Aaaaahhh.....

I have a glass of Chardonnay. I have silence. I have no students in the immediate future. I have no money. I have tons of time. Life is sweet.

Finally

It's here! In exactly 6 hours and 22 minutes I will be on holidays! No more teaching for two weeks...oh joy and relief and a huge exhalation.
In the next 2 hours I will summon up the strength to go in to work for the last stretch. The strength will come from a can of 'V' and a nice bubble bath (whilst listening to the 'Pride and Prejudice' Soundtrack.) The bubbles will smell of Ylang Ylang, Lavender and Cinnamon.

When I come home I will have a comforting meal. Devilled vegan sausages, mash and cajun veges. When my tummy is happy, I will brew a huge pot of tea and settle down with Rutherford's 'The Forest' on the balcony. It will have stopped blowing a gale by then and will be a pleasant spring evening laced with the smells of Jasmine, Wisteria and Lavender.

I will not feel sorry for myself. I will not be jealous that mum and dad could afford to go to 'Dead Man Walking' and I couldn't. I will ignore the extremely drastic state of my finances and instead amuse myself planning thrifty but tasty meals for the next few days.

Tomorrow I will go for a walk, I will potter in the garden, I will make seitan and clean out my bedroom. The only music in my world will be what I choose to listen to. I will be able to use the energy I normally spend trying to motivate others to motivate and nurture myself. I will be quiet and calm and spend time watching the tiny birds in the snow-tree. I will chat to Nimue and play with her in the sunshine.

I will entertain vague hopes that my brother will find some time to spend with me soon. I will dream pleasant dreams and fall in love with my doona. I will Live, not just survive.
Amen.

9.15pm October 1993

Dale mentioned 'crushes', I haven't had one in quite a while. I have only vague memories of the insidious and painful flutterings that accompany the 'crush'.

So here's misty crush-ramble from Sydney University quad 1993. The fellow in question was a very nice boy (with a girlfriend) who fooled around with me a bit on the side. Despite the gravitas of my perceptions at the time, I did get over him, and proceeded onto better and more painful crushes:-)

Call me melodramatic. Call me obsessive, but it seems in this fog I stand, and alone imagine I watch you fly,-leap at the warming sun, way from the chill of my arms, away from my curiously breaking heart. I am smoking. I know you do not like that. It is almost as if I'm trying to provoke you, isn't it? -I have this desire you see, to become she who knows how and when to lt go. But you must see that I can't. I am chaining you with these words, I hold you down with the full weight of my soul -a weight no one should have to bear.

I am watching this fog you see; it's dancing, it's making love to the streetlight,-it disappears and licks forward again, tormenting the darkness. The cigarette I am holding in my left hand, enabling me to write, glows cancerously, I consider stubbing it into the wet sidewalk but am distracted by a tearing cramp. I am smiling, realizing that I am, in effect, writing letter aftr twisted letter to you in this book, masking its strangeness with a false belief that these are actually diary entries. I know you'll read it, and smile, and perhaps kill me with silence that I will fill the next 4 pages guessing at. It's a strange game we play my lion,-don't you think? And isn't it strange that sitting here in the fog picturing you, I know that my obsession has become love, and that I should never have written it down, because anything you say now will rip me apart. I am a fool, and you rather than I hold the strings of the storm. I stub my cigarette.

And in Dreams....

It is an odd thing, the human brain. The moments between waking and sleeping remain completely delicious as a result. Swirling and strangely comforting magenta dreams starring unlikely combinations of people and situations. Kisses caught by night from thy lips red blossom. Then, before the reality of morning crystallizes, there are moments of sweet pulsing langour, when part of your brain says 'No, NOT appropriate' but the limbic part pushes it away lazily

During the day, you wonder if people can detect the secret behind your smile. You notice men following your movements as though you have been marked by some invisible brand. You feel the langour creep up again as the sun soaks into your skin, and as you watch it dance over the river currents.

