Early one morning right before Christmas, I awoke to the sound of angels singing. I stayed quiet for a few minutes, searching the darkness for possibilities and letting my eyes adjust to the immediate surrounds.
“Nothing here to explain the sound,” I thought to myself, and began to settle back toward sleep. Then I heard it again. The sound of angels singing. Without further ado, and as quiet as a mouse, I climbed out of bed and went to the window.
Down below in the street, all was calm, all was bright, all was snowy, all was white. The only things on the sidewalk were tiny critter prints, and there was a gentle fog that barely hid the streetlights and neighbourhood decorations. Nothing out of the ordinary for this time of year.
I was about to give up and go back to bed when a car came into view. Now, I knew Santa usually arrived by sleigh, and even if he had changed his mode of transportation, he was a tad early, so this was clearly someone else. Confident that I would not be seen from my perch, I peered through the frosted pane and watched and listened for what I expected would come.
The car stopped right in front of our house, and a moment later, a man climbed out the driver’s side. Although inside the car was probably warm and outside probably not, he left his door slightly ajar, allowing the most beautiful sound to fill the air. “Oh, Holy Night.”
With our morning paper in hand, he walked all the way to our door and back again, accompanied by the sound of angels singing. When he climbed into his car and closed the door, I could still hear, not the angels, but him finishing off the chorus in the safety and solitude of his own company.
The silence that followed gave me pause for consideration.
I watched a lone squirrel scamper across the neighbour’s snowy drive, and then looked around our room, taking note of everything cosy and warm.
I couldn’t help but think how lucky we are to have a roof over our heads, protecting us from the cold, in a country where someone brings you a paper every morning. I felt truly blessed.
Like a cheeky Cheshire cat, I felt a yawn, a stretch, and then a grin coming on. I looked once more outside our window. Our wintry neck of the woods was still mostly fast asleep, but the sun would soon be up, the snow would stop, the moon would disappear along with the fog, and morning would stir us into our day.
I climbed into bed, and as I laid my head on the pillow, I heard a familiar sound — “Oh, Holy Night” — but it was neither the angels nor the newspaper carrier I heard singing. It was me. And with that realisation, I lulled myself off to sleep as winter waited patiently outside.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Why I love winter
In case you were wondering ....
It 'fit's in with my lifestyle. Plenty of opportunity to shovel and sweep, scrape the windscreens, walk in a wonderland, and stave off the results of too much eating, slothing and lounging.
It makes me feel more charitable. I think of those who find it more difficult to navigate the ice and the snow and the very chilly conditions. I think I'm actually nicer to people this time of year, and that sets the tone for the rest of the year.
It cleans everything up. Junk and rubbish left lying around, doggie poo that owners won't clean up, derelict in all its multiple forms, and people who should have curfews are somehow invisible, or white, and we forget about them - for a while, at least.
The clothes are amazing! Stylish coats, colourful toques, toasty-warm gloves, gorgeous boots, long comfy scarves, thick jumpers (sweaters), long skirts and fabulous pants. I'd wear them all year round if I could.
There's always the chance of a snow day. I've only ever been snowed-in once - and I chose to go outside to video and photograph the blizzard. Duh! Pining for a day or three when I can stay inside and do nothing except read, watch and relax.
Family back home think I'm nuts - but now they have a new reason. Well, it is hard for them to consider minus 30, or indeed minus anything, as fun and enjoyable when they are used to plus double digits for most of their year.
It makes me less homesick. It's the only season I don't experience back home, unless I head to the Snowy Mountains in August, so I know I am away from family and friends, and I'm somehow okay with that. Not so much in spring, summer and fall.
If there's enough of it often enough, then re-meeting neighbours in the spring is a wonderful surprise! Enough said.
It means Christmas is either coming or going. Personally, I like both. The anticipation and the festivities are thrilling, the opportunity to share good wishes with family and friends here and there is heartwarming, and the lamb roast on Christmas day is worth surviving all that rush. On the other side, the slower pace is appreciated, the return to work is welcome 'cause I got some interesting stuff on the go and am keen to get back to it, and the knowledge that there are at least three months of winter to go is exciting and exhilarating.
I get to say thanks ... to each and every one of you for so many reasons. Being my friend, my family, my colleague, my neighbour, my mentor, my partner, my sounding board, my whatever I need when I need it. You for me, and me for you. It works both ways, you know.
And with that, I wish a very merry Christmas to you and yours, safe travels wherever you may go, and all the very best for the new year.
And here's to winter in all its glory for as long as it deems us worthy of its blessings!
It 'fit's in with my lifestyle. Plenty of opportunity to shovel and sweep, scrape the windscreens, walk in a wonderland, and stave off the results of too much eating, slothing and lounging.
It makes me feel more charitable. I think of those who find it more difficult to navigate the ice and the snow and the very chilly conditions. I think I'm actually nicer to people this time of year, and that sets the tone for the rest of the year.
It cleans everything up. Junk and rubbish left lying around, doggie poo that owners won't clean up, derelict in all its multiple forms, and people who should have curfews are somehow invisible, or white, and we forget about them - for a while, at least.
The clothes are amazing! Stylish coats, colourful toques, toasty-warm gloves, gorgeous boots, long comfy scarves, thick jumpers (sweaters), long skirts and fabulous pants. I'd wear them all year round if I could.
There's always the chance of a snow day. I've only ever been snowed-in once - and I chose to go outside to video and photograph the blizzard. Duh! Pining for a day or three when I can stay inside and do nothing except read, watch and relax.
Family back home think I'm nuts - but now they have a new reason. Well, it is hard for them to consider minus 30, or indeed minus anything, as fun and enjoyable when they are used to plus double digits for most of their year.
It makes me less homesick. It's the only season I don't experience back home, unless I head to the Snowy Mountains in August, so I know I am away from family and friends, and I'm somehow okay with that. Not so much in spring, summer and fall.
If there's enough of it often enough, then re-meeting neighbours in the spring is a wonderful surprise! Enough said.
It means Christmas is either coming or going. Personally, I like both. The anticipation and the festivities are thrilling, the opportunity to share good wishes with family and friends here and there is heartwarming, and the lamb roast on Christmas day is worth surviving all that rush. On the other side, the slower pace is appreciated, the return to work is welcome 'cause I got some interesting stuff on the go and am keen to get back to it, and the knowledge that there are at least three months of winter to go is exciting and exhilarating.
I get to say thanks ... to each and every one of you for so many reasons. Being my friend, my family, my colleague, my neighbour, my mentor, my partner, my sounding board, my whatever I need when I need it. You for me, and me for you. It works both ways, you know.
And with that, I wish a very merry Christmas to you and yours, safe travels wherever you may go, and all the very best for the new year.
And here's to winter in all its glory for as long as it deems us worthy of its blessings!
Friday, December 16, 2011
Going off the rails
The past week has been interesting, to say the least. Busy, busy, busy, and we are still nine days out from Christmas. My shopping is essentially done and the lamb roast is still a mere temptation, but my rule of no late mid-week nights, or only one if absolutely necessary, has proved to be my undoing and sent me completely off the rails.
No need to go through each day, but suffice to say it got out of control on Monday and went downhill from there. Too many meetings, too many appointments, and three very late nights that left me craving for anonymity and my "no" voice.
It wasn't so much the "do" list that did me in, but the accompanying, or perhaps more exactly, the resulting failure to eat - properly, and in some cases, at all.
Before I go any further, let's be clear. I'm not a fan of diets, and I eat lots of chocolate, love desserts, and consume coffee on a regular basis. But, I have made a concerted effort of late to eat more fruit and veggies, and drink more water and tea. Yeah, I know; sounds boring already.
Anyway, as the saying goes, you don't miss something until you go without ... or, whatever. And I have to say that living on fries, lattes and Maltesers - not all at once, but the easiest fast-food options available at the time - made me miss oranges, apples and blueberry tea more than I could have imagined.
So, today, being a Friday free of anything on my schedule, saw me back on the rails - especially after I caught up on some of that long-lost sleep. And I feel quite rejuvenated, inspired even, and happy to be missing that interim menu of little substance and only relatively short-term joy.
It's okay to take a different track every now and then, just as long as there's a plan for recovery. For my money, the best thing about going off the rails is living to tell the tale and then getting back on. In fact, I think it should be a periodic requirement - a gift that allows us to consider ourselves with as little judgement as possible.
Can't want to see what the silly season brings and how I navigate my way through it. I have high hopes for success, as long as no one gives me fries, lattes or Maltesers.
It is too early to cook up that lamb roast, honey?
No need to go through each day, but suffice to say it got out of control on Monday and went downhill from there. Too many meetings, too many appointments, and three very late nights that left me craving for anonymity and my "no" voice.
It wasn't so much the "do" list that did me in, but the accompanying, or perhaps more exactly, the resulting failure to eat - properly, and in some cases, at all.
Before I go any further, let's be clear. I'm not a fan of diets, and I eat lots of chocolate, love desserts, and consume coffee on a regular basis. But, I have made a concerted effort of late to eat more fruit and veggies, and drink more water and tea. Yeah, I know; sounds boring already.
Anyway, as the saying goes, you don't miss something until you go without ... or, whatever. And I have to say that living on fries, lattes and Maltesers - not all at once, but the easiest fast-food options available at the time - made me miss oranges, apples and blueberry tea more than I could have imagined.
So, today, being a Friday free of anything on my schedule, saw me back on the rails - especially after I caught up on some of that long-lost sleep. And I feel quite rejuvenated, inspired even, and happy to be missing that interim menu of little substance and only relatively short-term joy.
It's okay to take a different track every now and then, just as long as there's a plan for recovery. For my money, the best thing about going off the rails is living to tell the tale and then getting back on. In fact, I think it should be a periodic requirement - a gift that allows us to consider ourselves with as little judgement as possible.
Can't want to see what the silly season brings and how I navigate my way through it. I have high hopes for success, as long as no one gives me fries, lattes or Maltesers.
It is too early to cook up that lamb roast, honey?
Friday, December 2, 2011
Why I eat my lunch out of a saucepan
For starters, let's confirm a few things. It's porridge, or more precisely, porridge with banana. And yes, it is lunch, not breakfast, although, to be honest, I could eat porridge any time of the day or night, especially if it has banana in it. And not simply on the top, but cooked right along with the porridge. Got that idea while dining at Stella's in Winnipeg - they used to put the banana on the side, but now it's cooked in and, I have to say, is stunningly delicious!
But I digress.
