I hear he also does balloon animals

Only on Ebay. I love it.

Mandala Meditation Monday #5

Today, I awoke at 6am. This is after waking a couple of times during the night to hear my wheezing, coughing, spluttering, cold-flu laden husband beside me. And my teeth ground again as I waited for the signature tempo of his particular cough (boo-gi-doo...boo, that's how it goes, rhymically, infuriatingly consistently rhythmically, just like that for hour upon hour - sorry, Stoive).

I don't want to be sick again. I am so exhausted from being run-down, I seem to catch everything. I passed a woman in the supermarket today who sounded - and looked - as if she was trying really hard to barf up one of her lungs while keeping her breakfast down (tricky!) and I was standing there thinking, "Why? Why my aisle, lady??" because catching a cold this year for me has been as easy as passing someone with a sniffle.

I have been baffled by the number of times I've had a cold - different colds - and their intensity and duration, have lost count of how many but let's just say I have been consistently ill since March, with little more than a two week break in between each 1-2 week-long (or more) illness.

Okay. That's the backstory. Now, to today's wake-up call.... which came at 6am.

When I woke at various times through my restless night, I felt a pull to get up and "work" energetically. By the time I woke just before dawn (it was before 6am, although I don't exactly know what time it was), I could tell that I was being drawn out of bed to seek some clarity/healing on this ongoing catching of colds thing. I think partly because Steve was rattling next to me (and I was hiding my nose and mouth under the bedsheet to try and filter any air-borne germs coming from his direction, even going so far as to put the sheet over him and explaining I was giving him a "Michael Jackson facemask" and he mumbled something sleepily about getting into his hyperbaric chamber... he's funny even when he's got man-flu!). And still, I drifted back to a light sleep, trying to ignore the increasing mucus in my head and grating sore throat I was now swallowing against.

The pull woke me again. I got up. This was not being responsible! This is the thing with this work - once you know there are alternative (energetic/energenetic) ways of seeing a situation, an illness, an infraction, a dynamic between yourself and someone else, you sort of have to see it to its conclusion as best you can. It's an interesting thing.

Anyway, I went straight to my latest Energenetic manual from last Wednesday. In it, we were given symbols (strange-looking almost hieroglyphic in design, many of them) pertaining to the main types of RNA and DNA viruses. I looked up the Amber Chart of Virus Prevention and found the one for colds. A funny sort of cochlear type shape, sitting on the Amber-Blue line.

I should probably go and further hunt out a Blue Ray mandala and I may do that yet, though time is pressing now, but I was blown away by the text for this particular symbol anyway and wanted to bed it here, in my blog, so that I can stay close to its lesson (for me). I thought I would share it if only as part of my ongoing "story" of discovery along these Universal/Energenetic/Colour Healing lines and to sort of document it, if in fact I manage to stick to the correct procedure/s and do a complete and effective 'viral vacuum' and rid myself of being so prone to this particular type of affliction.

I won't give the symbol, as I am not permitted to do so at this stage. But the text is what is so amazing, anyway, as when I read it, I could have sworn it had been written directly to me at this point in my life... Makes so much sense, you know when things you read seem to be speaking directly to you? Such a gift to be able to be reminded in this way of the things we surely all innately, anciently know.

AMBER/BLUE:

May you once again hear the conviction of your faith that will provide you with a protective sheath of hope and the discipline with which to hold the hopes of many. The burden of knowing you have let many down in the past has dawned grey skies for your ideals. You must rise above the suffering you have long experienced because of your "wagering" hope. This suffering, however, has rightly earned you the duty of being consistent in your responsibility towards your spiritual cause. You can gain some relief from the long walk by closing the door against your lengthy concentration on yourself and your own lack. Realise that humour and light heartedness are the voices of the free spirit. If you can bring yourself to give from your free-spirited heart rather than from the burden of duty, you will find your walk in life is lighter and far less burdensome.

Here you have spent many lifetimes enduring learning from every facet of your soul's chosen lesson and the concerns that show up at this point will span many lifetimes of your experiencing repetition of the same energenetic patterns. Drawing your gifts and abilities from all of this will be very draining for you and this could cause you to hesitate meeting the final clause of your spiritual cause. If you close the door to the burdening pattern of these many lifetimes, you will begin to experience the enlivenment of one who, after a long journey, sees the lights of home in the near distance. Give yourself, this weary traveller, the refreshment of aspiration with this Symbol!

