Kismet

Last year a client gifted me this water filter, it's rather lovely isn't it? Anyways, we already had a built in filter and this one was taking premium counter space so i tried to sell it. I think I had about four interested parties but none of them ended up buying and knowing it's value I decided to just keep it until an opportunity presented itself.
Then the first born got the fluoride fixation, then I found that it's possible to buy a flouride filter to fit this jar. A single filter will be a lot cheaper than any kind of brand new filtration unit.
That leaves the problem of where to put it but with our imminent feng-shui furniture re-shuffle, I'm thinking we could maybe find room for a nice timber water stand.
I was talking about all this to the first born and his gf and they giggled like I was a mad woman but they can giggle. Call it divine intervention, fate, serendipity, kismet or providence, I think the whole scenario was designed for me.

the temporary conformity of a non-conformist

tonight my first born is off to his year 11 social, it's the watered down version of the year 12 formal (prom)
it's not a major milestone but it is a minor one.
he has dressed in a slightly too small jacket that belonged to my grandpa who died before the boy was born, a grey t-shirt (the girl friend specified white) new jeans and white canvas shoes, chosen by his chosen one and declared by him to be conformist. they will surely be ruined by the time he gets there by train this cold and wet night.
he toyed with the idea of spiking up his newly purple hair but then decided that he had enough smelly products on, what with cologne, deodorant and hair colour still wafting about.
it was all accessorised with a red rose procured with/by? a long walk in the rain and aided in sensual impact with additional rosewater.
it will be a late night and in his usual selfless style he has elected to get the last train home rather than have me pick him up on a work night. i did tell him to let me know if he changed his mind and his first question was whether i could take care of his mate who would otherwise be left alone.
the boy is well into his guitar and his girl, sending his mother into a panic over grades but he is already a good man and i wish him a well deserved wonderful night

He who opens a school door, closes a prison.

Back in my day, compulsory education ended at the end of year ten. The rules have changed a little bit but in my mind that is still basically how it works and this week Liam finished year ten.
He will go on to finish high school and he intends to go to uni as well so his formal education continues but I thought the end of his compulsory education would be a great time to reflect on the education that the Australian people, by way of our government, have given him.

It all started in about October of 1999. I took my little boy to orientation day at the local school, Narwee. I was delighted with the family atmosphere, the weatherboard buildings seemed welcoming, the playground had an organic feel about it, if I can say that. My delight with the school combined with the reality that my baby was growing up conspired to have me in tears for some time!
Waterworks over with , his first day of school the following January was not dramatic and he slipped easily into school life.
Those early years were marked by teachers who were kind and patient, they recognised the artistic talent that I didn't because I didn't have anyone to compare him to, they fostered his interest in the world, they supplied costumes for dress up day when his Mum forgot, most significantly they taught him to read and write, the basic skills he would need for a lifetime of learning.
As time went on there were so many opportunities offered to him through the school: he participated in athletics, soccer, choir and art workshops. He went on trips to farms and the zoo, to historic sites, gold panning, museums......I'm sure I have forgotten most of it.
All the while teachers helped him to build on his basic skills, teaching him to research, to read with insight and to construct different types of text.
The shift to high school at Hurstville boys High was smoothed by transition days and orientation programs, there was opportunity to play with a school band, to work in laboratories, art studios, and to learn wood and metal working skills in dedicated workshops. A trip to China last year and performing at the Opera House were highlights in the broadening horizons of my boy and his classmates.

The community of school life has been a continual source of interest to my aspiring psychologist, too. There were those sweet teachers in the early years, later there was the one who demanded that people with dirty mouths seek the dictionary meaning of their preferred curse or insult, the men who modelled discipline, integrity and sensitivity. The principal who read stories to the littlies and got the older boys working in the garden. There was the humour of Mr Farr, who would bestow the legendary Farr Cup on those who stuffed up. There was the extreme conservative who probably shouldn't have made his political views public but who has inspired my apolitical young man to engage just a little with federal politics.
There were volunteers who provided his in-school religious education and supported the schools by helping at special events, running fundraisers, providing extra supervision on excursions and listening to kids read.
Our public education system has given my boy (and his siblings following behind) a solid foundation. He has been exposed to so many opportunities that I probably couldn't have provided, he has a good general knowledge and knows how to pursue the things he wants to know, he has experienced literature, drama, music, visual arts, debate and understands intellectual rigour.
Eleven years of schooling have prepared Liam for continued study and for life's university. He can go forward as a rounded and discerning individual and for that, each and every teacher, support staff, volunteer and interested onlooker has my unfailing gratitude.

