I was going to show you photos from my morning walk today. But I've run out of time to do anything meaningful.
So instead, please indulge me (or yourself) as I show you the moment this past week where our dear LGBB decided to play princesses with the two obliging doggies.
The Two Posing Show Ponies
Best. Kid-dog. Everrr.
Jazz poses like that forever if it means getting a photo taken
Not to be outdone, our old dog looks rather whimsical in pink. Don't you think?
Sweet 18 and never been....
Dear Pepper, she barely stood for this one
Was worth getting rained on to capture this one while waiting at the lights yesterday!
I was never really into rainbows as a kid. I mean I liked them, sure. But I didn't squeeee with delight. After Ella died, I did not associate seeing one with her, although I do respectfully acknowledge that the identity is there for so many bereaved parents and partners of lost loved ones.
It's only been since having our Lolly - and her being such a rainbow fiend, possibly thanks largely due to this book (and the sentiment seems to be spreading, see how Lori @ RRSAHM finds them...) - that I have really stopped to wonder about rainbows. See the wonder in them. Marvel at how they actually occur. Appreciate their colours and the very many ways they bring cheer, particularly on dreary, ruddy awful, wet soggy cold days.
The most incredible rainbow I have ever seen in my life almost caused me the greatest car accident I've ever had in my life. A great honking double, unbroken rainbow, so completely commanding the sky that it even lightened the sky underneath it.
I mean, sure, there was this ace one I took one day (whilst doing 110km/h down the country freeway) but the one the LGBB saw on our way home yesterday was so astounding I had to pull the car over so we could gaze at it before it disappeared.
But it didn't disappear. And there were so many exclamations bouncing around the inside of our car that I don't know what was filling me with more joy: the LGBB's squealing adoration of it and pleas of Oh pleeeeease, mummy, can we get to the pot of gold, please, pleeeease, please, can we? as if today was surely her day - it did look so tantalisingly close - or the exquisitely bold colour spectrum. We could see so many colours in it.
I have to say, I was gobsmacked. Totally astounded. While we drove, the rainbow seemed to be coming from nowhere yet everywhere. It was literally coming off the glistening gum trees, all wetted down from the recently passed thunderstorm. And then as we mounted the crest of one of the tallest hills in the area, it was right before us. Settled on the roofs of houses below.
We could have looked at it much longer. But as we continued to drive, it eventually faded.
Never seen anything like it. It's the one you always think rainbows ought to look like when you think of A Darn Good Rainbow. Textbook stuff.
Here is the old post again, for you regular readers inclined to catch up. It's a reno story. A short and sweet one. Don't be scared. Except of the sponged walls and the plates. You can be scared of those. It's a given.
I chose a colour for my external office wall and hung
the wall plates Steve gave me for my birthday last year.
THANK YOU for your input, dear readers!
I'm very proud of these doors - my $70 French door Ebay win! Cha-ching!
Work break: home made meringues for afternoon tea,
looking out from my new office/workspace to the family on the (messy) deck
A spot of painting: Beautiful sepia colour for the internal walls.
I feel calm already! Looks like a good window to sit
in front of to finish writing a book....
Finished off by a stunning sunset (which I only thought to try
and photograph at the last minute.... Darnit! It was gorgeous)
And to top it off, the safe arrival of our newest family member. What's better in life than that?
I have been up since before 5am today. Slightly earlier time than usual, but not an altogether unusual time of day for me to be awake and doing some pre-dawn energetic work for the Earth.
It has been overcast and/or raining for the past few weeks. A few sunrises of note as the sun coloured the clouds briefly before they turned into their usual grey gloominess. But apart from that, not much to be seen. Or so I thought. That pesky cloud cover, it has been hiding a real treat. What a sight I was greeted to this morning!
Although I thought twice about it, I didn't bother trying to capture what I saw on camera (sorry!). But imagine this: a brilliantly bright "star" that you know must be a planet (my guess was Venus, which I know can often be seen here in the southern eastern Australia states at least), plus another three stars of varying brightness (but quite faint and getting fainter as the sun edged upwards over the horizon). They were in such unfamiliar formation that I went to consult Dr Google. And was delighted I did.