Now, many of you reading may not know me on a deeper level than by way of this blog. What makes me tick - really - but I have to say, that previous passage there just about sums me up at this moment in time. I have said so many times of late that I am "stuck" - mostly pertaining to writing my book - and to know me also knows this great burden I seem to lug around, as if I am the world's worst because of one trespass I may have made however many moons ago.

It has worn me/ground me down to this point. And I am so grateful to be given this focus in written form, which I have sought out myself and not been handed on a platter by anyone doing my want for wellness for me. I don't know if this means the end of colds (or at least, so many or at least... until the end of the year *sob* one can only hope). Regardless, I have something to hold myself up to for the next while. A point of reference for where I am now. And a glimmer of insight into why and how I have come to be where I am.

This is why I love this other work that I do so much. For these pearls of wisdom. A "simple" series of colds and poor timing of opening my mouth and breathing in it may be to some. But to me, it is a tangible, obvious signal that times are a-changing for me. The same realisations are really there for everyone, if they choose to do the work and seek the answers. (Mind you, I could also just keep soldiering on with Codral through them all, too! I am just a glutton for hard work and truth-seeking and prefer to do it this way)

The long and short of it

I turned three again yesterday. Says so by the number of candles on the cake (shuddup!). The LGBB made it with her Nana and Pa, who stayed with her for a couple of days while we weren't here. And she couldn't wait until Saturday to do The Big Reveal of the cake, so I got it on Friday night when we arrived home.

Steve and I went away to a place down the Great Ocean Road called Apollo Bay. We stayed at Chocolate Gannets. I think I want to move there. I'd certainly love to steal their view.








The unit we stayed in was one of four. It had a separate spa room that was flanked by a double-sided fireplace, which we lit up after a relaxing stroll through the town. We brought dinner back, watched a bit of telly while we ate, read in peaceful, luxurious silence, chatted, laughed our asses off. When it got late, we turned off all the lights and then hopped in the spa. And oh my God... all the stars in the sky came out. We could see galaxies inside the Milky Way. Millions of stars. It was phenomenal, least of all because we were sitting in this amazing space that felt so indulgent yet was so simple. You never really realise how many stars are in the sky and how bright they are, if you live anywhere near a city or built-up area. I felt rather intimidated and very small in relation to the sheer expanse of it. Reminded me there's a whole other universe just out there.

I struggled there and back in the car. My back is, even now, still biting. But I had another massage yesterday which eased it even more. I am dealing with a years-long aggravation here that just had too much and finally snapped. It happens. The time away didn't leave me much of a chance to relax my back - the only time I am not in pain is flat on my back on the floor - but I did get some time at dawn, early the next morning before we left, to work through a couple of healing procedures. The main thing I received from it (I won't bore with the details of how and what it involves, but it was on the Green - heart - Ray) was that I "get in the way". Given that my main focus of working to the bottom of this current back issue relates to a father-daughter issue (collective consciousness speaking, not just me and my Dad or Steve and the LGBB, I hasten to clarify), I daresay that one-liner delivered to me was eluding to my "getting in the way" of Steve and his interactions (good or disciplinary) with the LGBB. Something for me to continue to work on and think about and watch.

I sat by myself and enjoyed the sunrise over the ocean. It was, quite simply, breathtaking. And then, while we were relaxing after breakfast, with the TV on to play one of the obligatory crappy holiday getaway place CD's you inevitably always find in these places, Steve was looking at the screen and suddenly exclaimed, "Michael Jackson's dead!"

I can't actually describe why it is that I feel so sad about this. I am not a fan. Although I will hasten to say that I adore The Jackson 5's music. Hell, with all that heartache they apparently went through, I think we owe it to them to keep enjoying it. It is sad, how tortured the guy was. But man, what talent. Genius. He sort of lost me by the time he did Black Or White. But certainly, all his early 80's stuff is so foot-tapping! I think the thing for me is, his songs were always there. There was so much airplay when I was growing up. Music is such a constant. A real "soundtrack of our lives". So when someone who makes popular music dies, I feel saddened - it's going to be different, hearing his songs now and knowing he's gone, which is weird because it's not like I ever think about him (or anyone much) whose music I listen to. It's the same with The Beatles, John Lennon's solo music and even The Mama's and the Papa's. I find myself thinking about the lost members of groups when I listen to their music.