So, why do I eat my lunch out of a saucepan?
1. Easy peasy. Thirty seconds to gather tools and ingredients, three minutes to cook. And if I can do it, anyone can.
2. Less washing up. The saucepan is the only item of note, other than the measuring spoon (which technically only needs to be rinsed) and the eating spoon (which definitely needs to be scrubbed clean for the benefit of future users).
3. Consistent temperature. If you pour porridge from a warm saucepan into a cold bowl, you end up with 'Mama Bear temperature' porridge. And if it's not good enough for Goldilocks, it's not good enough for me. This method guarantees Baby Bear temperature.
4. Time on a budget. Quick and easy to go from stove top to couch, which is where I usually eat my lunch.
5. Budget on a budget. Banana $0.40, milk $0.12, porridge $0.07, water $0.01, satisfaction of a meal well cooked ... priceless!
6. Left hand knows what the right hand is doing. The left hand always holds the saucepan handle, leaving the right hand to operate the stirring spoon, the remote, and the eating spoon - in whatever order is required.
7. Virtually spill proof. Medium-size saucepan, enough porridge for one. So unless I trip on the way in, there is no danger of spillage en route from kitchen to living room. However, from saucepan to mouth is a different matter entirely.
8. High "Mmmm!" factor. Nothing more needs to be said - or added.
No, I'm not the only person in the world who eats out of a saucepan, nor the only one in our house. But I can tell you that once you go down that proverbial road, you, too, will be hooked on the perfect combination of fast, easy, cheap and delicious.
And that, my friends, is why I eat my lunch out of a saucepan.
But I digress.
So, why do I eat my lunch out of a saucepan?
1. Easy peasy. Thirty seconds to gather tools and ingredients, three minutes to cook. And if I can do it, anyone can.
2. Less washing up. The saucepan is the only item of note, other than the measuring spoon (which technically only needs to be rinsed) and the eating spoon (which definitely needs to be scrubbed clean for the benefit of future users).
3. Consistent temperature. If you pour porridge from a warm saucepan into a cold bowl, you end up with 'Mama Bear temperature' porridge. And if it's not good enough for Goldilocks, it's not good enough for me. This method guarantees Baby Bear temperature.
4. Time on a budget. Quick and easy to go from stove top to couch, which is where I usually eat my lunch.
5. Budget on a budget. Banana $0.40, milk $0.12, porridge $0.07, water $0.01, satisfaction of a meal well cooked ... priceless!
6. Left hand knows what the right hand is doing. The left hand always holds the saucepan handle, leaving the right hand to operate the stirring spoon, the remote, and the eating spoon - in whatever order is required.
7. Virtually spill proof. Medium-size saucepan, enough porridge for one. So unless I trip on the way in, there is no danger of spillage en route from kitchen to living room. However, from saucepan to mouth is a different matter entirely.
8. High "Mmmm!" factor. Nothing more needs to be said - or added.
No, I'm not the only person in the world who eats out of a saucepan, nor the only one in our house. But I can tell you that once you go down that proverbial road, you, too, will be hooked on the perfect combination of fast, easy, cheap and delicious.
And that, my friends, is why I eat my lunch out of a saucepan.
Monday, August 8, 2011
On the shelf
Occasionally I notice in the paper important people talking about the books they are currently reading. I think I'm important, although obviously not as well known as the people being asked. So, I decided to start up my own occasional post about books I am reading and why.
At this moment, I am juggling two books. The first is Bill Bryson's "I'm a Stranger Here Myself - Notes on Returning to America After 20 Years Away". Interesting that it was originally titled "Notes from a Big Country" when it was released in Britain.
Published in 1998, the book is essentially a collection of articles written for The Mail on Sunday's Night and Day supplement during the 1990s, and discusses Bryson's views on relocating to Hanover, New Hampshire, after spending two decades in Britain.
Most people refer to Bryson as a "travel writer". Not such a surprise given his other books, most of which involve travelling in various places. Nevertheless, I prefer to think of him as a real-life revealists - someone who notices the odd and the entertaining and shares it with us in a very revealing way.
My fascination with Bryson began many years ago when I was asked to review "In a Sunburned Country" for the local paper. His humour, wonder and unflagging curiosity caught me off guard, and revealed an Australia that was simultaneously familiar and foreign to me - surprising, given that I lived there for 35 years!
When I came across this current title for a pittance in a discount bookstore, I simply had to find out if all his writing would get me laughing, or only the one about my homeland. Yep, Bryson is one funny guy!
The other book on my shelf is a Aussie read called "Stiff". A fast-paced, fresh and funny murder thriller, Shane Maloney's debut novel "... pokes fun at almost everything, revelling in words that showcase ludicrous events and behaviour" (Library Journal). Main character Murray Whelan's wry social commentaries and ironic observations are natural and hilarious, and surprisingly normal, given everything that's going on.
I have to admit that the only reason I picked up this book is because I saw the fabulously brilliant David Wenham on the front cover. Seems two of Maloney's books have been turned into major telemovies, with Wenham in the lead role. Whatever my reasons, I'm so glad I did because so far, this book is a rollicking ride!
By the way, I'd like to take a moment here to thank Maloney for his "rich, ridiculous and tawdry" voice (Melbourne Age), which kept me riveted and sustained, and distracted me from total boredom during several hours recently spent in a walk-in clinic.
Not sure what I'll read when these two are done, but "Let the Right One In" by Swedish author John Ajvide Lindqvist definitely looks promising, and Maloney's second book "The Brush Off" is a must.
Anyway, that's what I'm reading, in case anyone's wondering.
At this moment, I am juggling two books. The first is Bill Bryson's "I'm a Stranger Here Myself - Notes on Returning to America After 20 Years Away". Interesting that it was originally titled "Notes from a Big Country" when it was released in Britain.
Published in 1998, the book is essentially a collection of articles written for The Mail on Sunday's Night and Day supplement during the 1990s, and discusses Bryson's views on relocating to Hanover, New Hampshire, after spending two decades in Britain.
Most people refer to Bryson as a "travel writer". Not such a surprise given his other books, most of which involve travelling in various places. Nevertheless, I prefer to think of him as a real-life revealists - someone who notices the odd and the entertaining and shares it with us in a very revealing way.
My fascination with Bryson began many years ago when I was asked to review "In a Sunburned Country" for the local paper. His humour, wonder and unflagging curiosity caught me off guard, and revealed an Australia that was simultaneously familiar and foreign to me - surprising, given that I lived there for 35 years!
When I came across this current title for a pittance in a discount bookstore, I simply had to find out if all his writing would get me laughing, or only the one about my homeland. Yep, Bryson is one funny guy!
The other book on my shelf is a Aussie read called "Stiff". A fast-paced, fresh and funny murder thriller, Shane Maloney's debut novel "... pokes fun at almost everything, revelling in words that showcase ludicrous events and behaviour" (Library Journal). Main character Murray Whelan's wry social commentaries and ironic observations are natural and hilarious, and surprisingly normal, given everything that's going on.
I have to admit that the only reason I picked up this book is because I saw the fabulously brilliant David Wenham on the front cover. Seems two of Maloney's books have been turned into major telemovies, with Wenham in the lead role. Whatever my reasons, I'm so glad I did because so far, this book is a rollicking ride!
By the way, I'd like to take a moment here to thank Maloney for his "rich, ridiculous and tawdry" voice (Melbourne Age), which kept me riveted and sustained, and distracted me from total boredom during several hours recently spent in a walk-in clinic.
Not sure what I'll read when these two are done, but "Let the Right One In" by Swedish author John Ajvide Lindqvist definitely looks promising, and Maloney's second book "The Brush Off" is a must.
Anyway, that's what I'm reading, in case anyone's wondering.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Why is everybody so angry?
News last week out of Norway hit hard. So many dead, so much devastation, so much anger.
Days after the attacks, the world was still reeling and Norwegians were still in shock, albeit vowing to rise above the tragedy and stand strong. In the words of Khalid Hussain, a Norwegian of Pakistani descent, "This is a tragedy for the whole of Norway. Whenever anyone tries to harm democracy, it doesn't matter what skin colour you are or what nationality, it's every person's duty to show solidarity."
Given all the mayhem and madness of late, it might seem that the entire world is going completely bonkers. Deadly natural disasters, man-made tragedies, self-inflicted pain, violent intimidation, intrusive and insensitive computer hacking, poisonous name calling, and incessant silliness and juvenile behaviour from our 'leaders'. And that is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
On a local scale, there are other problems that co-exist with us on a daily basis in our communities - drugs, gangs, theft and worse. That's all bad enough, but for me, the real sign of seething unabridged anger is "no rhyme or reason" vandalism. Most crimes are targeted at specific individuals, but vandalism is purely because it's there.
Just last week, one of our neighbours woke up to find his new shed trashed - in Oz, one never trashes a bloke's shed! - and another was confronted by foul language spray painted in big letters on his otherwise well-kept lane-accessed garage. Walk around any neighbourhood, especially on Saturday and Sunday mornings, and you will see evidence of deliberately lit fires, torn-up gardens, pushed-over mailboxes, smashed windows, and an inordinate amount of litter. And that, too, is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
Maybe I'm just a bit sensitive after reading about and personally witnessing so much bad news, but it does seem that people are getting angrier and angrier. Indeed, communication, discussion, common sense, respect for others, respect for self, and - my favourite - counting to 10 have all gone out the window, replaced by yelling and cursing, verbally abusing and insulting, gesticulating and throwing things, fighting and bullying, ignoring and ridiculing. And yes, spray painting garages.
There are so many reasons for and degrees of anger and its delivery, but for those of us who prefer to curse in private, talk things through, think before acting, and paint inside, it's hard to connect with the kind of anger that debilitates, denies and destroys.
I'm not sure why everybody is so angry, but maybe that's something we can talk about when we all calm down a bit. If ever ....
Days after the attacks, the world was still reeling and Norwegians were still in shock, albeit vowing to rise above the tragedy and stand strong. In the words of Khalid Hussain, a Norwegian of Pakistani descent, "This is a tragedy for the whole of Norway. Whenever anyone tries to harm democracy, it doesn't matter what skin colour you are or what nationality, it's every person's duty to show solidarity."
