never never let us ever hit other kids, or even insult them. Never! But he could see I'd tried everything and he told me I should just "kick her in the shins!" I was so shocked! Just thinking about what Dad had said gave me the courage to really ignore this girl and I made some super friends who stuck by me and we were able to play at recess without being bothered by her.

When I was eight my eldest brother was fourteen and he was at a boarding school because there was no highschool in the town where we lived. He was my hero and I missed him terribly. I remember waiting for hours near the front door sitting near the bookshelf on the round long pile carpet. When I heard the car I rushed up to the doorway to see him. He was tall and lanky and I loved it when people said I looked just like him.

I started playing netball when I was eight. I didn't think I was very good at it, but my Mum used to practice with me and come and watch me play. She used to tell me all the good things I'd done in that game and when we threw the ball at home she'd throw the ball a bit higher or wider each time. Later, in highschool I played in the highest grade of netball there was in our school. I still play netball and I love it!

Books to Movies

2006-08-10T05:18:00.000-07:00

What books have translated successfully to movies? Maybe Harry Potter? My fave all time book, Bliss, was a fabulous movie. I vote that a successful movie, but I kind of see it as a separate enitity to the book.

Spotty

2006-08-10T05:00:00.000-07:00

Gorgeous girl has chicken pox. So... that means when Computerboy got them when he was less than 2 and we were living in that oh so quaint groupie in Rosa Brook (with wysteria climbing one side of the enclosed verhanda with glass louvres north and west facing and a beautifully scented white azalea near the front steps) ah take a breath ..... where was I? Computerboy with chicken pox and me still figuring out how to be a mum lifting up Gorgeous girls ankles with one deft movement to change her cloth nappy (yes! remember them flapping on the breeze and that satisfaction of having them all done, a dozen or so tiny white sails all hooked up corner to corner drying in the sunhine and breeze) and thinking ....yeah, there's the chicken pox spots. BUT no! turns out was nappy rash after all. Because here she is ... 12 years later and covered in spots! Doc says maybe she did have a mild case but was protected by having been breast fed.

Remember that? Holding the baby in your lap or even walking around the kitchen and that little thing, that little beautiful thing you made clamped onto you getting all the nourishment they need? Remember gazing down and seeing soft little cheeks filling and rosy mouths and faces concentrating after a long long sleep trying to fill up.

Remember sneaking in to see if they were still alive because they'd slept so long?

Remember watching the fast crawl? where you wonder how such a small thing could move so fast and have so much joy. simple.

I played with little Nephew a while back. he's crawling and I got down and crawled along the hallway with him playing hide and seek. they don't just smile do they? their whole faces light up, they laugh and express such - oh the english language is letting me down, or I don't have a good enough grasp - because I'm looking for a word that says joy, wonder, happiness, a sense of joining in and being sucked into this moment now that little crawling babies have. you are the world for the moment. this moment is the world now.

Power Art

2006-07-17T06:41:00.000-07:00

Big highlight of Tioman was spending a day painting a pic for my mum! Gawsh, dear Mum is featuring in this blog. You know, my Grandma, my Mum's Mum, died when I was little, really little, I was not more than two and I wonder how my Mum did it. I so appreciate her in my life, the advice and the support and the frienship. How sappy! But so true!

Painting a picture for my Mum sent me reeling back in time and made me feel like a kid again. Seeing my kids make art again was special too. When we lived in a rental in Margaret River I gave my kids powder paint mixed with detergent so they could paint the glass sliding doors. Seeing the works of art they created at Power Batik was fantastic. They've both got that access and freedom to paint and draw and make what they want. Oh yeah, it's all down to the powder paint mixed with detergent for the glass doors. Just see how I made that bit about my Mum to be about me... yeah it's all about ME!

Well no, it's also about Ricky and Michelle .... and yes, even the German, Andy.

Ricky Power, the Batik man with a love of Australian music has to feature centre stage, such a gentle, charismatic, generous and welcoming man. His open art house, yes truly open, to the skies and the sea and the power of inspiration sits just metres from the sea and the sunsets. Gangajang and Cold Chisel and Chrissy Amphlet keep you company while you create your own piece of Batik art. We flicked through his albums detailing other tourists contributions - saw some beauties - dedications to English Football teams, images from ancient history, hibiscus, love hearts, geckos, fairies - you name it - us tourists have created it.