So. Anyway. We had a great time away. Much needed and couldn't have come soon enough. It was a joint 10th wedding anniversary (belated) and birthday present-ish extravagance, the likes of which we don't often give ourselves. But we have vowed to continue to make time, throughout the endless weeks, to spend time alone. Together. It is a must.

Going quite out of my mind

I did something to my back on Saturday. I worked solidly at the computer over Thursday and Friday to complete some editing work I had been assigned. I was lazy about the setup of my arms-chair posture (a certain reader will be well aware of the ideal posture and could probably repeat it on command, as can I, having worked for this same client - an Occupational Therapist - for over four years!).

I should have known, after all these years with this weakened back (damnit, it was fine before that car accident when I was 19!!), that I don't get away with things like shitty posture for any length of time. I should have taken more care. But even I could not have known that it would result in swelling in one of my middle vertebrae that feel like my spine has been stuffed with a sock over an area at least 5cm long. I've got intermittent pain that ranges from sharp stabs and dull throbs through to tingling and prickling sensations that are shooting from that area to my back and, more scary, to my fingers. Plus this weird muscle tightening down one leg and into my ankle. Add to this the fact that I can't stay in one position (get comfortable) for more than about a minute at a time and I'd say confidently I've definitely got a nerve involved, at least one.

Usually, I truck right on through a good dose of ol' back pain, but not this time. It doesn't happen often but about once a year, I do get afflicted like this from some sort of postural or repetitive strain injury. So, no.... nothing "romantic" or adventurous like bedroom acrobatics can be attributed to the cause, I'm afraid. Sorry to disappoint ;P

I am just slowly going out of my brain, though. I have a good knack, usually, for compartmentalising discomfort - kind of a pain (of the physical or emotional kind) management technique, I guess - but this is too huge for my mind to overcome and just breathe through til it passes. I did try drugs for it (Nurofen Plus did NUTTIN' and neither did the Panadeine) and now, four days later, even hotpacks are not doing much. The masseuse I managed to secure an appointment with at 10.30 today cancelled on me. At 9.30. I shed a little silent tear hearing her voice message.

So now, I am eagerly anticipating having some of this pain and pressure eased at 6 o'clock tonight at my rescheduled appointment. Please, please, please let it be treatable in one session..... I know. I'm thinking wishfully, but I live in hope.

And added to this injury is the fact that I will be making my drive up to Peace Space tomorrow at 6.30am for a 13 hour day - Energenetics III is on.

The Wedding Singer

After an extremely trying weekend with the LGBB (she is getting over conjunctivitis, has dropped her afternoon nap, was wired from a late, exciting night on Friday with one of her favourite people who came to babysit and just generally wanted us to bite the big one, the poor darlin') Steve and I decided that it wouldn't hurt for us to put on a new movie for her last night at about 5.30.

We'd been playing around the house, cagily tiptoeing around our small charge and just waiting for her to trip her wire again and go into meltdown - it really was a weekend of confusion for all of us (she because she obviously couldn't cope or verbalise with why she couldn't cope and just refused to slow down/sleep, and us because we had to work really hard not to yell.... and I'm afraid I did a few times, despite trying to let it slide).

The movie she pulled out of the drawer and was insistent on Steve putting on?

The Wedding Singer.

It was the moment of comedy relief that we needed. The opening credits came up, interspersed with images of Adam Sandler in his role as the wedding singer. And the LGBB sat up straighter. "Hey!" she said. "Who's dat?"


"Oh, that's Daddy... when he was younger," I said. I have no idea why I said it.

Well that was it. She was firmly convinced from then on that she was watching her Dad playing a gig at someone's wedding. And the bit that got me laughing, despite the intense weekend behind us? Steve says to me, "Two can play at this game" and tells the LGBB, "Yeah and there's Mummy, see?"