Given all the mayhem and madness of late, it might seem that the entire world is going completely bonkers. Deadly natural disasters, man-made tragedies, self-inflicted pain, violent intimidation, intrusive and insensitive computer hacking, poisonous name calling, and incessant silliness and juvenile behaviour from our 'leaders'. And that is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
On a local scale, there are other problems that co-exist with us on a daily basis in our communities - drugs, gangs, theft and worse. That's all bad enough, but for me, the real sign of seething unabridged anger is "no rhyme or reason" vandalism. Most crimes are targeted at specific individuals, but vandalism is purely because it's there.
Just last week, one of our neighbours woke up to find his new shed trashed - in Oz, one never trashes a bloke's shed! - and another was confronted by foul language spray painted in big letters on his otherwise well-kept lane-accessed garage. Walk around any neighbourhood, especially on Saturday and Sunday mornings, and you will see evidence of deliberately lit fires, torn-up gardens, pushed-over mailboxes, smashed windows, and an inordinate amount of litter. And that, too, is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
Maybe I'm just a bit sensitive after reading about and personally witnessing so much bad news, but it does seem that people are getting angrier and angrier. Indeed, communication, discussion, common sense, respect for others, respect for self, and - my favourite - counting to 10 have all gone out the window, replaced by yelling and cursing, verbally abusing and insulting, gesticulating and throwing things, fighting and bullying, ignoring and ridiculing. And yes, spray painting garages.
There are so many reasons for and degrees of anger and its delivery, but for those of us who prefer to curse in private, talk things through, think before acting, and paint inside, it's hard to connect with the kind of anger that debilitates, denies and destroys.
I'm not sure why everybody is so angry, but maybe that's something we can talk about when we all calm down a bit. If ever ....
Friday, July 22, 2011
It's all good
So, I need to lose a few pounds. Or let me rephrase that - I want to lose a few pounds. Nothing serious, but a little extra effort is required to get me back to where I won't worry about all those challenges that come with carrying a few extra pounds.
Yes, I know. The weight gain was the direct result of too much sitting around and tapping at the keyboard, an overabundance of chocolate peanuts, nachos and pizza, and not enough out and about stuff to keep the balance balanced.
It actually started when my dog, Sydney, died a few years back. We were good mates, walked a lot, kept active. But when she left, I stopped and started, if you get what I mean, and I've stayed that way ever since.
But no more. I'm on a mission for big changes. Actually, I'm already on the road to a lighter version and am loving the new resolve to stay on track.
And just to be clear, along the way I won't be indulging in any personal trainer thing or joining a gym or training to run a marathon or starving myself or buying a scale to check in every day. I'm setting course for something I can stick with long after the fact.
Walking is first on the list - an hour every day, at least. So much to see and so much ground to cover.
Water is a mainstay - actually forgotten how great and refreshing that stuff is. And available everywhere, albeit sometimes for a price.
Fruit and veggies - a wonderful selection is up for grabs, all fun and inexpensive.
Yogurt - meals in little containers, and soooo good for me.
Grains and fibre - regularly speaking.
Oh, no, I'm not abandoning my faithful companions with their seductively wily ways and delicious tastes. I'm just taking some time out to acquaint myself with other possibly permanent companions that will hopefully prove to be equally faithful at some point down the line.
I'm already full on with the walking thing, and the others are fast following suit.
I believe that in all things, a bit of balance is what's required. Just remember that your balance might not compute in someone else's reality, and if you set - and stick to - your own course, you'll end up exactly where you want to be.
Now, did anyone say pizza? With salad, of course!
Yes, I know. The weight gain was the direct result of too much sitting around and tapping at the keyboard, an overabundance of chocolate peanuts, nachos and pizza, and not enough out and about stuff to keep the balance balanced.
It actually started when my dog, Sydney, died a few years back. We were good mates, walked a lot, kept active. But when she left, I stopped and started, if you get what I mean, and I've stayed that way ever since.
But no more. I'm on a mission for big changes. Actually, I'm already on the road to a lighter version and am loving the new resolve to stay on track.
And just to be clear, along the way I won't be indulging in any personal trainer thing or joining a gym or training to run a marathon or starving myself or buying a scale to check in every day. I'm setting course for something I can stick with long after the fact.
Walking is first on the list - an hour every day, at least. So much to see and so much ground to cover.
Water is a mainstay - actually forgotten how great and refreshing that stuff is. And available everywhere, albeit sometimes for a price.
Fruit and veggies - a wonderful selection is up for grabs, all fun and inexpensive.
Yogurt - meals in little containers, and soooo good for me.
Grains and fibre - regularly speaking.
Oh, no, I'm not abandoning my faithful companions with their seductively wily ways and delicious tastes. I'm just taking some time out to acquaint myself with other possibly permanent companions that will hopefully prove to be equally faithful at some point down the line.
I'm already full on with the walking thing, and the others are fast following suit.
I believe that in all things, a bit of balance is what's required. Just remember that your balance might not compute in someone else's reality, and if you set - and stick to - your own course, you'll end up exactly where you want to be.
Now, did anyone say pizza? With salad, of course!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Non-negotiable
When there are lots of things that have to get done, it can be difficult to come up with and stick to a plan to make it all happen. Enter the "to-do list", with its many variations, including my large, transportable "post-it note" list that is visible on a daily basis. Easy to create and stick to, regardless of what is going on.
Actually, making lists was never my problem; getting everything done was. I always got stuck identifying the order in which things on the list should get done. Obviously, not much thought went into making the list, and with so much on the list, doing it was almost impossible.
So, how to know what's important and what should get done first?
Some experts will tell you that you should tackle the big things first and leave the smaller, easier things to the end. But in my experience, some of those smaller, easier things are the important things, so it doesn't feel right to penalise them just because they are small. And what about my projects that are equally important but often supplanted in favour of income-earning options? I'm sure some expert has an opinion on those, as well.
To ease my daily conundrum, a wise sage introduced me to "non-negotiable". A new concept in my cluttered mind that made perfect sense and set my to-do list in perfect order.
Forget about individual items - instead, divide into negotiable and non-negotiable. The latter applies to those things that absolutely have to get done every day (with some Saturdays and all Sundays off for good behaviour), while others will get done if there's time. Might not make sense to you, but if you saw my list ....
So, to keep a long list short, speeches, writing, music, editing (4 hours max - hey, I gotta make some money!), reading, walking and healthy eating are all non-negotiable items, while everything else is negotiable. If I can't fit in all the negotiables after all the non-negotiables have been met, then, quite simply, there are too many negotiables on the list and something has to go. Can't put more hours in the day, and I need some down time alone and with family and friends, so ....
My list works brilliantly! And much more practical than re-listing items on a regular basis, agonizing over order, and chastising myself for not crossing particular things off on any particular day. This way, I simply make one list, stick it up somewhere, and check in every day to make sure the non-negotiables have been met. And there is the side benefit of being able to say a guilt-free "No" to new commitments when the list is full and I can't take on anything else.
What is non-negotiable on your list? Once you identify it, it will never be supplanted again.
Actually, making lists was never my problem; getting everything done was. I always got stuck identifying the order in which things on the list should get done. Obviously, not much thought went into making the list, and with so much on the list, doing it was almost impossible.
So, how to know what's important and what should get done first?
Some experts will tell you that you should tackle the big things first and leave the smaller, easier things to the end. But in my experience, some of those smaller, easier things are the important things, so it doesn't feel right to penalise them just because they are small. And what about my projects that are equally important but often supplanted in favour of income-earning options? I'm sure some expert has an opinion on those, as well.
To ease my daily conundrum, a wise sage introduced me to "non-negotiable". A new concept in my cluttered mind that made perfect sense and set my to-do list in perfect order.
Forget about individual items - instead, divide into negotiable and non-negotiable. The latter applies to those things that absolutely have to get done every day (with some Saturdays and all Sundays off for good behaviour), while others will get done if there's time. Might not make sense to you, but if you saw my list ....
So, to keep a long list short, speeches, writing, music, editing (4 hours max - hey, I gotta make some money!), reading, walking and healthy eating are all non-negotiable items, while everything else is negotiable. If I can't fit in all the negotiables after all the non-negotiables have been met, then, quite simply, there are too many negotiables on the list and something has to go. Can't put more hours in the day, and I need some down time alone and with family and friends, so ....
My list works brilliantly! And much more practical than re-listing items on a regular basis, agonizing over order, and chastising myself for not crossing particular things off on any particular day. This way, I simply make one list, stick it up somewhere, and check in every day to make sure the non-negotiables have been met. And there is the side benefit of being able to say a guilt-free "No" to new commitments when the list is full and I can't take on anything else.
What is non-negotiable on your list? Once you identify it, it will never be supplanted again.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
I am a Gilmore girl!
I love watching tv, especially shows with compelling characters, extraordinary actors, riveting storylines and thought-provoking content, and that mirror life in every possible way.
These days, the attraction is mostly a collection of sci-fi, supernatural, fantasy and horror - Supernatural, Buffy, Stargate (x3), Being Human, Doctor Who, Sanctuary, LOTR and Harry Potter. Who doesn't relish the idea of living in a far off galaxy, travelling to a different time, working side by side with legendary creatures, or existing in an alternate universe?!
However, I must say that the Gilmore girls is a fabulous "none of the above" addition to my viewing schedule that is top of my "must re-watch regularly" list.
Watching the Gilmore girls is like witnessing events and circumstances from my own life on the small screen. No details here, but if you know me, you can guess some of it, and if you watch, you'll fill in the blanks.
I love the abundantly worded scripts that add stacks of energy to the interactions. The pop culture references that I totally get. The scriptwriting clues I pick up and use in current projects. The quirky little town that reminds me of somewhere I'd love to live. Luke's Diner ... well, because it's Luke's. And the realisation that part of me is very Lorelai/Rory while part of me is very Emily.
The Lorelai/Rory part I recognised from day one. It's a side of me that doesn't get out as much these days, but reappears every now and then, especially while I work and when I consider my life. I talk like them, clearly think like them, and drink coffee like them ... and, by the way, that began way before Amy Sherman-Palladino - show creator - even crafted the idea in her mind.
However, it was the Emily part that caught me by surprise when I was re-watching Season 1. Of course, only a tiny part of me is Emily - the 'missing out on when she was growing up' part. You might have to know or watch the show to get this, but in a nutshell, Emily was lamenting the fact that Rory (her granddaughter) had grown up without her being there. That Emily wasn't at Rory's birthday parties, first day of school, end of year plays, yarda yarda yarda, was understandably disappointing and fueled a lot of angst throughout the entire show. Sadly, efforts to make up for that loss did not always have the desired effect.