And what a bonus to have the gorgeous Michelle, the picture of relaxation perched on her verhanda only moving to dowse down in the outdoor shower occasionally. Open heart.....and what a host, if she can throw a tiny party in Tioman like she did I can't imagine what her home parties are like!

So here we were the next punters ready to create.... what was created was a great friendship... oh and some great art of course!

This here on the left is Andy the German sucking in all those big jugs of beer that he has drunk in his lifetime.

(Thanks Michelle for the pics)

2006-07-16T04:39:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, a major factor in quelling my aversion to coming back to "cold" Perth was the thought that Mum had been in my house cleaning and organising my cupboards! I held onto the thought that coming home would be like a holiday in itself, discovering where she'd put what in the newly organised and cleaned cupboards. I LOVE MY MUM! And her Ian who picked us up from the airport and ferried us home to a home cooked meal and chilled white wine. Aww shucks, such a spoiled girl I am.

Fantastic sitting in the back of the car on the way home hearing the kids jostle for conversation space about the holiday. This, after having asked them, "well how did you enjoy the holiday?" to their answer, "oh....ok". yeah...arriving home in clean. bright, and really home, Perth must have shocked some value out of the holiday.

G's List

2006-06-25T18:08:00.000-07:00

Here's a list of G's books to read:
Gilead, Marilynne Robinson
Portnoy's Complaint, Phillip Roth
Everyman, Phillip Roth
Merry Go Round in the Sea, same author as Tourmaline ...oops should know this, should google it ....
The Elizabeth Costello book
Disgrace, Coetzee

2006-06-22T04:03:00.000-07:00

I have the most gorgeous outstanding daughter. When I was younger, Mum used to talk about people with 'spunk' and it's in her definition that my grl has 'spunk', that enery and vivaciousness for living life. She has dedication to the cause of living life. We miss her 'round the house, because as a 12 year old turning 13, her priorities are definately outside of our realm now. I've met the gang though and they are GREAT, amazing how such a like minded group of people can come togehter. I'd be envious if I didn't feel as though I'm getting the same thing in life at the moment. Yep I LOVE my job! And it's mainly because of the people I work with.

I met this woman at work because ... oh this is going to sound weird ...let me start at the beginning...

But let's go for an 'ad break' - you need to know what's going on right now. Big Brother is playing in the background and the 2 big kids are rolling around on our newly inherited fold out YELLOW lounge chair (more about our scored inheritences in another post) They are, again, making a lot of noise, kind of antagonistic love. Argy bargy stuff. Threats of smelly farts are abounding, great weapon against new couch colonisation.

I started at my job about 18 months ago, not knowing a soul. Every time I had to go to the dunny, I walked past this funny open planned area where two fantastic women worked. Lucky I'm good at recognising fantasticness in people! So, every time I walked past, I'd say hi! And that's how I made my first friends. It wasn't long before the organisation made the decision that this particular location in our new building had some dodgy feng shui and moved the fantastic women elsewhere. But not soon enough for me to have made my first and fabulous friendship in this organisation.

Off to reading circle tonight. I've forgotton why I didn't like Ludmilla...luckily I've got my earlier post to refer to.

Noisy

2006-06-17T04:18:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting at home with the TV blaring, it's that awful "funniest home videos" complete with a studio audience and glam big headed girl. The girls are shrieking in the kitchen, their laughing is eclipsing the popping corn. Last time I saw the bag of pop corn it was on L's head while she was walking 'round the house.

I spent three hours in the car today, dropping kids at various places - work, fun and a round trip back again. Lucky I like driving.

Oh yeah ...books... I've just read 'The Sportswriter", am onto a Patrick White novel and have the lurid pink cover of "Feminist Chauvinist Pigs" glaring at me.

2006-06-04T03:56:00.000-07:00

Ludmilla, Ludmilla, Ludmilla .... not sure I want to say more than that about this. A gritty story with so much historical overtone that the story of the people - which I guess was DBC's way of linking the personal with the polical - successfully bored me to tears. I didn't care about the separated freaks. I didn't care about the beautiful Ludmilla. Perhaps the only character I cared about was the little sister.

I usually enjoy a book which gives me an insight into a political or historical situation. In this case I became irritated by the scratchy characters and the try hard out there character creation. What depth was there anway to the political situation. So what was I left with? Empty characters, none of the Vernon God Little gritty dialogue, nada, nothing.

Don't bother reading it.