And he points to the keyboard player Boy George lookalike dude...ette... and Lolly believes him!

"There you are again, Mummy!" she said excitedly.

"Give me tiiiime, tooooo realise my criiiiiime....."
That's me, in the background on left.

Wax on, wax AHAHAHAOWWWFF

Word of advice:

If one has spent the afternoon being "seen to" by a distracted Beautician who loves to regale one with tales of her latest male companions and gets all caught up in the sound of her own voice, be sure to remember that one is likely going to come away with barely a snifter of hair left if one has booked a respectable XX bikini wax.

Furthermore, if one has felt skin that was previously tucked discreetly inside one's underpants suddenly burst outside at the ripping away of the hot wax, it should be presumed that the Beautician hasn't applied the soothing after-cream to that region very closely... because that's getting into a risqué sort of Lohan/Hilton type area. This will mean that one's "Nethers" are going to still have the odd bit of wax attached to skin. Raw, traumatised skin.

So if one leaves it to the last moment before racing to the bathroom to relieve oneself, be wary of pulling the underpants slowwwwwwwly down because, guaranteed, those pants are now stuck to the leftover wax, which is attached to the traumatised skin. It goes without saying, therefore, that one needs to execute great care. Otherwise, one's visiting parents-in-law are more than likely to hear one's whinnies of pain followed by a thinly disguised expletive.

And here endeth the lesson, Daniel-san.

Many may not agree

However.... I do believe these are amongst the best lyrics, from one of the most poignant songs, EVER!

I introduced it to the LGBB today - it's on a little CD I picked up this week for kids - and I was reduced to happy tears. It is such a gorgeous song. Nobody sings it better than Jim Henson. Where were you when you heard he had died? Do you remember? Did you know who he was and did it affect you in any way? I found out on the tv, I think I was about 15. And then, about an hour later, my mother came back home and told us our dear doggy had been hit and killed by a car! Double whammy!! That was one of the saddest days of my teenage years.

I've always loved this song. Who knew that in my adult years I would be working with colours (all the colours of the 'bow!) to carve out a path of healing for myself, 'eh? And when I look at the words now, I just think Mr Henson is even more of a gifted genius than I did in my youth. The guy had a way with words - he is spot on the money in this song, anyway, for mine.

Did you know, last month was the 19th anniversary of his death. And his work continues (though in my eyes, nobody has come close to doing the voices of his beloved Muppets as well as he could). What a visionary! And what a legacy.

Just. Can't. Sing along with The Frog and not get choked up!

Rainbow Connection
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The Rainbow Connection
Why are there so many
Songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions
But only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide
So we've been told and some choose to
believe it
I know they're wrong wait and see

Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

Who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
And look what it's done so far
What's so amazing
That keeps us star gazing?
And what do we think we might see?

Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers the dreamers and me

All of us under its spell,
We know that it's probably magic.

Have you been fast asleep
And have you heard voices,
I've heard them calling my name,
Is this the sweet sound that calls
The young sailors,
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm s'posed to be,

Someday we'll find it
The rainbow connection...
The lovers, the dreamers and me
La da da dee da da doo, la da da dee da dee da doo

(Also, best final note of any song ever!! LOL)

For the Old School Geek in all of us

You'd better believe I gots me some bargains at my local Officeworks in order to plot my new combined characters (and a whole new timeline too, which will make it look like a completely different book in some respects, to those who have read the first draft - Steve calls it the 'Director's Cut' because of its current length and tedium).

The woman who served me was a closet new stationery junkie like me. It took me nearly thirty minutes to browse the store, even though I had long since chosen my stack of index cards... and OMG they were a find in themselves; imagine my sheer delight when, after deciding I really could not justify the extra $5 for the 500 white ones when yellow cards would be just as suitable - and then when I pulled the yellow ones off the shelf, I let out an "EEEP!" because there's more colours in the box!! Yeahhhhh!

And then, the register woman asks me if I've seen the clearance highlighters - four for .40c. Why no, I say, trying to act casual and sounding as nonchalant as Homer Simpson when he attempts to downplay his excitement (ie. not very). Where, pray tell, are these?