Emily's lament made me pout. I'd been having those exact same thoughts of late concerning my nieces and nephews in Oz. You see, I left when the youngest - third of five - was only 10 weeks old. So, other than whatever I could dose up on at multiple visits over the past 16 years, I've missed way too much of their lives. Birthday parties, first days at school, end of year plays, boyfriends and girlfriends, and oh, so much more.
If my life was a sci-fi show, I could go back in time and perhaps do things differently, or at least reassure myself that in some alternate universe I hadn't actually missed a thing. Unfortunately, all I can do now is remind them that I'm there for them ... well, here for them ... and only a day away. "All you have to do is call my name and I'll be there on the next plane ..." or "train", as Carole King sang.
My biggest fear is that they will move on to a phase of their lives where they don't need their auntie so much any more. That would be very disappointing indeed.
So, to guard against that, I've taken a leaf out of Emily's book and set up some regular rendezvous for getting together. Dinner every Friday night is virtually possible on FaceBook, and annual visits, regular phone calls, and the odd letter or two also play a role in opening a small window into their lives. It's not the same as being there, but it's kept us connected, nonetheless.
In lieu of a TARDIS, a stargate or a teleportation spell, I'm happy to stay a Gilmore girl. Nutty, witty, funny, unpredictable, quite the character and kinda cool ... which, as my nieces and nephews have told me, is why they love me as much as they do.
Regardless of the genre, tv shows draw us in when they are compelling, extraordinary, riveting and thought provoking, and especially when they mirror life in every possible way. If they happen to mirror your life, well, that a bonus, especially if you pick up any tips, or come to know and understand yourself better than you ever expected.
Thanks, girls!
These days, the attraction is mostly a collection of sci-fi, supernatural, fantasy and horror - Supernatural, Buffy, Stargate (x3), Being Human, Doctor Who, Sanctuary, LOTR and Harry Potter. Who doesn't relish the idea of living in a far off galaxy, travelling to a different time, working side by side with legendary creatures, or existing in an alternate universe?!
However, I must say that the Gilmore girls is a fabulous "none of the above" addition to my viewing schedule that is top of my "must re-watch regularly" list.
Watching the Gilmore girls is like witnessing events and circumstances from my own life on the small screen. No details here, but if you know me, you can guess some of it, and if you watch, you'll fill in the blanks.
I love the abundantly worded scripts that add stacks of energy to the interactions. The pop culture references that I totally get. The scriptwriting clues I pick up and use in current projects. The quirky little town that reminds me of somewhere I'd love to live. Luke's Diner ... well, because it's Luke's. And the realisation that part of me is very Lorelai/Rory while part of me is very Emily.
The Lorelai/Rory part I recognised from day one. It's a side of me that doesn't get out as much these days, but reappears every now and then, especially while I work and when I consider my life. I talk like them, clearly think like them, and drink coffee like them ... and, by the way, that began way before Amy Sherman-Palladino - show creator - even crafted the idea in her mind.
However, it was the Emily part that caught me by surprise when I was re-watching Season 1. Of course, only a tiny part of me is Emily - the 'missing out on when she was growing up' part. You might have to know or watch the show to get this, but in a nutshell, Emily was lamenting the fact that Rory (her granddaughter) had grown up without her being there. That Emily wasn't at Rory's birthday parties, first day of school, end of year plays, yarda yarda yarda, was understandably disappointing and fueled a lot of angst throughout the entire show. Sadly, efforts to make up for that loss did not always have the desired effect.
Emily's lament made me pout. I'd been having those exact same thoughts of late concerning my nieces and nephews in Oz. You see, I left when the youngest - third of five - was only 10 weeks old. So, other than whatever I could dose up on at multiple visits over the past 16 years, I've missed way too much of their lives. Birthday parties, first days at school, end of year plays, boyfriends and girlfriends, and oh, so much more.
If my life was a sci-fi show, I could go back in time and perhaps do things differently, or at least reassure myself that in some alternate universe I hadn't actually missed a thing. Unfortunately, all I can do now is remind them that I'm there for them ... well, here for them ... and only a day away. "All you have to do is call my name and I'll be there on the next plane ..." or "train", as Carole King sang.
My biggest fear is that they will move on to a phase of their lives where they don't need their auntie so much any more. That would be very disappointing indeed.
So, to guard against that, I've taken a leaf out of Emily's book and set up some regular rendezvous for getting together. Dinner every Friday night is virtually possible on FaceBook, and annual visits, regular phone calls, and the odd letter or two also play a role in opening a small window into their lives. It's not the same as being there, but it's kept us connected, nonetheless.
In lieu of a TARDIS, a stargate or a teleportation spell, I'm happy to stay a Gilmore girl. Nutty, witty, funny, unpredictable, quite the character and kinda cool ... which, as my nieces and nephews have told me, is why they love me as much as they do.
Regardless of the genre, tv shows draw us in when they are compelling, extraordinary, riveting and thought provoking, and especially when they mirror life in every possible way. If they happen to mirror your life, well, that a bonus, especially if you pick up any tips, or come to know and understand yourself better than you ever expected.
Thanks, girls!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Brrrr!
So, I took myself off to Tim Horton's coffee shop to do some work last week. It was hot outside, and I figured it would be cool and comfortable inside. Boy, was I in for a shock.
Yes, it was cool - in fact, very cool, bordering on freezing. I stuck it out for a while, but after half an hour, couldn't take it any more.
I don't have problems with the cold - heck, I live in Winnipeg, the "Brrrr!" capital of Canada. Nature's cold is something I love. But the artificial kind? That's a whole other matter.
According to Wikipedia, air conditioning is the removal of heat from indoor air for thermal comfort. Not ALL the heat, just enough for thermal comfort. However, many stores, especially the smaller kind with doors opening on a regular basis - coffee shops, restaurants, etc. - seem to think that if they remove all the heat, that will compensate for the many times people come and go. Unfortunately, the result is that it's often too cold for most people who stay.
I've thought about carrying my own personal thermometer when I go out for coffee or something to eat so I can tell management when it's too cold. But you'd think they'd be able to figure it out for themselves when they see people still wearing their outside coats and/or putting on extra layers.
A few questions ...
Is there a standard for inside/outside temperature ratios?
Is it cheaper to cool than to heat?
Are the low temps meant to hurry us out?
Is there any way those places can carry blankets?
Trust me - I've asked about that last one on many an occasion.
Okay, so clearly I don't get the whole air conditioning thing. Didn't have it growing up, don't like it in the house, rarely turn it on in the car - even the low setting ain't quite low enough. And while I've tried to get used to it, there's something about the natural versus artificial thing that makes it all but impossible.
Last week, it was so cold inside that I up and took myself to the closest clothing place to buy a light layer of some kind. It was hot outside and end of season, so wasn't expecting too much in the way of choice, let alone sizes that would fit. I ended up getting a men's hoodie - cheaper than the comparatively unattractive women's hoodie, but that's another story - and returned to the scene of the chill for a more comfortable hour or so.
When I got back to Tim's and put on my new hoodie, one of the servers asked if I was cold. I said I was, and she said, "Just as well you have that hoodie". And then, as two ladies were leaving - they were there for both my first and second visit that day - one said to me, "You were smart. We grinned and beared it, but next time we'll bring an extra layer as well."
Maybe that's my role in all this - to inspire the world, one person at a time, to carry an extra layer with them everywhere they go, just in case their thermal comfort is not met when they get there. Either that, or I'll find the thermostat myself and make all the necessary adjustments.
Cool, huh?! At least it's not "Brrrr!"
Yes, it was cool - in fact, very cool, bordering on freezing. I stuck it out for a while, but after half an hour, couldn't take it any more.
I don't have problems with the cold - heck, I live in Winnipeg, the "Brrrr!" capital of Canada. Nature's cold is something I love. But the artificial kind? That's a whole other matter.
According to Wikipedia, air conditioning is the removal of heat from indoor air for thermal comfort. Not ALL the heat, just enough for thermal comfort. However, many stores, especially the smaller kind with doors opening on a regular basis - coffee shops, restaurants, etc. - seem to think that if they remove all the heat, that will compensate for the many times people come and go. Unfortunately, the result is that it's often too cold for most people who stay.
I've thought about carrying my own personal thermometer when I go out for coffee or something to eat so I can tell management when it's too cold. But you'd think they'd be able to figure it out for themselves when they see people still wearing their outside coats and/or putting on extra layers.
A few questions ...
Is there a standard for inside/outside temperature ratios?
Is it cheaper to cool than to heat?
Are the low temps meant to hurry us out?
Is there any way those places can carry blankets?
Trust me - I've asked about that last one on many an occasion.
Okay, so clearly I don't get the whole air conditioning thing. Didn't have it growing up, don't like it in the house, rarely turn it on in the car - even the low setting ain't quite low enough. And while I've tried to get used to it, there's something about the natural versus artificial thing that makes it all but impossible.
Last week, it was so cold inside that I up and took myself to the closest clothing place to buy a light layer of some kind. It was hot outside and end of season, so wasn't expecting too much in the way of choice, let alone sizes that would fit. I ended up getting a men's hoodie - cheaper than the comparatively unattractive women's hoodie, but that's another story - and returned to the scene of the chill for a more comfortable hour or so.
When I got back to Tim's and put on my new hoodie, one of the servers asked if I was cold. I said I was, and she said, "Just as well you have that hoodie". And then, as two ladies were leaving - they were there for both my first and second visit that day - one said to me, "You were smart. We grinned and beared it, but next time we'll bring an extra layer as well."
Maybe that's my role in all this - to inspire the world, one person at a time, to carry an extra layer with them everywhere they go, just in case their thermal comfort is not met when they get there. Either that, or I'll find the thermostat myself and make all the necessary adjustments.
Cool, huh?! At least it's not "Brrrr!"
Friday, June 17, 2011
Retire?
When I read last week that Sylvia Kuzyk, long-time veteran news anchor and weather specialist at Winnipeg CTV, was retiring, I was both ecstatic for her and ponderous for me.
Ecstatic because I know Sylvia - mostly through community events and activities, and I think she's inspiring and fun to chat with. She's also great at what she does and, I dare say, she truly loves what she does. A win win for everyone.
Ponderous because of something she said: "I hate the word retire. It's more about just doing the things I've put in the background for such a long time." Hmmm ....
Reminded me of something my nephew, Matthew, once said when I asked him what he wanted to do when he grew up. "Retire," came the proud and confident response. "Retire?" "Sure. Everyone seems so much happier when they retire 'cause they get to do things they can't do when they are working."
Very insightful for a young boy.