Jupiter, Venus, Mars and Mercury - if you have been under a rock, like me - are apparently doing a very slow planetary "dance" at the moment. They have been visible from April and will be there in full view for anyone in the south east to see if you check your horizon around 6:15-ish any morning until the end of May.
More information can be found here. And I was delighted to find this website here, what great information! I was so glad I was up this morning, grateful for a cloudless Autumn sky. And absolutely awestruck yet again at the wonder and power of our uncontrolled Universe. Simply breathtaking to consider one is watching not one, but four of the planets whose names we are so familiar with but whose sighting with our own naked eye - within mere degrees of each other, no less - is one of those rare things.
Enjoy!
And go see Maxabella, that's where I've linked up to today
Peek-a-boo! The Bear and the LGBB look-alike: Me! 1975
I have a bear called Parby. Everyone who knew me under the age of ten would know this bear. He went on school camps, countless car trips, every family holiday...
Parby was a seriously special companion to me. He was the one constant in an often confusing and painful childhood. And he went everywhere with me. I can't quite convey how much comfort he gave me.
I married Parby once. In an intriguing plot twist worthy of daytime television, he was also my baby and wore nappies.
In short, he meant everything to me.
He was safe. And he held all my whispered secrets, being my constant companion he was reliable like that. You'd also be hard pressed to find a photo without me holding him in my first five years.
I had long since forgotten the importance of Parby. That is, until Lolly developed a deep obsession with the old bear. He had been sitting on a shelf in her room since we moved to this house. About a month ago, she discovered the bear for the first time and became overly excited that it was mine. After introductions were made, that was it.
"I could get used to this" - Parby
"Welcome to Hugsville" - Scraps
She became thoroughly convinced that he is a magical bear. Possibly because, at 36, he is "sooooo old" that how could he possibly still be in existence. Ahem. She has told no fewer than two friends who have visited that "Mummy is his owner but I look after him now. He's a bit shy..... 'sokay, Parby, 'sokay."
I am fascinated that, from a couple of simple words - "This is Parby. He was my old bear and was waiting for me when I was born" - my daughter now holds him in such high regard. Her movements with him are gentle and she always makes sure she cradles him or carries him as a mother would a small child. It's so funny to me. I know I did the same. Perhaps it's his sweet face that just compels you to be gentle with him. He is rather endearing.
They are still in the getting-to-know-you phase. But theirs is a firm friendship already, I can see. Lolly has introduced him to all her firm old favourites and, to my sheer surprise, has even overlooked the gorgeous Scraps (her own constant companion) in favour of ensuring Parby has a seat in the car. She is definitely pulling out all stops to make my old bear feel welcome.
And in a move that may yet see me go nutty (for she keeps shoving Parby into my arms), the LGBB is also completely convinced that he moves. Never mind that I just *happen* to be holding him when he nods and giggles at whatever she's saying. God, I love the innocence and imagination of children. May she never completely fill in the blanks and always have that sense of wonder and "imagine if".
When I took my little LGBB to the bloggers' brunch a couple of weeks ago, there was a store of Baby Born dolls clothes. As she has never really been into dolls (just Scraps and Bunny and her bears), I bypassed the display the first time around. After we had met everyone, I took Lolly back to the display and suggested, "What about getting some clothes for Parby?"
NOT posed! I found them like this...
Lolly agreed. We chose an outfit. The bear looks totes spunky in it now. He is sleeping with her every night. And over the past couple of nights, my heart has been so filled to the brim seeing my old mate being loved again by a happy, safe little girl and her friends that I have had to take a sneaky photo and risk waking her with the flash to capture these precious memories for her. And for me, I can't kid myself.
What about you? Did you have a special favourite childhood bear? Do you still have it? What happened?
R-L: Asleep, asleep, asleep.... awake and can't believe his good fortune!