She knew by the excited whites of my eyes that I was as gone as her. She led me to the rack where just four packets remained underneath the clearance ticket. I took two packets. She took the last two, hastily justifying that the three she'd already bought would only go around her kids and she wanted some for herself..... And then we bellowed with laughter at each other. I grabbed a two-pack of liquid highlighters as well, marked down to $5.00 (those really cool Artline ones that look like biro's but have two edges - a fine tip and the usual thick edge - which I can think of a dozen uses for, now that I have some, even though I was living my life just fine without them).

Who knew that discount stationery is to some as a bottle of tequila in the linen cupboard is to others??

I'm not ashamed of my stationery obsession. Just don't ask me to explain it. If you ever see a woman flat on her back making 'snow' angels in a bin of clearance exercise books (OMG they're 10c for 96-page books right now, go and buy some!!), that'll be me. And only then do I grant you permission to organise an intervention.

Oh wow!

I had a refocus sesh last night at my gym. Although I've noticed changes in my clothing, I hadn't properly kept tabs on my starting point compared to where I am, measurement-wise, right now.

I've lost 7cm's off my thighs in under five months! That's awesome, if I do say so my darn self. Not to mention reductions in all the other right places, but this was the most exciting to me.

I thought I was wearing out the upper inside legs of pants less frequently than in the past couple of years.....

Mandala Meditation Monday #4

Upstairs told me to work with this mandala today before I even rose for the day.

"Number 22" was what I heard. I've just gone and found it, I guess it's today's Monday Meditation Mandala!

I've been working on my book today, steeped in concentration. I only stopped just now because, well, one "duty" called and I had to use the bathroom, but secondly, I felt like I needed a breather. It's heavy going. I just went past Ellanor's birth (in the book) and I gave myself the time to read it again. Hahhh. Beautiful, but ... well, you know. To come in here and read this has just been so mind-blowing in its confirmation and encouragement, not only that I pulled the right one out for me for today but also in its practical application. I have definitely taken my breather, utilising it, and feel ready and filled up again. I'm going to put it in to my pattern and let it carry me today. I find Blue ones really do that anyway.

So here is today's mandala and meditation. It's pretty self-explanatory (I can certainly see its pertinence for me today) and I hope one of you gets something nurturing from it too. You can ask for the stone essence to be placed in your pattern, you can read the words, you can look at the mandala pattern... feel free to do any and all (or none, or something different) those things. Mostly, whatever you're doing and wherever you are today, I hope you're treating yourself well.



22. The SOCIAL SYMMETRY

the colour of...SPECTRUM BLUE
the sound chord of …D minor
the essence of...ALBITE...Associated with maturity and balancing for those involved in furthering the spiritual development of others, ALBITE keeps one from becoming martyred, overly involved and depreciative of oneself and aids the expression of grief. It helps activate feminine qualities. ALBITE assists in the assimilation of silica and silicon and strengthens the spleen and thymus. It especially strengthens the lungs, increasing their oxygenation (so reducing susceptibility to respiratory ills) and treating skin and blood disorders that require increased oxygenation. ALBITE restimulates the immune system and aligns the neurological aspects of the spine.

While you are working within group-consciousness on issues pertaining to your Spirit-led social cause, this Mandala will assist you to shift your old social patternings and stand in the integrity of your truth. This Mandala will help you stand in the strength of your beliefs and views, whilst you are in the midst of all your social interactions, so that you are not intruded upon or overwhelmed by the effect that another’s truth has upon you. This will be particularly important when your new learning and understanding require that you steadily close old ways and “do as you must do” whilst, at the same time, allow others to do as they must do.

Here you will find that your old emotional bonds will have to be broken, so that your keenness to genuinely care-take becomes your opportunity to contribute to your spiritual cause. Your feelings will monitor the signals you receive from your senses and, if your emotional reactions emanate from a healthy self-acceptance, your service to your cause can then flow smoothly and effectively. Your contract of being a sensitive in a physical world is about being aware, single-minded and willing to undergo a passage of experience with compassion and in faithful trust.

This Mandala will indicate that you need to contain your care towards your service. If you maintain your stability in this area, optimum results will be produced from your care. If, however, you feel overburdened by work or caring, this Mandala will lift you from this shadow by uniting the care you carry with your higher ideals. This will give you the sense that your conscious self is connected with your higher knowing. This Mandala will activate your sensibility and your onus to your service and separate you from presuming to own the curative process.