Many people love their jobs, and are happy to stay in them forever - or at least until they retire. They make their way up the proverbial ladder, pursue the same general direction although in other places, or do a complete 360 and try something completely different - and not just once.
But not everyone loves their job. And not everyone can leave a bad job, an uninspiring job, or a job that fails to reflect their talents and aspirations. Responsibilities, expectations and assumptions have a lot to do with that.
Furthermore, not everyone has the schooling or the finances or the support to pursue their passion - and we all know that passion doesn't always pay, hence the divide for many between what they love to do and what they have to do.
Good job or bad, some people can't wait for retirement. A chance to do those things they've put in the background for such a long time.
In an ideal world, we'd all have jobs we love, we'd all have time for our passions, and we'd all be able to blend the joys and possibilities of retirement with the responsibilities and realities of our working lives.
Either that, or we could simply go straight to retirement and get started on those projects, those passions, in that new direction.
I've been playing in that world for a while, but not making much headway because of those pesky responsibilities, expectations and assumptions. But after reading of Sylvia's bold move, working in tandem with my friend Shelagh (who is intent on finishing her own big project), and talking with my Aussie mate Liz, who, while looking for her own 360, said, "You just have to get those speeches done and make it happen!", I'm inspired to fully embrace an early 'retirement' from my current work (editing) and begin in earnest and with passion on my desire to speak and write full time, with some music thrown in for good measure.
Inspired, yes, but also ecstatic and ponderous.
Ecstatic because I've decided not to wait until I retire to retire. Ponderous because I need to clear the proverbial decks and finish up what I currently have on my slate before I can "make it happen".
Can I do it? I've tried before. Hard to cut those ties, turn off those distractions. But I truly believe that this is what I'm meant to do and that it's time for less action and more talk ... if you get what I mean. Absolutely, I will find a way to make it happen.
And this time, PLEASE hold me to it!
So, let me just say, "Congratulations, Sylvia. Thanks to you, Shelagh and Liz for the inspiration. And good luck to us all!"
Ecstatic because I know Sylvia - mostly through community events and activities, and I think she's inspiring and fun to chat with. She's also great at what she does and, I dare say, she truly loves what she does. A win win for everyone.
Ponderous because of something she said: "I hate the word retire. It's more about just doing the things I've put in the background for such a long time." Hmmm ....
Reminded me of something my nephew, Matthew, once said when I asked him what he wanted to do when he grew up. "Retire," came the proud and confident response. "Retire?" "Sure. Everyone seems so much happier when they retire 'cause they get to do things they can't do when they are working."
Very insightful for a young boy.
Many people love their jobs, and are happy to stay in them forever - or at least until they retire. They make their way up the proverbial ladder, pursue the same general direction although in other places, or do a complete 360 and try something completely different - and not just once.
But not everyone loves their job. And not everyone can leave a bad job, an uninspiring job, or a job that fails to reflect their talents and aspirations. Responsibilities, expectations and assumptions have a lot to do with that.
Furthermore, not everyone has the schooling or the finances or the support to pursue their passion - and we all know that passion doesn't always pay, hence the divide for many between what they love to do and what they have to do.
Good job or bad, some people can't wait for retirement. A chance to do those things they've put in the background for such a long time.
In an ideal world, we'd all have jobs we love, we'd all have time for our passions, and we'd all be able to blend the joys and possibilities of retirement with the responsibilities and realities of our working lives.
Either that, or we could simply go straight to retirement and get started on those projects, those passions, in that new direction.
I've been playing in that world for a while, but not making much headway because of those pesky responsibilities, expectations and assumptions. But after reading of Sylvia's bold move, working in tandem with my friend Shelagh (who is intent on finishing her own big project), and talking with my Aussie mate Liz, who, while looking for her own 360, said, "You just have to get those speeches done and make it happen!", I'm inspired to fully embrace an early 'retirement' from my current work (editing) and begin in earnest and with passion on my desire to speak and write full time, with some music thrown in for good measure.
Inspired, yes, but also ecstatic and ponderous.
Ecstatic because I've decided not to wait until I retire to retire. Ponderous because I need to clear the proverbial decks and finish up what I currently have on my slate before I can "make it happen".
Can I do it? I've tried before. Hard to cut those ties, turn off those distractions. But I truly believe that this is what I'm meant to do and that it's time for less action and more talk ... if you get what I mean. Absolutely, I will find a way to make it happen.
And this time, PLEASE hold me to it!
So, let me just say, "Congratulations, Sylvia. Thanks to you, Shelagh and Liz for the inspiration. And good luck to us all!"
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Reset
Ever have one of those days where you seem to follow one mishap with another?
Today was my day.
Got out of bed and stubbed my big toe - bugger! - on the door frame as I stumbled my way to breakfast. Spilled a glass of orange juice all over the table - and had to wash the tablecloth and placemats. Dropped a piece of toast on the floor. Burnt my lip on some too hot tea. Printed a 10-page document 20 times instead of a single page of that document 20 times. Shredded the wrong draft of a letter - twice! Misspoke in an email and confused a potential client - or at least she was 'potential' until she got the email. And made five attempts to type a four-letter word correctly - no, not one of those four-letter words (although I was thinking of some as I erred).
And all before 1:12 pm.
Days like that can be frustrating, to say the least. But occasionally they are a blessing. Reminders that things are perhaps a little out of control. That it's time to take a break. So, at 1:12 pm, I did exactly that - went for a walk and took in some Vitamin D, breathed and stretched, played the guitar for a bit, and finally got back down to work.
Kind of like a reset button.
And it worked wonders. No more hazardry behaviour, no more mishaps, no more swear-word-inducing moments. Only a sigh of relief that ferried the afternoon to conclusion.
Ah, much better. So much so, that I'm going to hit the reset button again tomorrow - BEFORE the mishaps get the better of me!
Today was my day.
Got out of bed and stubbed my big toe - bugger! - on the door frame as I stumbled my way to breakfast. Spilled a glass of orange juice all over the table - and had to wash the tablecloth and placemats. Dropped a piece of toast on the floor. Burnt my lip on some too hot tea. Printed a 10-page document 20 times instead of a single page of that document 20 times. Shredded the wrong draft of a letter - twice! Misspoke in an email and confused a potential client - or at least she was 'potential' until she got the email. And made five attempts to type a four-letter word correctly - no, not one of those four-letter words (although I was thinking of some as I erred).
And all before 1:12 pm.
Days like that can be frustrating, to say the least. But occasionally they are a blessing. Reminders that things are perhaps a little out of control. That it's time to take a break. So, at 1:12 pm, I did exactly that - went for a walk and took in some Vitamin D, breathed and stretched, played the guitar for a bit, and finally got back down to work.
Kind of like a reset button.
And it worked wonders. No more hazardry behaviour, no more mishaps, no more swear-word-inducing moments. Only a sigh of relief that ferried the afternoon to conclusion.
Ah, much better. So much so, that I'm going to hit the reset button again tomorrow - BEFORE the mishaps get the better of me!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
"Bugger!"
That's about as far as I'm prepared to go when it comes to swearing in public. None of those other words that offend and annoy - and could cost a lot of money.
Yes, it seems that the key to stopping all those damn curse words is to slap on a fine and publicly admonish the offenders.
In Australia, new laws are in the works that will slap on-the-spot fines of up to $240 on anyone using offensive words or phrases and obnoxious swearing.
According to one of Victoria’s top lawyers, "[this law is] targeted at the sort of obnoxious, offensive behaviour in public that makes life unpleasant for everybody else."
Bugger!
And earlier this week, Avril Lavigne was called out for unleashing some foul language following a baseball game between the home team, the Tampa Bay Rays, and the visiting Cleveland Indians. The crowd wasn't happy - their team lost AND Lavigne's post-game performance was delayed by technical glitches. Apparently, she responded to their booing with "salty language" as part of her profanity-laced explanation for the delay.
According to the Tampa Bay spokesman, "The Rays demand profanity-free performances from all of our concert performers and we are extremely disappointed by the language used in last night's show."
Bugger!
Okay, I admit that I've slipped up from time to time, but it's usually when I'm really angry or upset about something. Or when I stub my big toe. Those mostly four-, sometimes five-or-more-letter words rarely make their way into my everyday public communication, although I do occasionally swear at other drivers on the road - always with the windows up so as to avoid any follow-up confrontation from possible misinterpretation of my word selection.
Personally, I don't get why some people swear as much as they do. I'm sure some of them think they need to swear, that there are no other words they can use and no other ways to express themselves. And I believe that a few make the conscious decision to use every swear word they know so they can be as annoying and obnoxious as possible. And still others are so adept at swearing that they don't even realize when they are doing it.
To all those people, I suggest purchasing a thesaurus - there you will find lots of other words you can use that will save you money and avoid the risk of public admonishment.
Despite our best efforts to curtail the obnoxious, offensive behaviour, it's not likely we'll be successful ... unless the perpetrators make a conscious and active decision to cease and desist. Creative thinking is all that's needed here, but sadly that seems to be in much shorter supply than the number of words available to annoy and offend.
Ultimately, if we want to curtail the foul language, all we can really do is lead by example - don't swear in public, ever - and chose more acceptable alternatives - I like struth, crikey, and, yes, bugger!
If that doesn't work, we can always ignore that which doth hurt offend us and tell ourselves that those words don't mean anything anyway. They are simply the tools of expression for a few angry, frustrated, uncreative people - who don't have a thesaurus and/or drive with their windows up.
And if none of the above have any impact whatsoever, well, there's always fines and public admonishment.
Bugger!
Yes, it seems that the key to stopping all those damn curse words is to slap on a fine and publicly admonish the offenders.
In Australia, new laws are in the works that will slap on-the-spot fines of up to $240 on anyone using offensive words or phrases and obnoxious swearing.
According to one of Victoria’s top lawyers, "[this law is] targeted at the sort of obnoxious, offensive behaviour in public that makes life unpleasant for everybody else."
Bugger!
And earlier this week, Avril Lavigne was called out for unleashing some foul language following a baseball game between the home team, the Tampa Bay Rays, and the visiting Cleveland Indians. The crowd wasn't happy - their team lost AND Lavigne's post-game performance was delayed by technical glitches. Apparently, she responded to their booing with "salty language" as part of her profanity-laced explanation for the delay.
According to the Tampa Bay spokesman, "The Rays demand profanity-free performances from all of our concert performers and we are extremely disappointed by the language used in last night's show."
Bugger!
