Squibblog

new eyes

Nell and I spent this morning at the Australian Museum with our overseas friends. Because we're members we go there often, but we always go to exactly the same places in exactly the same order. It was a tad unsettling for Nell to have to concede that our guests might want to dictate how we moved around the place.

It was eye opening for me because we saw bits of the new Gondwana exhibit (been open for at least 6 months now) that we've never ventured into before. Nell has never wanted to go there, but there were great interractive exhibits, we discovered where the baby crocodiles had gone to and we discovered that little L, who is not yet two, can correctly identify and name a triceratops. Which was an eye-opener in itself!

It was incredibly hot here today, so a total change from the wintry weather last week. Despite melting in the heat in the train on the way home (Nell fell asleep and I had to carry her the first 100 metres from the train which makes me realise just how heavy she is getting), I spent the afternoon filling the last of our garden beds with organic soil, chicken manure and potting mix. Hopefully it will be ready for me to plant the bean seedlings I rescued from a slow death by dehydration at Bunnings yesterday.

This is our absolutely perfect home grown brocili which we ate for dinner. And very virtuous I felt about it too.

friends over two generations

I'm just recovering from a packed weekend. Friday night pouring over house reno plans with dear friends, Saturday morning was the usual blur of ballet and cricket and running around that had to be done.

Saturday afternoon, though, things changed pace for me. I caught a flight to Canberra to see an old friend who recently had her second son. It was a chance for me to spend some quiet time with her, something we didn't get much of a chance to do even when we both lived in Sydney and worked at the same firm! It was a quiet afternoon full of cups of tea, sticky buns and long chats. I got to hold her newborn baby, hear about her reactions to moving back to her home town, but more astounding perhaps was to spend time with her older son, R.

When they left Sydney R was not yet 2 and couldn't speak. Now he can question, explain and hypothesize with the best of them. After a little period of warming up, R showed me around his room, invited me to kick a ball around the backyard with him and engaged in a few games of find the dinosaur. Building a relationship with K's son was an unexpected delight of the trip.

Today we ventured out to Bronte beach to catch up with another old friend and his two sons, who live in London. While D was occupied with his many other guests (it was a bit picnic and we really didn't know many people), I had a chance to sit down and get to know his sons aged 4 and 2. Again, it was the unexpected delight of spending time getting to know kids who have so much of their own personality, but I certainly caught glimpses of the influence of their parents. I was reminded again of why I love my friends, and how that love trickles down to their children as well.

still here, but words are going elsewhere

With all my crazy essay writing, I was planning to devote a little creative energy to Squibblog this week. Alas I got a short deadline paying job that needs all my writerly energy. Which is a bugger because I have also been experimenting with Twitter (see my side bar with my twitter updates running) and I want to write about new media and continuous partial attention.

So much to say, so little computer time in which to say it.

But soon, soon, I will have more capacity.

remembering why

Sometimes I get the urge to blog and I have nothing to say. But when I read other people's stories, little everyday things, I remember why I think blogging is a revolution. Lately I have really being enjoying London calling which is the story of a Sydney couple and their son who have moved to London for six months. Susan, who writes the blog, manages to post with photos almost every day, giving us insights into the ins and outs of English life. Reading her little tidbits about what she's done on the weekend reminds me that people are out there having adventures and that makes me feel a little happier.

show us your asana

October marks eleven years since I first started practising yoga. I wouldn't say I am particularly stronger or more flexible than I was eleven years ago, but nor am I weaker or less flexible. And there have been two pregnancies in that time.

While I still struggle to do a handstand, the one thing I have managed to achieve in all those years of concerted effort is the ability to focus solely on the very thing I am doing for, well, minutes at a time. It's pretty rare to have only one thought in my head for that long and I can only really achieve it when I am doing something like balancing on one leg - something that is possible but not easy - and of course I don't notice I've had a blank mind until that moment is over.

But I get it and it leaves me calmer than anything else I do in my life. And I did it tonight and feel better for it.

f is for

The main problem with being a media junkie is that there are days when your stream of constant stimulation is dominated by something that is so depressing you don't want to read it.

Today at least two of the four opinion pieces in the SMH were devoted to Fallout from the Financial crisis. Will we all end up on the streets? Is the world going to hell in a hand basket because young people these days aren't satisfied with anything but a four-bedroom-two-bathroom-double-garage-home with plasma TV? Will this Depression lead to a rise in Fascism?

Are these questions anyone really wants to answer today?

I am going to bury myself in images of people dying from the bubonic plague. For a little light relief.

bursting into life

Every time that restless 'I've been reading too much' feeling comes over me, I head out to the garden for a little stretch of weeding and planting. It's a pity I am so busy because there is so much to do, with everything sprouting, twisting and climbing at the same time. Including the clover which almost swallowed up the front herb garden.

Lettuces are ready to pick, tomatoes are flowering, jasmine opened yesterday, strawberries are forming their little green fuzzy fruit. Hopefully we'll get a crop before the scorching weather sets in and everything runs to seed.

gonfalon

 This is the image I am writing about for my essay this semester. It is a ritual banner which was carried in penitential processions through the town of Perugia (in Umbria). It was painted in 1464 and carried at least annually for 300 years, now it lives in its own chapel. There are so many fascinating things about this image, but look right at the bottom and you'll see a pile of bodies being lorded over by the grim reaper. This banner was painted about 100 years after The Black Death, at a time when outbreaks of bubonic plague were a regular occurence in Europe.

heat wave in October

There is always one day in October when the temperature reaches into the 30s and today is such a day. No longer springy spring weather, now just draining heat.

Fortunately I was working today, so most of it was spent indoors but I had some running around to do this afternoon - dropping off stuff, picking up stuff, returning library books, retrieving children, getting hair cuts. No amount of water seems to have revived me when I got home - I am just wilting.

Update: tomorrow it's going to be 35

lemonade stand

Yesterday Isaac was at AFL camp so Nell and I had the morning to ourselves. We linked up with a friend up the street who was going to see a play of Milli, Jack and the Dancing Cat. We got last minute tickets, jumped on a bus (which we ran to catch) managed to squeeze in a coffee and then launched into the theatre.

Nell thought the cat was very funny, mostly because he danced with his tongue out and his tail was very springy. She was also impressed with the theatre seats, spot lights and the magic of buildings that can turn around and be opened up for the audience to see.

Then we trooped home, taking up the backseat of the bus (there were two adults and three girls, all of whom attend the same preschool) with the girls keeping the bus patrons entertained with renditions of songs about black cats and sparkling stars.

As we got back to our neighbourhood, some local kids had set up a lemonade stand on our street. After bargaining them down from 80 cents to 50 cents for a very small glass of homemade lemonade, Teresa and the girls and I partook of their delicious homemade wares. From their own lemon tree.

It was a magical morning of school holidays, spring, kids and sweet drinks.