This Mandala will call upon the coolness of the energy of the Female Christ Consciousness to bathe the wounds, despair and suffering of the world. And it will cup the waters of your caring to pool your peaceful healing flow so that you can carefully consider what your cause really is.

The perceptional state represented by this Mandala will also help prevent your becoming caught in the net of seeking admiration, or adoration, because of your spiritual commitment, or reefed upon the hooks of others’ expectations or manipulations. You will have to be very sure that you provide yourself with much space in which to evaluate your service. The peace of your placement will ensure you a steady passage and this will provide for your personal pleasure as well as your purpose.

The procession of your expression of caring will require your mind to be open so that you can push beyond the boundaries of your old procedures. It will also require you to have a pliable affinity with the "old way” (of physical law) and the "new way" (of spiritual lore). The wisdom that will be returned to you from the way you have worked with both physical law and spiritual lore will dawn your androgynous♥ care to the world. You should honour every method, for they all meet eventually.



♥ i.e., non co-dependent

Early Winter

Can't get this song out of my head. I LOVE IT. And I'm not even that keen on Gwen Stefani (can take her or leave her either way). But wow. I just love this song, it gets in my head and haunts it!

Why?

I think it's that chorus and perhaps the bridge.... it's so beautiful and yearning. You can't really hear it on tinny computer speakers in this YT version, but she really sings it like she's crying by the end and oh, man, it just gets me there in my heart. Ouch. And it's much more punchy through a set of awesome speakers (thangewe, Steve, for your sensible if not cumbersome circa 1970's "They don't make them like this anymore" subwoofer and banging bass speakers - I know I complain about the fact that they are 15 metres long, ok slight exaggeration, and I wish they weren't black and so dense that I'd break my toe if I stubbed it accidentally on one of them... but wow they make songs sound so much better, you're right).

You, you know how to get me solo
My heart had a crash when we spoke
I cant fix what you broke
And you, you always have a reason
Again and again this feelin
Why do I give in

And I always was, always was one for cryin
I always was one for tears

[Chorus]
The suns getting cold, its snowin
Looks like an early winter for us
Looks like an early winter for us
An early winter, oh why did you deter me over

You said the map of the world is on you
The moon gravitates around you
The seasons escape you

And I always was, always was one for cryin
I always was one for tears
No I never was, never was one for lyin
You lied to me all these years

[Chorus]

Why, why do you act so stupid
Why, you know Im always right

Looks like an early winter for us
It hurts and I cant remember sunlight
An early winter for us
The leaves are changing colors
Starting over and over and over again
Starting over and over and over again
Well it looks like an early winter for us
It looks like an early winter for us

From Leo's Lyrics

Another book update

I didn't suppose it would be as easy as lumping a 300-something page manuscript on my Editor's lap and saying, "There y'are, 'sall done! Can I say I'm finished now?"

But on the other hand..... I had kind of silently said a quick prayer to Ella herself that I was close.

I had another meeting with Meg on Thursday. This meeting was different to the first one. This meeting came with the knowledge that she had delved around in my innermost thoughts, as I have them on the paper that I gave her, and she knew so much more about me, about our journey, about our daughter.

"You aren't nearly finished yet, you know," she said to me with a slight smirk. Oh noooooo!
"Oh?"
"Nope. And I really think it needs to finish here," and she proceeded to tell me where (shhhh that's a secret, you don't really think I'd tell you here, did you!?)

I was keen to hear how this perfect stranger would provide her feedback. Would she ruffle my feathers? Would she take a tissue to a single tear threatening to fall as she grabbed my wrist and gave me a look that said, "Oh my goodness! What a trip that was!" Would she tell me it was so horrendous that I was full of my own steam and it'd never go anywhere?

Well. I'm so humbly relieved to hear that... I really have a story here. I truly have a shot at getting this book all the way. It's going to be tougher than I thought getting there - I didn't really expect it would be easy, I always do things (or want to do things) the hard way, the struggling way, for that is how so much of my life has felt: a struggle, an endurance, requiring great stamina and perseverance. I see this challenge of creating a masterfully constructed memoir as no different.