Okay, I admit that I've slipped up from time to time, but it's usually when I'm really angry or upset about something. Or when I stub my big toe. Those mostly four-, sometimes five-or-more-letter words rarely make their way into my everyday public communication, although I do occasionally swear at other drivers on the road - always with the windows up so as to avoid any follow-up confrontation from possible misinterpretation of my word selection.
Personally, I don't get why some people swear as much as they do. I'm sure some of them think they need to swear, that there are no other words they can use and no other ways to express themselves. And I believe that a few make the conscious decision to use every swear word they know so they can be as annoying and obnoxious as possible. And still others are so adept at swearing that they don't even realize when they are doing it.
To all those people, I suggest purchasing a thesaurus - there you will find lots of other words you can use that will save you money and avoid the risk of public admonishment.
Despite our best efforts to curtail the obnoxious, offensive behaviour, it's not likely we'll be successful ... unless the perpetrators make a conscious and active decision to cease and desist. Creative thinking is all that's needed here, but sadly that seems to be in much shorter supply than the number of words available to annoy and offend.
Ultimately, if we want to curtail the foul language, all we can really do is lead by example - don't swear in public, ever - and chose more acceptable alternatives - I like struth, crikey, and, yes, bugger!
If that doesn't work, we can always ignore that which doth hurt offend us and tell ourselves that those words don't mean anything anyway. They are simply the tools of expression for a few angry, frustrated, uncreative people - who don't have a thesaurus and/or drive with their windows up.
And if none of the above have any impact whatsoever, well, there's always fines and public admonishment.
Bugger!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Just dandy!
You know how some things come back to haunt you?
Not always right away, but at some point in your life, you get the sense that you are being paid back for past deeds.
Such was the case yesterday when we were out on the front boulevard.
When I was a little girl, there was a belief that if you picked a seeded dandelion and blew all the seeds off in one breath, you would get whatever wish you made. So, regularly, on the way home from school or playing outside or when visiting friends, I would make a wish, pick an appropriate dandelion, and literally blow it away.
Little did I know I was spreading disaster for homeowners who wanted uninterrupted green grass lawns and dandelion-free gardens ...
... until yesterday, when we spent an hour on our hands and knees, armed with old kitchen knives and wearing comfortable gloves, digging out the little buggers and carefully discarding them in a secure plastic bag. They had not seeded yet, but they would soon, and we wanted to make sure that as much as possible, and for this year at least, we are dandelion free.
Next year, it won't matter so much because we plan to convert our front and back lawns to native gardens, with lots of prairie plants and easy access routes for anyone who wants to enjoy them. But for now, it would be just dandy to have uninterrupted green grass lawns and a dandelion-free garden.
As we de-weeded, I kept thinking back to my youth and all those dandelion seeds I spread in our neighbourhood and beyond. It was a different grass there - kikuyu, known for its rapid growth and aggressive nature, and popular in Australia because it is cheap and drought-tolerant. And kikuyu doesn't like to share with dandelions, which is why I don't remember any in our yard. However, I do remember infestations in lots of other places ... probably some of them courtesy of moi! Sorry.
So, let me just say that if I knew then what I know now, learned at the end of a back-breaking dandelion removal stint on our front boulevard, I would never have actively contributed to the attempted world domination by the dandelion population. But I am going to make up for that now by digging out those little buggers every time they raise their pretty little heads.
And while there might be lots in our neighbourhood, you can rest assured that they won't come from us!
Not always right away, but at some point in your life, you get the sense that you are being paid back for past deeds.
Such was the case yesterday when we were out on the front boulevard.
When I was a little girl, there was a belief that if you picked a seeded dandelion and blew all the seeds off in one breath, you would get whatever wish you made. So, regularly, on the way home from school or playing outside or when visiting friends, I would make a wish, pick an appropriate dandelion, and literally blow it away.
Little did I know I was spreading disaster for homeowners who wanted uninterrupted green grass lawns and dandelion-free gardens ...
... until yesterday, when we spent an hour on our hands and knees, armed with old kitchen knives and wearing comfortable gloves, digging out the little buggers and carefully discarding them in a secure plastic bag. They had not seeded yet, but they would soon, and we wanted to make sure that as much as possible, and for this year at least, we are dandelion free.
Next year, it won't matter so much because we plan to convert our front and back lawns to native gardens, with lots of prairie plants and easy access routes for anyone who wants to enjoy them. But for now, it would be just dandy to have uninterrupted green grass lawns and a dandelion-free garden.
As we de-weeded, I kept thinking back to my youth and all those dandelion seeds I spread in our neighbourhood and beyond. It was a different grass there - kikuyu, known for its rapid growth and aggressive nature, and popular in Australia because it is cheap and drought-tolerant. And kikuyu doesn't like to share with dandelions, which is why I don't remember any in our yard. However, I do remember infestations in lots of other places ... probably some of them courtesy of moi! Sorry.
So, let me just say that if I knew then what I know now, learned at the end of a back-breaking dandelion removal stint on our front boulevard, I would never have actively contributed to the attempted world domination by the dandelion population. But I am going to make up for that now by digging out those little buggers every time they raise their pretty little heads.
And while there might be lots in our neighbourhood, you can rest assured that they won't come from us!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!
I love movies. And I love movie reviews. I'm always interested to hear what other people think about ones I'm going to see and ones I might see. I don't spend too much time reading someone else's perspective on movies I'm not going to see. You simply can't see them all, right? So, there's got to be some way to keep the list manageable.
Personally, my favourite reviewer is Giles Hardie from the Sydney Morning Herald, and not only because he tackles a lot of Aussie films ... that unfortunately I don't get to see. Giles is plain language, to the point, explores the highs and lows, and employs just enough quirk to make even a bad film sound potentially watchable.
Even so, I try not to let reviews dictate whether or not I see a particular film - I like to make up my own mind. And for sure there are times when a review simply doesn't equate with my experience - anticipated or otherwise.
As a big fan of Jack Sparrow and his crazy antics on the high seas, I was, to say the least, aghast at Randall King's 1.5 star review of the latest installment of "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides". He spoke of "... lethargic, peg-legged pace, steady-paycheque performances, and a dearth of magic". Ouch!
Okay, so Randall's entitled to his opinion, but "senseless", "weird", "daffy" and "treads water"? Um, I don't know about you, but that's part of why I love the "Pirates" movies so much. They're movies about pirates, their silly and senseless behaviour, weird attire and daffy lines, and yes, they tread water in one way or another as they fight friend and foe, connive to steal and cheat, attempt to trick and deceive, find themselves in all sorts of situations that are plain ridiculous, and they trade allegiances like they were pieces of gold. Ooh, makes me giddy just to think about it!
Good review or not, movies are a great escape. And with so much junk going on in the world today, isn't it better to spend some time drifting "On Stranger Tides" and immersing oneself in some comedy or fantasy or action - or perhaps a combination of all three?
By the way, Randall is not the only one who doesn't like Pirates IV; there are lots and lots who aren't on board with the latest installment - although, in case you were wondering, Giles gave it 3.5 stars. :)
Still, I will not be swayed. For my money, Jack's my man. Makes me laugh, smile, and wish I was a pirate, or at least playing one in the fifth installment - which, judging by the first weekend's take of $256.3 million, there might just be.
"Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
Personally, my favourite reviewer is Giles Hardie from the Sydney Morning Herald, and not only because he tackles a lot of Aussie films ... that unfortunately I don't get to see. Giles is plain language, to the point, explores the highs and lows, and employs just enough quirk to make even a bad film sound potentially watchable.
Even so, I try not to let reviews dictate whether or not I see a particular film - I like to make up my own mind. And for sure there are times when a review simply doesn't equate with my experience - anticipated or otherwise.
As a big fan of Jack Sparrow and his crazy antics on the high seas, I was, to say the least, aghast at Randall King's 1.5 star review of the latest installment of "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides". He spoke of "... lethargic, peg-legged pace, steady-paycheque performances, and a dearth of magic". Ouch!
Okay, so Randall's entitled to his opinion, but "senseless", "weird", "daffy" and "treads water"? Um, I don't know about you, but that's part of why I love the "Pirates" movies so much. They're movies about pirates, their silly and senseless behaviour, weird attire and daffy lines, and yes, they tread water in one way or another as they fight friend and foe, connive to steal and cheat, attempt to trick and deceive, find themselves in all sorts of situations that are plain ridiculous, and they trade allegiances like they were pieces of gold. Ooh, makes me giddy just to think about it!
Good review or not, movies are a great escape. And with so much junk going on in the world today, isn't it better to spend some time drifting "On Stranger Tides" and immersing oneself in some comedy or fantasy or action - or perhaps a combination of all three?
By the way, Randall is not the only one who doesn't like Pirates IV; there are lots and lots who aren't on board with the latest installment - although, in case you were wondering, Giles gave it 3.5 stars. :)
Still, I will not be swayed. For my money, Jack's my man. Makes me laugh, smile, and wish I was a pirate, or at least playing one in the fifth installment - which, judging by the first weekend's take of $256.3 million, there might just be.
"Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
Friday, May 20, 2011
Two wrongs don't make it right
If you're not paying attention, it's easy to get caught up in the silly goings on that is the world of fame and fortune.
Okay, let me just say that I wouldn't mind a dose of fame and fortune. Been working on it, but so far, unsuccessful in any way that constitutes being able to live without having to worry about money. Successful in other ways, and fortunately, the kind that leaves me unattractive to the world's media. So there are some benefits to relative obscurity!
But getting back to my original thought here. I couldn't help but notice - mostly because it currently features on every print, web and small screen (is 46" still considered small screen?) medium - the mind boggling scenario concerning Arnie and Maria ... and Mildred.
The whole thing is kind of off, but what caught my eye was the claim that Mildred "had kept [the secret] faithfully for 14 years" - as if that's supposed to give her some brownie points in our eyes.
A quick reminder that it takes two to make a child (in most cases), so while Mildred - or at least those who are speaking on her behalf - appear to be painting her as the oh so faithful and innocent party, the act itself and the silence on the matter by both her and Arnie are two wrongs that don't make it right.
It's always the risk when you play with more than one hand. And they should not be surprised that it's finally out in the open, and that the fallout is going to cost a lot and hurt, well, Maria and her children and the boy in question - not to mention those involved in the Terminator franchise, now that Arnie's put that on hold.
Perhaps the moral here is to not do the deed in the first place. But that would be way too simple and obvious, and rooted in common sense - the lack of which appears to be a permanent affliction not restricted to those blessed with fame and fortune.