my boy is an everyday hero

several months back the boy, liam, declared that he would run the city 2 surf this year. he is determined to make and take all the opportunities he can in life and this was one he was eager to grab hold of.
"mum, should i run for a charity?" he said
"well, why not?" is my answer on that one, he's running anyway, he might as well try to drum up a little support for something.
he thought he would like to do something to help the bears in asia, the ones caged up so their bile can be milked. and so he signed up both for the race and to support the charity WSPA

he trained until he hurt his arm. then he rested.
he trained until he hurt his hip. and rested.
he trained until he re-injured the arm......

and so it went. his preparation has been doomed but he has maintained his focus and he will run anyway. he wont run to his potential but he will have a good time and what an experience, to run with 80 000 others!

today he was up at five, he showered and dressed as i made him porridge and a cup of tea. we enjoyed a few quiet moments together in a sleeping, pre-dawn house. he was cutting it fine so i drove him to the station. he missed the train but the next wasn't too far away.

so now i wait to hear tales of his big day. i wait and watch the lightening sky. it reminds me of the day he was born when i laboured long through the night. the rising sun gave me new strength for the birth. i reflect as i wait to see him home again, it seems the morning has always been his special time.

indulge a ridiculously proud mum and throw a dollar or two the way of the bears?

collection

my six foot baby boy went to china on tuesday and i expect it will be a grand adventure. he has gone on a school trip, tagging along with the mandarin students, keeping the numbers up and the costs down.
he has called a couple of times, the first he was obviously very happy and it was making him very silly. it was almost a relief when the call dropped out because i couldna make head nor tail of what he was telling me and i was being charged by the minute for the confusion!
yesterday they visited a place where they could watch a traditional style of weaving and liam was the only boy of the group to get out of the bus! yes, the boy visited a handcraft centre with a collection of girls. who knows what that did to his coolness rating with the boys but i was immensely, unbearably proud. proud that he stood up for what he wanted to do, proud that he made himself the odd one out in a bunch of teenaged girls who he doesn't know, proud that he recognised and took an opportunity he might never have again.

What a week!

This week I ironed my last grey school shirt. This time 9 years ago I was preparing to send my first born off to "big school". I couldn't bear to put him in a nasty grey shirt. A couple of years later Dimples followed his big bro to school. No.1 son duly graduated to high school and yesterday Dimples followed suit, hence the end of the grey shirts. Where did those 9 years go?

The whole school joined to form an arch which the year 6 kids walked under as their final farewell. It is an emotional day for the teachers, the parents, the graduating class and their friends in lower grades. Even the general assistant came out to mark the occasion.

To my surprise Dimples came out of the arch sobbing his little heart out but it didn't last long and don't tell him I said so ;)

Talking of school, the young 'uns have had a great year. No.1 son has been promoted to the extension classes for English and Science. He also had a glowing report which uses all those cliches I usually didn't qualify for: consistent, hard working, polite, talented .....

to top it off he was invited to join the school stage band.

Dimples finished his primary schooling with the admiration of his teachers because he didn't run away from school once this year! His peers voted him "drama queen" and he accepted graciously. That's progress.

The Princess received an award for consistent and conscientious effort. Her report was also glowing with praise.

The Tomboy was awarded for citizenship, her academic effort was good .....

all together I couldn't be more pleased.

The Princess complained of a sore mouth on Thursday night, by Friday she obviously had an abcess. She seemed to be going ok so I told her I would make a dentist appointment for the weekend and continued with my day. Half an hour later she was on the phone with a query about pain relief. The call to the dentist was moved forward, she was relievd of the problematic tooth and I was relieved of $100.

After feeling generally odd for a week or so I took myself off to the chiro for an extra appointment today. "Kylie, what have you done??" she asked me. I don't know what I did, only that her response made me think that at least I wasn't imagining this oddness I had been struggling with. She will probably never fix all of my oddness but I like to think I've been left with the endearing bit!

Finally, I went to the hairdressers for a decent colour treatment. It was a new hairdresser and she didn't listen to a word I said but she did alright with the colour and to the delight of my girls she blow dried my hair straight. I have never had straight hair. Ever. It's kind of nice actually, I could get used to it.