Boo-yah!
So I guess, in a sentence, I am grateful for the opportunity to witness a very important "person" (bear, whatevs) to me be discovered by my daughter. It thrills me no end that she gets such an uncannily similar sense of wanting to nurture and take take care of this gentle bear as I did, all those years ago.
If there is one thing I love and get a silly giggle out of, it's a good bit of poorly translated English. Having a brother living in Japan is handy for many reasons, least of which the Japlish he finds. Here is a stealthily snapped photo of a sign hanging from the window of a car:
It reads - Pregnant woman has gotten on
Well, erm, yes.... given that she's pregnant, I'd say at one time or another in the past nine months at least, she certainly has. Hasn't she? But do we all need to have the obvious pointed out on her car window?
Hilarious! I love it.
I've joined in the Hop at Maxabella Loves today. This is more a Love post than a Grateful For post, but I think I'm still allowed to play....
I'm sitting here on an overcast, still, slow Sunday evening.
I was afforded some time today to stay close to my manuscript and work on the tricky end chapters of Part 1. They're tricky because I am chopping what is close to my heart, yet not so necessary for the flow of the book. My diary entries that I wrote each day (sometimes twice a day) beside Ella's side in the NICU. The reader doesn't really know - although they would have guessed by now - that they are barreling towards the sad end.
The LGBB and her Dad arrived home from a spot of swimming just before. Lolly walked in announcing she was going to watch "her" ABC (goodness, the marketing certainly works) with the headphones on. She started up her account where all her safe internet and program options may be found, and she started one of her favourite shows: Dirtgirlworld.
So I've got these two realities going on. Once again. Feeling closer to my lost newborn because that is where my head has been all afternoon, and yet closer in proximity to this young person who has sprung up seemingly before my very eyes and has raced at lightning speed through newborn, baby and toddler stages to now command the iMac like she was born knowing how.
I'm looking at the back of this gorgeous girl's head. Appreciating her so very, very much. Wanting to tear up, but not needing to. Giggling at the sight of art imitating life in this photo (I put her hair up like this so it wouldn't go in her eyes when she was swimming... I wonder if that's why Dirt Girl's mum did her hair like that).
Loving her. Loving her, too. And loving him.
He's cooking dinner so I can stay in my split world tonight.
This weekend, I want to acknowledge one of my true, enduring loves.
Music
I was brought up surrounded by it and have a natural appreciation for all sorts of genres. There are so many ways that music has enriched and healed and complemented my life - as with most people on this planet - that it's difficult to name all of them. But I thought I"d compile a list. So, dear reader, I give you...
Things you didn't know you were interested to learn about music and me:
• Any rock music with piano in it has me riveted. Think Billy Joel (songs like Stiletto and Scenes From An Italian Restaurant fill me with sheer joy and I get lost in the solos) and Ben Folds Five.
• One of my lasting memories of my father is his cheery morning disposition, coupled with ABC Classic radio playing in the background and my teenage self would find his loud "la-la-la's" as he sang along to everything both embarrassing and funny.
• Mum and Dad met at a church choir. They were both excellent singers.
• I learned piano and recorder as a child. Recorder was my true love. I went from the smaller descant, which gets SUCH a bad rap because of the loud, nails-down-blackboard screeching sounds younger children make with them, but is actually a gorgeous instrument to play (when you're playing good music!). Then I progressed to the treble, a larger beautifully rich toned instrument and then had the privilege of playing both the tenor and the bass recorder, the granddaddy of recorders, which were my teacher's. The bass recorder is the biggest in this image (the descant is the smallest) and you use a funny brass mouthpiece to play it. I remember how huge it looked to me, as a kid, because the thing was so big it towered over my head while it rested on the floor.
• I remember vividly the day Mum took me to a recorder maker to choose and purchase my very own treble recorder. There were all sorts of colours, each one unique and no two recorders alike. Each one had a slightly different tone to them. The recorder maker was passionate about recorders and I remember really connecting with him over his love for the instrument. I tried several and settled on the one that would be my constant companion for many years, for I practiced for hours a day.