Fame and fortune is not for everyone. Still, I wouldn't mind giving it a try - but without the cheating and the intense media focus, if that's okay ... and even possible!
Okay, let me just say that I wouldn't mind a dose of fame and fortune. Been working on it, but so far, unsuccessful in any way that constitutes being able to live without having to worry about money. Successful in other ways, and fortunately, the kind that leaves me unattractive to the world's media. So there are some benefits to relative obscurity!
But getting back to my original thought here. I couldn't help but notice - mostly because it currently features on every print, web and small screen (is 46" still considered small screen?) medium - the mind boggling scenario concerning Arnie and Maria ... and Mildred.
The whole thing is kind of off, but what caught my eye was the claim that Mildred "had kept [the secret] faithfully for 14 years" - as if that's supposed to give her some brownie points in our eyes.
A quick reminder that it takes two to make a child (in most cases), so while Mildred - or at least those who are speaking on her behalf - appear to be painting her as the oh so faithful and innocent party, the act itself and the silence on the matter by both her and Arnie are two wrongs that don't make it right.
It's always the risk when you play with more than one hand. And they should not be surprised that it's finally out in the open, and that the fallout is going to cost a lot and hurt, well, Maria and her children and the boy in question - not to mention those involved in the Terminator franchise, now that Arnie's put that on hold.
Perhaps the moral here is to not do the deed in the first place. But that would be way too simple and obvious, and rooted in common sense - the lack of which appears to be a permanent affliction not restricted to those blessed with fame and fortune.
Fame and fortune is not for everyone. Still, I wouldn't mind giving it a try - but without the cheating and the intense media focus, if that's okay ... and even possible!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
When we are at the end
I don't normally write about TV shows, but I feel compelled to natter on about one or two of them at this point in time.
With the apparent demise of Stargate Universe, I have to admit that I feel sad. Although I came into this series a few weeks after it began, I've stayed the course and watched it to the thrilling though bittersweet conclusion. That SyFy has grounded what was meant to be a 5-season series, right when it's come into its own, is confusing and frustrating.
Okay, I know that SGU is somewhat of a niche product, but you have to think that considering its heritage, in all likelihood there are enough fans out there to at least let it run to the finish line, especially given how it has powered the second season to such great heights. Each episode seemed to get getter and better, stronger and more compelling, dramatic and heartwarming, personal and extraordinary.
But hey, that's what I saw and I'm proud to say I'm a true SG supporter, through all it reincarnations.
When we are the end of a series, fans are naturally sad, but when the end is nigh and the fan base is still growing, it's hard to understand the argument for cancellation, or even care about ratings and reviews. When you love a show, you love it, and only you will be able to change your mind.
So, when the wrap is solid, makes sense for the characters, and provides just enough hope while allowing you to say, "Okay, I can live with that", then we are at least satisfied, to some degree, about that final episode. However, when the wrap is 'wrong', and we are left hanging with no satisfaction, no conclusion and no digestible explanation, well, it's hard to make any sense of the decision.
As a fan of Buffy and Angel, two great shows that have sadly wrapped (although still very much alive in various configurations), I experienced both "solid" and "wrong" situations. Yes, I would have liked Buffy to keep going, but the end for me was an end, and I said goodbye with a smile on my face.
However, when Angel was cancelled, the final episode seemed empty, pointless, hopeless, and altogether wrong. Okay, I could choose to speculate that they all survived, blah, blah, blah, but speculation is no substitute for a smile on my face. To this day, I wish there had been a movie or a last-minute reprieve to finish that series the way it deserved to go out, rather than cut it off at the knees, leaving the sick feeling that evil had won in the end.
When we are at the real end of a series, true fans know it and are willing to live with it, to varying degrees. But when it's all wrong, and the end is merely a transition from continuing storyline to budget cuts, well, there's not an ounce of satisfaction for anyone involved with the show.
At least Fringe is still going ... but that show gets better and better, which leaves me somewhat fearful about its future.
With the apparent demise of Stargate Universe, I have to admit that I feel sad. Although I came into this series a few weeks after it began, I've stayed the course and watched it to the thrilling though bittersweet conclusion. That SyFy has grounded what was meant to be a 5-season series, right when it's come into its own, is confusing and frustrating.
Okay, I know that SGU is somewhat of a niche product, but you have to think that considering its heritage, in all likelihood there are enough fans out there to at least let it run to the finish line, especially given how it has powered the second season to such great heights. Each episode seemed to get getter and better, stronger and more compelling, dramatic and heartwarming, personal and extraordinary.
But hey, that's what I saw and I'm proud to say I'm a true SG supporter, through all it reincarnations.
When we are the end of a series, fans are naturally sad, but when the end is nigh and the fan base is still growing, it's hard to understand the argument for cancellation, or even care about ratings and reviews. When you love a show, you love it, and only you will be able to change your mind.
So, when the wrap is solid, makes sense for the characters, and provides just enough hope while allowing you to say, "Okay, I can live with that", then we are at least satisfied, to some degree, about that final episode. However, when the wrap is 'wrong', and we are left hanging with no satisfaction, no conclusion and no digestible explanation, well, it's hard to make any sense of the decision.
As a fan of Buffy and Angel, two great shows that have sadly wrapped (although still very much alive in various configurations), I experienced both "solid" and "wrong" situations. Yes, I would have liked Buffy to keep going, but the end for me was an end, and I said goodbye with a smile on my face.
However, when Angel was cancelled, the final episode seemed empty, pointless, hopeless, and altogether wrong. Okay, I could choose to speculate that they all survived, blah, blah, blah, but speculation is no substitute for a smile on my face. To this day, I wish there had been a movie or a last-minute reprieve to finish that series the way it deserved to go out, rather than cut it off at the knees, leaving the sick feeling that evil had won in the end.
When we are at the real end of a series, true fans know it and are willing to live with it, to varying degrees. But when it's all wrong, and the end is merely a transition from continuing storyline to budget cuts, well, there's not an ounce of satisfaction for anyone involved with the show.
At least Fringe is still going ... but that show gets better and better, which leaves me somewhat fearful about its future.
Anonymous no more
I love it when people make anonymous donations to worthy causes. When they leave little presents on someone's doorstep to brighten their day. When they give time without looking to see if anyone is noticing. When they step up without expecting accolades.
I love it when corporations give money without requiring that their name be attached to the building or arena or school or festival. When philanthropists go about their business without looking for kudos. When the smallest deed goes without saying, the smallest step is taken without knowledge, the smallest thought stirs others' souls without them ever realising the source.
I love anonymous, which is why I hate it when the anonymous benefactor decides to make themselves known for their own recognition. Look, giving in any way for any reason is absolutely to be applauded. But don't change horses midstream just so you can get some public accolades.
Even worse is when someone breaks the news and 'exposes' the anonymous benefactor without their knowledge or approval. Spoil sports!
Personally? I prefer to let the deed speak for itself. We don't all need to know who and why, and we don't all need the accolades.
I love it when corporations give money without requiring that their name be attached to the building or arena or school or festival. When philanthropists go about their business without looking for kudos. When the smallest deed goes without saying, the smallest step is taken without knowledge, the smallest thought stirs others' souls without them ever realising the source.
I love anonymous, which is why I hate it when the anonymous benefactor decides to make themselves known for their own recognition. Look, giving in any way for any reason is absolutely to be applauded. But don't change horses midstream just so you can get some public accolades.
Even worse is when someone breaks the news and 'exposes' the anonymous benefactor without their knowledge or approval. Spoil sports!
Personally? I prefer to let the deed speak for itself. We don't all need to know who and why, and we don't all need the accolades.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Who am I anyway?
I was working quietly today - not! - when an email popped up with a link to an article. Most days I don't have time to read all the links that come my way, but this one caught my eye.
Christina Katz had written a piece titled "Elements of a Successful Fiction Platform", and since I'm sort of in that particular market, I decided to take a peek. Actually, I printed off several pages of great info to read in detail later, but it was what I saw right at the start that completely turned my day around.
Christina began with "To really make your name, you need to put it out there". Some of you might say, "Well, duh!", but those 12 words sparked a long-held-dormant realisation.
For months, I've been struggling to navigate the murky waters between doing what I love and doing what I have to do to stay afloat. And the wrong side has been winning, at least from a self-esteem perspective. What I took from Christina's words is that even before I put my name out there, I have to know what I want that name to say.
Right now, my name paints a picture of someone wearing too many hats and covering too diverse a territory. Not being committed to one hat or one genre is mentally, physically and emotionally exhausting because I am spread so thin that I can't be truly effective at any. And then constantly chastising myself for not "making time for what I love" serves no one, other than the "what I have to do to stay afloat" pundits, who benefit from my inability to act.
In other words, if I want to be a speaker and a writer, I have to tell myself that is who I am and then put my name out there for all to see. And if I'm going to tell myself who I am, I have do a better job at navigating those murky waters and finding my way to what I love. Hence, it's time to discard those things that weigh me down and only serve to make me feel bad about myself.
And when I do that? Well, I will either talk about it or write about it, or both - but that will be my choice because it will be what I love to do!
Christina Katz had written a piece titled "Elements of a Successful Fiction Platform", and since I'm sort of in that particular market, I decided to take a peek. Actually, I printed off several pages of great info to read in detail later, but it was what I saw right at the start that completely turned my day around.
Christina began with "To really make your name, you need to put it out there". Some of you might say, "Well, duh!", but those 12 words sparked a long-held-dormant realisation.
For months, I've been struggling to navigate the murky waters between doing what I love and doing what I have to do to stay afloat. And the wrong side has been winning, at least from a self-esteem perspective. What I took from Christina's words is that even before I put my name out there, I have to know what I want that name to say.
Right now, my name paints a picture of someone wearing too many hats and covering too diverse a territory. Not being committed to one hat or one genre is mentally, physically and emotionally exhausting because I am spread so thin that I can't be truly effective at any. And then constantly chastising myself for not "making time for what I love" serves no one, other than the "what I have to do to stay afloat" pundits, who benefit from my inability to act.
In other words, if I want to be a speaker and a writer, I have to tell myself that is who I am and then put my name out there for all to see. And if I'm going to tell myself who I am, I have do a better job at navigating those murky waters and finding my way to what I love. Hence, it's time to discard those things that weigh me down and only serve to make me feel bad about myself.