Don't forget that I'm giving $1 to Anglicare for every comment you make. Flattering, thoughtful, cheery, intelligent, even inane rubbish will benefit someone so go on......

write me!

thanks #9

These are my boys with their new cousin.

and my girls with his sister

I can't make up my mind which aspect of this I am thankful for, the tenderness of the boys which is heartbreakingly sweet, the joie de vivre of the girls, my fondness for my own cousins.....

Joy of all joys

Today was the first real day of the school holidays and all I can say is I hope it gets better. Instructions to feed the rabbits, put dishes in the sink and generally leave the place only moderately pig-sty-ish were left on the table when hubby and I left for work about 7.30am. My Mum and Dad picked everyone up around 10.00 and took them to the shops, then back to "Ma & Pa's"
Ma made Rocky road with the girls while the boys played on the computer and everyone was dropped home to play in their own neighborhood around 3.30.
From 3.30 things deteriorated. Miss P up the road (aged 12) was also home without supervision and she had instructions not to allow any "foreign" children into the house. Miss P talked our Tomboy into going inside, no drama yet, but also phoned some friends and invited them over.
Hubby and I came home to a sane household but at some stage no.1 son got in a right strop. Dimples can be rather obnoxious and self centred (to say the least) and today no.1 son had just had enough. Now no.1 son is a decent young fella but when he gets stroppy it's just a wee bit ugly. The strop seemed uncontrollable so I sent him to the spa (hot tub) for some warm-water-and-alone-time therapy. My plan was a dismal failure. The strop was undissolvable and then Miss P's mother showed up to tell us about the "no foreigners" rule. I agreed to reinforce the rule with my mob and Miss P's mother went off to reinforce it with Miss P.
My irrefutable, non-negotiable, no.1 piece of mother-wisdom says that cranky, naughty, difficult children are probably tired so I sent no.1 son to bed to sleep off his calamitous tantrum. I soon realised though, that I have deprived him of the chance to watch his favourite TV show: Southpark!
Oh no, I have probably condemned myself to a day of retribution for this terrible act of meanness.
So, there you go: Miss P has unauthorised visitors, no.1 son is snarly, Dimples is characteristically unrepentant for his contribution to events and there's only ten working days to go!
I had been thinking of posting on the Weekend Wandering topic "What brings you to tears?" and now I have. Unintentionally :)

5 year warranty

Last night I lay on No.1 son's bed with him and said "I want to write another post but I don't know what to do" He looked at the bed above him (he has the bottom of bunk beds) and reading the label on the mattress said "Restful bedding...... or 5 year warranty"
Hmmmm......
What would I like a five year warranty on?
What if someone could guarantee my houseplants to survive five years?
How about if people could maintain weight loss for five years?
Wouldn't it be good if pillows lasted five years? do your pillows go flat and awful in about two weeks?
Five years between pap tests? cool (sorry, fellas)
What about a hair colour that needed no maintenance for five years?
A lawn that only needs mowing every five years?
A petrol tank that only needs filling every five years......

Okay, now I'm just being silly but that's what I do best :)

What would you like a five year warranty on?

Thanks Muchly

I just have to tell everyone thank you so much for giving me a lovely birthday.
My wonderful children gave me lots of chocolates and a bunch of flowers picked from our garden, a work mate made me a spectacular paper orchid (well, that's what he said it was and I didn't have the heart to argue) friends called and texted, Mum & Dad dropped by for coffee, all you lovely bloggers made the kind of effort and fuss that I could only dream of and I started the year the way I expect to continue.....wondering what on earth to cook for dinner :)

Sydney is suffering a cold snap right now with overnight temperatures falling to single digits (please don't laugh if you are somewhere that gets seriously cold) No.1 son was at band camp for the weekend and tomorrow night is the concert, the tomboy has the "star of the week" award for her class and I have a day off on Friday. YAY

I'm Grateful.....

This week I have determined that I should collect all of my awards. When I think I have done that I'll let you know and if I have forgotten any you can let me know.

Bindi graciously bestowed this pretty award on me so I thought I'd make it true by practicing some gratitude.