• I dabbled with the flute but only lasted a term. I couldn't master it and expected to be perfect but it's a difficult instrument to play and has quite a different way of using the mouthpiece compared to what I was used to with the recorders.
• Steve thinks I am a freak because of how I can pick out a tune on the piano without even trying.
• Sight reading music (playing music you've never seen before) was my hat trick in exams - I think I have inherited this from my grandfather, who was a brilliant musician and had a photographic memory.
• Music is in my blood. My cousins include an opera singer and a concert pianist turned conductor for the Philharmonic orchestra (oops... I can't remember which ones he's been in but I think the New York Philharmonic is one of them...). And my grandfather (Mum's dad) was a masterful and passionate piano and clarinet player - self taught, as I understand. Unfortunately, I never met him.
• I was doing music exams at age 9. I got A's and a B. I did three exams in total over the course of three years and graduated to a point where my teacher advised my parents I ought to be studying at the Victorian Conservatorium of Music. Unfortunately, the timing coincided with my parents separating and then divorcing. And anyway, the college was in the city - far too far for a then 12 year-old to travel alone and impossible for my parents to do. I've always wondered how far I could have gone.
• When I go to see a live orchestra, I cry with pure emotion at the beauty of the sound and cannot stop the bliss from bubbling over within me. Nothing else does it to me quite like a full orchestra.
• It's not all classical. I love music as diverse as Stevie Wonder, Barbara Streisand, The Dooby Brothers, Steely Dan, The Carpenters and James Taylor... (I could go on) and all those 70's sounds, through the disco era, to the more rhythmic and largely computer-made sounds of Air and Phoenix (a French electronic outfit). We love and play music from British rock bands like Deep Purple, Led Zepplin and Def Leppard. I think Django Reinhart was simply awesome and so talented. And I thank my father for introducing me to, as well as countless classical composers, the true Ladies of Blues music such as Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holliday, Lina Horne and so many others. It has been the foundation for me discovering some gorgeous modern day artists who have sublime voices - Stacey Kent, Madeleine Peyroux and Kylie Auldist to name a few of my favourites.
• On a lazy weekend afternoon, you can find me cranking up the stereo to one of my favourite CD's, Ladies Sing The Blues.
• I love to listen to jazz music when I cook.
• I may well get Lolly beaten up at school. For a time there, recently, her favourite video clip was this. We have very retro tastes in this house and she is never allowed to watch those video hits shows.
• We owned all sorts of strange records. One of my favourites was The Wombles. "Come Womble with your partners, young wombles were told, if you minueto allegretto you will live to be old." I'd love to get a copy of that now.
We had a massive fireplace in the lounge room of my childhood home. One of those scary big brick ones you could walk around - it was in the middle of the room and so created a hallway behind it. I loved it, but I was also really scared of its sheer size.
This one? This is my size.
It started out looking like this (this was the real estate photo, I've discovered I was so keen to start changing the house that we don't actually have a photo of this side of the lounge/good/sitting room in its original glory):
Scared? I was. Very.
I mean, just how many plates is it possible to fit in one room?? Answer: too many to discreetly count with the vendor sitting in her favourite armchair. And while this is some people's idea of homely, to me it just screams CLUTTER! Oh, and DUST ME!
I know. Trust me, the room is unrecognisable now. The next door neighbour got a thrill the other weekend when we invited her to poke her head in the front door and check out a bit of what we'd been doing in here. She threw her hands up to her mouth, eyes wide with surprise and disbelief at the changes - it was almost like I was Suzy Wilks. Save for the hair, the figure, the boobs, the teeth. You know... Almost. Anyway, the neighbour went away most impressed and ready to put a bomb under her husband to start changing their own rooms (after 22 years living in the house next door, I guess there's no time like the present for her to start nagging).
It was the very first thing I painted, the fireplace, and I did so the day after settlement day back in November last year. It still could do with another coat. I suppose I'll get around to that. One day.