"You have to pare it back though," she said to me. Strip it, I believe she said in order to clarify. Skin it, I was hearing. "There are far too many characters, they need to be merged or turfed."

An interesting, exciting and affirming prospect to me! This takes care of so many issues, not least of which is the old protection of people's privacy thing. I am going to be merging several people - good, bad, ugly - into one or two characters. It will make for a far more streamlined delivery of all the good and unhelpful things that happened to us. They are part of the story, but their identities can both be protected and blended into, say, a more rounded character - for it is true, we have had people who have been blindly supportive (I say 'blind' to illustrate their inability to see that their support has been anything but) in their comments and attendance to us and we have also had the most wonderful people grace our lives, come and go, give and leave without ever expecting to take.... These are the sacrificial characters that are going to have to be melded with the other, less helpful/supportive ones, in order to create a more positive-negative person (or couple of people).

My task as it stands now is to write out my mother altogether (she is a character who is rarely mentioned and really disrupts the flow, more than anything, because I felt the need to tell backstory in relation to her - I am so relieved to see now, through Meg's critical, objective eyes, that she can go). I must also do a timeline and pick out the path through the narrative. Apparently, I do narrative quite well *nonchalant fingernail buff on shoulder* and it creates a speedy trajectory that propels the reader to... well, read. I must also literally pull the story apart and divvy it up into groups (new Word documents), creating themes. There are several strong, important themes that Meg has seen - and I can't go into them here, I have to keep some things about it a mystery so that you all still want to read it! - and she has suggested it will work very well to follow several of these threads, including the characters involved, as if they were separate stories. All converging or crossing at one point: Me.

What I will hopefully end up with is Acts in a play. That's what I'm now aiming for. And it's what I'm about to head to the loungeroom floor with my texta's and large A2 paper and notes from Meg to do. Timelines and working out these so-called Acts.

The one thing that is ringing in my ears, though, is that - according to Meg - there are intrinsic, core commentaries that are subtle yet loud. She said, "It is a model. It is a model of how to behave towards someone who's going through or been through something similar."

And that, dear reader, was the sweetest music to my ears. To know that simply through telling our story, respectfully and tactfully, this message comes across loud and clear .... well, I couldn't pay enough money in the world to thank her for saying, completely unprompted, what I consider to be a massive compliment. To think my book will be helpful... that is really the only reason I am doing this at all. So it's just as well she can see it already! Otherwise, my passion for moving forward might have continued to wane and waver.

Construction-wise, there is a ways to go. But it is so heartening to be finally convinced that I have something special here. Oh my God! How excitement.

I have to say, I'm excited. It's daunting, it's bloody exhausting in fact.... but I am so excited. I haven't had this much of an injection of hope for some months. It has been so timely and so refreshing to hear respectful, yet critical, comment and suggestions of a way forward from someone completely outside of my circle.

Toddler conversations: Our favourite shows

Driving home today, I was informed by the LGBB that when we got home, she wanted to "curl up on the couch with my banana bread and my blanket and my favourite one." Very decisive she was. I was about to ask her what her "favourite one" was when she began again.

"Because Mummy's favourite one is on the telly. And my favourite one has Law-weli in it. And Rory."

Ah. It all makes sense now. Gilmore Girls. Of course.

I've been telling her my "favourite one" is Sex and the City when the ads come on the Foxbox. She now sees the characters and calls out, "Mu-uum, it's your fri-eeends." I guess it was time I grew up and moved to New York with the grown-up girls. When I asked her if the Gilmore girls could be my friends too, I was told decidedly, "No." Without a moment's hesitation.

Sheesh. Those toddlers, man. You can't argue with them.

I said love, I said pet, I said...

"Rake this whole yard before dinner!"

And she gave it her best shot, God luv 'er.



This was our front lawn the weekend before last, already half-raked. Take a look at that photo and then read again: Already half-raked!! That's a lotta leaves right there.

Looking at it today, it's hard to believe the final leaf dump has been, gone and disappeared. When I stand under the tree and look up into its branches, I find it so hard to believe that so many leaves come and go each year. It's so, so, incredibly beautiful.