And when I do that? Well, I will either talk about it or write about it, or both - but that will be my choice because it will be what I love to do!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
This could be fun
In this age of social media and instant communication, it's easy to be distracted by the desire to connect. But given my recent hiatus from all things revealy, I wonder if it's really what I need right now?
Twitter is short and sweet, but I tried that and quickly realised I don't really have anything to offer my followers. Just uploading links from the Sydney Morning Herald doesn't seem all that inspiring or useful to anyone. My work isn't anywhere near the point where I have valuable insights and spectacular things worth sharing. So, I ended up twittering away the time reading other people's stuff. A big distraction when I'm already so busy with all my projects and numerous other commitments.
Facebook was the perfect remedy to the distance from my family and friends in Oz. I can happily talk to my nephews and nieces, my brother, the Haragoers, uni friends, ex-work friends, and assorted rellies and mates any time of the day and night. But then a whole whack of people I don't know and don't have time to get to know came knocking at the proverbial door, and I ended up spending a lot of time turning them away. Add to that the incessant desire to post something - anything! - and respond with a clever comment, or not, and you have a big time distraction.
Blogging was fun, but I used it for all the wrong reasons. It became a 'must do daily' exercise, even if I didn't have anything particularly interesting to say. And if I didn't post, I pouted, lamenting my inability to stick to a simple deadline. In effect, the whole thinking side of things turned into a disappointing distraction.
But then I remembered why I started blogging in the first place - my friend Brian said he thought I would be a natural. Ooh, that kind of compliment was all I needed to put fingers to keyboard. And for a while, it was natural, but then it became forced and that's when it all went from go to woe.
Anyway, no more woe. I am going to revert back to the initial impetus for my blog - to write what I live and say what I feel. Some of it will be drivel, and some will be aligned with where I am in my sabbatical - oh yes, that's still going, but I've got a new plan. Again.
So, if you are still reading, stay tuned - this could be fun!
Twitter is short and sweet, but I tried that and quickly realised I don't really have anything to offer my followers. Just uploading links from the Sydney Morning Herald doesn't seem all that inspiring or useful to anyone. My work isn't anywhere near the point where I have valuable insights and spectacular things worth sharing. So, I ended up twittering away the time reading other people's stuff. A big distraction when I'm already so busy with all my projects and numerous other commitments.
Facebook was the perfect remedy to the distance from my family and friends in Oz. I can happily talk to my nephews and nieces, my brother, the Haragoers, uni friends, ex-work friends, and assorted rellies and mates any time of the day and night. But then a whole whack of people I don't know and don't have time to get to know came knocking at the proverbial door, and I ended up spending a lot of time turning them away. Add to that the incessant desire to post something - anything! - and respond with a clever comment, or not, and you have a big time distraction.
Blogging was fun, but I used it for all the wrong reasons. It became a 'must do daily' exercise, even if I didn't have anything particularly interesting to say. And if I didn't post, I pouted, lamenting my inability to stick to a simple deadline. In effect, the whole thinking side of things turned into a disappointing distraction.
But then I remembered why I started blogging in the first place - my friend Brian said he thought I would be a natural. Ooh, that kind of compliment was all I needed to put fingers to keyboard. And for a while, it was natural, but then it became forced and that's when it all went from go to woe.
Anyway, no more woe. I am going to revert back to the initial impetus for my blog - to write what I live and say what I feel. Some of it will be drivel, and some will be aligned with where I am in my sabbatical - oh yes, that's still going, but I've got a new plan. Again.
So, if you are still reading, stay tuned - this could be fun!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Day 17: Day after day
Work continues, but reporting does not. And I'm perfectly fine with that, because I don't want to get into the habit of switching work time for blog time. Not right now, at least, when there is still so much to do and not all the time in the world in which to do it all.
Suffice to say that the speeches are moving along and I am happy with how they are going. Am successfully managing interruptions, and paying attention to books and other ideas instead of leaving them to flounder on their own and then attacking myself for ignoring them.
So, back to it. Later!
Suffice to say that the speeches are moving along and I am happy with how they are going. Am successfully managing interruptions, and paying attention to books and other ideas instead of leaving them to flounder on their own and then attacking myself for ignoring them.
So, back to it. Later!
Monday, January 10, 2011
Day 10: Interruptions be damned!
Steady progress came to a complete halt today with several interruptions and a few tasks that simply would not be deterred. Okay, yes, so I could have put them off, but commitments that they were required me to act accordingly.
As well, hearts are broken with the devastating news of deadly flooding in Queensland. Not my home state, but my country and my roots, and it's shocking to bear witness from a distance and be served details on a regular basis such that we can only stand and weep.
It's enough to make one stop working altogether and wonder how those poor buggers are faring. The least I can do is stay true to my course, and maybe then be able to offer my voice and my pen in ways that are meaningful and true.
Interruptions be damned! You will not have your natural impact for long.
As well, hearts are broken with the devastating news of deadly flooding in Queensland. Not my home state, but my country and my roots, and it's shocking to bear witness from a distance and be served details on a regular basis such that we can only stand and weep.
It's enough to make one stop working altogether and wonder how those poor buggers are faring. The least I can do is stay true to my course, and maybe then be able to offer my voice and my pen in ways that are meaningful and true.
Interruptions be damned! You will not have your natural impact for long.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Day 6: Clear the path
One of the disadvantages of freelance work is having to take care of the business side of things. The bills, follow-up phone calls, returned communications, appointment making, and incidental tasks. Yes, even while on sabbatical.
Such tasks are essential to success and simply have to get done, but they can become distractions and be easily overlooked if you let them.
So today, I didn't let them. I took care of them and crossed them off my list so I could clear the path and get back to business.
Check and check. Nice!
Such tasks are essential to success and simply have to get done, but they can become distractions and be easily overlooked if you let them.
So today, I didn't let them. I took care of them and crossed them off my list so I could clear the path and get back to business.
Check and check. Nice!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Day 5: Draft this!
Another successful day, with many new discoveries.
A scheduled hour a day reading gives me plenty of time to get lost in and move through a fantastic book. And when that hour starts off my work day, it sets the tone for what is to come.
A scheduled hour a day editing one of my writing projects, especially after an hour of reading, surprises me with how easily it flows.
And then the main course - working on my speeches. The biggest discovery so far is how naturally they are all coming together. Yes, been a long journey to this point, and a great deal of acceptance on my part, but the result is more than a little inspiring.
Now that the primary, and in one case secondary, drafts are done, it's on to the next stage.
A scheduled hour a day reading gives me plenty of time to get lost in and move through a fantastic book. And when that hour starts off my work day, it sets the tone for what is to come.
A scheduled hour a day editing one of my writing projects, especially after an hour of reading, surprises me with how easily it flows.
And then the main course - working on my speeches. The biggest discovery so far is how naturally they are all coming together. Yes, been a long journey to this point, and a great deal of acceptance on my part, but the result is more than a little inspiring.
Now that the primary, and in one case secondary, drafts are done, it's on to the next stage.
Day 4: Let me just say this
For some people, TV is an enormous waste of time and a huge distraction. However, I find it a useful tool for thinking and writing, creating and exploring.
The internet and all its various playthings? Not so much, and I've learned the value of ignoring them, other than scheduled check-ins twice a day.
It's amazing how much work I get done when I use the TV as a creative tool. I turn it off when I am reading - as in quietly from a book, or loudly while editing one of my projects - and when I am rehearsing - as in a speech or a "let me hear how that truly sounds" moment.
The projects I am currently focusing on for this sabbatical are diverse and exciting, and I need a multitude of media to make it all work for me.
So, let me just say this to all those who consider TV an enormous waste of time ... there is a lot of junk out there, but if you plan your viewing to match what you are doing, you might surprise yourself - as I did - at not only how much you get done, but how well it works when you do turn the TV off.
The internet and all its various playthings? Not so much, and I've learned the value of ignoring them, other than scheduled check-ins twice a day.
It's amazing how much work I get done when I use the TV as a creative tool. I turn it off when I am reading - as in quietly from a book, or loudly while editing one of my projects - and when I am rehearsing - as in a speech or a "let me hear how that truly sounds" moment.
The projects I am currently focusing on for this sabbatical are diverse and exciting, and I need a multitude of media to make it all work for me.
So, let me just say this to all those who consider TV an enormous waste of time ... there is a lot of junk out there, but if you plan your viewing to match what you are doing, you might surprise yourself - as I did - at not only how much you get done, but how well it works when you do turn the TV off.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Day 3: Bring on tomorrow
Okay, okay! I know I should have, but I didn't. Instead, spent the day watching the Lord of the Rings. The entire trilogy, extended version. The only way to round out the last day before an intense few weeks crafting the written word into something wonderful. It was great seeing our friends again after so many years contemplating this moment. Throughout it all, we shed tears, sent up cheers, and held some fears for our own world that on some days and in many ways seems to have gone completely mad. May a new fellowship light our way and lighten our hearts during our own journey in pursuit of peace, love and freedom for all.
And now I am ready. Bring on tomorrow!
And now I am ready. Bring on tomorrow!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Day 2: A welcome sidestep
Research. A full day of it. In ways that were both unexpected and incredibly insightful. Can't wait to continue this tomorrow, and then get stuck into the nitty gritty on Tuesday.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Day 1: And so it begins
Here we are on day one of the official last days of my year-long sabbatical. A plan set toward success that, although periodically beset by random distractions and time substitutions, has seen me, for the most part, stay the course on a new professional track. "To where?" you may ask. Well, let's just say that words will have a lot to do with it, if all goes the way I want.
However, it may all be for naught if I don't successfully navigate January with intent and purpose and a 100% commitment. As much fun as a sabbatical is, you do need to have something to show at the end of it, or run the risk of it being interpreted by some as an excuse to apparently do nothing much for a declared amount of time.
Not that I am easily deterred by what some might think - not now, anyway. It's all about what I can make happen, so stay tuned as I forge ahead.
And it all starts with getting a good night's sleep. Hmmm. Guess I should have thought of that last night. Oh well. Better late than never. And there are still 30 days to go ....
However, it may all be for naught if I don't successfully navigate January with intent and purpose and a 100% commitment. As much fun as a sabbatical is, you do need to have something to show at the end of it, or run the risk of it being interpreted by some as an excuse to apparently do nothing much for a declared amount of time.
Not that I am easily deterred by what some might think - not now, anyway. It's all about what I can make happen, so stay tuned as I forge ahead.
And it all starts with getting a good night's sleep. Hmmm. Guess I should have thought of that last night. Oh well. Better late than never. And there are still 30 days to go ....