Today I'm grateful for

• the sound of rain outside
• a job that allows me some flexibility
• a warm bed
• people to laugh with
• enough money for all that we need and much of what we want
• good health
• a beautiful bunch of dahlias on the coffee table
• the Tomboy's relentless joie de vivre
• the Princess's regular gifts to me....little letters & drawings and such like. The Tomboy will be offended if I don't recognise her offerings here, they're also wonderful.
• Dimples' general sweetness and exceptional potential
• No.1 son for our shared humour and his consistent appreciative eating of whatever I put in front of him
• the unwavering love of my "original" family

Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you.
Maori Proverb

Camel Racing

When the horse flu came to NSW it pretty well crippled the racing industry and the harness racing club at Harold Park started running camel races as a way of recouping some of their losses.
Now that the end to the flu crisis is in sight I realised that the camels won't be racing too many more times and decided to take the kids out there for a night.
Dimples and his father refused to come so the rest of us set out for an adventure. No. 1 son helped out with the navigation ( it's a long time since I've been to that part of the world) He did a superb job and we arrived just after the first race.
I have never been to a racecourse, or in this case paceway, before so that was new. We wandered down and took some seats right at the front.

The camels all had glittery sequin-styled saddle "blankets" and the compere was dressed up in a robe and fez.The camels are quite funny to watch when they race, they tend to swerve across the track, slow down and speed up unpredictably and only stop for their feed bucket.
At one point there was a delay between races so we went to get some drinks and snacks. While we were there I made an entry in a draw to ride a camel.
Some time later I received a phone call to say that my name had been drawn!

I lined up with my competition....a strong, fit young bloke who asked my strategy. My answer "to stay on" was closer to the truth than I could have imagined.
We signed our disclaimers and made our way down to collect our silks. The sight of the ambulance parked near the track suddenly became a bit uncomfortable.

The handlers asked if I had ridden a horse and when I said no they promised me a quiet animal. She had a fantastic glittery purple saddle cloth which was spectacularly fitting with my rainbow silks and lime green cap. The kids called across the track asking me what number I would be riding and I was so excited I couldn't remember how to hold up six fingers!

I hopped on and the handler walked us around for some time. I was waving and blowing kisses to the kids, having a grand old time. The MC announced to the whole crowd that "Kylie hasn't ridden anything for some time" What, do I have a tattoo or something? My camel man kept telling me that I would need to shout at this girl to get her to run.
We started wandering toward the start line and were still a distance away when Mr camel man turned us around, let go of the reins and shouted "GO"!!

My girl started to run, swerved left and my foot slipped out of the stirrup, swerved right and my helmet fell over my eyes.
"Hang on with your legs, hang on with your hands, squeeze with your legs and hang on tight" I told myself. It was like a mantra.
After the longest few seconds of my life she slowed down and I realised that I might just make it to the end. What had that guy said about shouting at her? I couldn't have done that even if I'd wanted to!
After about 15 seconds the race was over. Second last was good enough for me!
I wondered if my legs would hold me when I got down. I dismounted very slowly. It had been utterly terrifying. And exhilarating.
We all shook hands and had a photo. I handed my fabulous silks back and after that there was nothing left but to go home.
I have sore muscles and rainbow bruises to remind me of my stint as a champion camel jockey.
Would I do it again?
Does a camel spit?

eating: red jumbo snakes. yum.

Prototype

Did I say I would call No.1. son prototype?.....after Christmas Day when he insisted on wearing his new dressing gown all the time I'm thinking of Hugh (as in Hefner) :)

Christmas Eve

So much to say and so little time !
Where do I start ? Maybe just a general "Cheerio" today, giving me time to do the interesting stuff better some other day :)

I couldn't sleep last night and so I'm exhausted now but happy to have some blogging time.

After careful consideration and discussion with No.1 son I have decided on our Christmas menu:
Lunch will be turkey, salad, fresh bread, cranberry sauce followed by lemon meringue pies and berries with cream or ice cream.
Dinner will be cheese and pate followed by seafood as supplied by The Rolemodel & her hubby, with bread (yes, again) salad (yep) cheesecake from Dimitri's (mitri cake) fruit salad and cream.
Punch or Coke or iced tea for drinking.

About No.1 son....I have finally got a better nickname for him "Prototype"
While I'm talking of names I have two posts to come on that...hopefully early 2008.

After Christmas we're off down the coast to Husky for a couple of weeks camping and fishing (well, they'll fish and I'll do something else ) so I'll be a little quiet for a bit but back with a vengeance.

Onepic was a little confused? miffed? by my saying that his story was frustrating...well the light is showing at the end of the tunnel, so I take that back :) I just like happy endings and it wasn't happening so thats why I said that.

Well, don't eat too much
drink too much
fight with the rellies
or get sucked into any of the Christmas garbage.
Think about what Christmas means or if you're not keen on the religious part use the break to rest and restore.

Happy Christmas to all.