It's one of those "no matter what, nature happens" things. Like when you're steeped in the grief of realising that day after day after merciless day is going to keep coming, regardless of whether your child has now passed, and you just have to look at things like waves on the shore - or a magnificent beast like this tree - and say to yourself, "What's the point in your popping off the mortal coil too? This tree will still be losing and gaining leaves, regardless."

And that is when you roll your sleeves up and begin to slowly look to the beauty of these natural wonders - they are EVERYWHERE, all around us, year round - to help you recuperate. Healing and nurture and effervescence is to be found here. Not in other people, for they are not constant.

No. It is here. In Mother Nature. Where you are spun into your wholeness once again.

Goodbye, sweet Autumn! Until next year.

It went in fizzy

Oh my GOD. I just remembered something else I said. I was (so I thought) coherent and sobered up and it was daylight.

And I came out to my friends after visiting the toilet in a most unsavoury manner. Do you know what I inflicted on them?

"It went in fizzy.... and it came OUT fizzy! But lost its colour. How did THAT HAPPEN???"

And then I promptly went and lay horizontal again for another four hours because I couldn't open my eyes another minute.

How can they still love me after THAT?!?? But they did, they do and they're probably still laughing at me too.

Hot tips

#1 - It's possibly not a good idea to boast admit to your girlfriends at the beginning of your girly weekend that you've never had a rip snorting hangover in your life. No, not even in your silly late teen/early 20's years.

#2 - Think twice about going too hard if you've already got a virus in your system.

#3 - Definitely not a good idea to drink over a 12 hour period and only have a light meal somewhere in there.

#4 - Totally bad to mix drinks.

#5 - Do not accept drinks from the bartender if she's a girlfriend *googly eyes* or else she will effectively ply you with - wait for it - half a bottle of vodka over the course of letting out the secret you've never told anyone face to face. It will make your tears pop out perpendicular to your face, for starters.

#6 - If you decide collectively to go out and have a dance, it's probably best not to leave after midnight. Especially so if you have just finished your D&M to end all D&M's.

#7 - Bit late to wonder to yourself how it was that you never had drunken nights quite like these as a younger lass, which leads to musing if you might have pulled up any better in a body that was fifteen years younger.

#8 - If you are going to have your very first ever alcohol-induced power chuck, remind yourself that the "feel better" high you're on as you saunter out to where your girlfriends have been sitting chatting, waiting for you to get up for the past 3 hours, is not going to last. You will also then have to stay home in your self-inflicted state while they go to Acland Street for brunch and stroll through the St Kilda market without you. Consoling yourself with the fact that, hey, at least you got to have a lie-in with Foxtel in the hotel room is optional at this point.

#9 - If you intend on letting them in on your revelation - "Now I know why I've never had a hangover. I just wasn't drinking enough" - be sure to realise they will forever more pin that on you as your new motto.

But mostly,

#10 - Make sure you take the time to make time and do this weekend away, without fail, every year from now on. Sans the drinking to the point of Rendered: Useless for a day, of course.

Never, ever again [cue gut-wrenching sigh with a grimace]

Good people. Seriously, unbelievably good and decent people exist in this world. I am so pleased and humbled these women have sauntered into mine.

My newest latest fave

One good blow and it's all over

You dirty, dirty Internet. I know what you were thinking when you saw that title.

I'm actually referring to the stuffed-up nose of a toddler. I am certain that most little kids' colds would clear up, or certainly not drag on for as long as they seem to, if only they knew how to give a good hard nose-blow into a tissue or hanky.

I mean, wouldn't it save a helluva lot of nose wiping?

Yeesh.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt

I am so busy right this week that I forgot what it was I was even going to take 5 to come in here and blog about.

Er..... Sorry 'bout that! Anyone else madder than a blue-arse fly with life right now?

Save for the mountain of housework staring at me and threatening to spill out the front and back doors if I don't get a move on (the LGBB's been "poorly", as she calls it, so I'm behind yet another day and have editing jobs on the pile-up that need attention on top of housework... and mother duties. Lucky Steve comes lucky last once again, well, that's to say "last" before me), it's business as usual here.

Ummmm. Anyway, as you were *tips cap and backs away*