You find yourself wishing for sleep, and a mind that can be ordered to repeat pleasant dreams. You know it won't. You know you shouldn't wish it, but you do. And the wishing shimmers in your wake, marking you, changing you.

An odd thing, the human brain.

Two toes down, lots left to injure

Two days ago I began my 'get skinny for the wedding' regime. 6 months to go, I figured, gave me a reasonable (and sensible) time-frame for said project.

So all fat is hereby banished. Simple sugars (and simple carbs) banished. Alcohol will only be consumed one night per week, and then in extreme moderation. Food will be eaten raw where possible. 3/4 of dinner plate will be full of salad, oats for brekkie, lots of water, and of course..the exercise regime.

I did a great deal of research and came to the conclusion that I'm not a 'sports' person, I hate the gym, and I prefer to exercise to music (of my choice). So the sensible thing seemed to be to put together a home regime using my own body-weight resistance (and Oh! How it resists!) with a 30 minute walk every day.

The first day I managed 125 crunches and my 1/2 hour walk.

The second day I only managed 75 crunches, and no walk:-( (Bloody work got in the way)

The third day (today) I got serious.

First: 50 crunches (achieved)

Second: 20 Hindu Squats (8 achieved)

Third: 20 Hindu push-ups (15 achieved)

Disappointed with myself, I accepted a trip out for tea with mum. Very wobbly walking. Very. My thigh muscles said 'Exercise is bad you dumb chit'. I gave them 'the look' and continued to ignore them. I had decided, however, that the walk was out of the question for the day.

Tea went well with lots of music/student conversation,then blammo, coming down the Ori stairs I slipped and fell. Bits of skin and blood now decorate the Ori's entrance and I have sprained my left big and second toes (not to mention a slight, but nonetheless painful decline in dignity).

I am now in the midst of lamenting my woeful fitness levels and the fact that my regime will be seriously hampered by Pain. Without the balance provided by my toes, I will be reduced to crunches only and possibly a sad hobble 'round the block. I also have rehearsals tonight (mainly dance!) and have 3 hours of teaching to do.

Poor me. If the world was fair I would hop onto the couch with a blankie, hot tea and 'Pride and Prejudice' while my sweet fiancee generally fussed over me.

Not fair! I bought the daisies. It's supposed to be good karma for me!

Steatopygia

Whoa. I mean, 'I like big buts and I cannot lie...'

Ok I have a little tiny, wee, almost ridiculous But in comparison.
Apparently this is an adaptive mechanism for living in tropical climates. i.e the limbs remain lean and fast while the fat stores will see you through the 'dry' season when there is little to eat.
The future of the Australian female while global warming continues?
Is it just me or is that whole 'pointy' thing absolutely extraordinary? I love learning new things:-)

Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

Was this silly?

I had $30 spare dollars. Three main choices to 'treat' myself.

Choice No 1. African daisies to make my front yard (rented) prettier.

Choice No.2. A nice new pair of slip-ons to make my feet prettier

Choice No.3. A nice new bottle of vodka to make my world-view prettier (at least momentarily)

I bought the daisies. I am now considering that it was probably a foolish decision as I don't actually own the property (so I have effectively given a $30 gift to my landlord).

My old slip-ons have actually fallen apart.

I really could have used a drink tonight after a full teaching load.

I astonish me with my silliness.

The daisies look extremely pretty and sunny though. They also urged me to go out and buy them some more friends. 2 different colours under each plum tree was their helpful suggestion.

The slip-ons seem further and further away by the minute.

Yente

Oh lord, I have been accidentally thrust into a match-making morass.
I swore I would never have any part in this, EVER again.
But when someone asks me to describe Fellow X, I can't help but wax lyrical. This has some very bad consequences.
How does one stop 'enthusing' about a friend that deserves to be 'enthused' over?
If anyone mentions self-control I will hurl bilious chunks.
This is my pre-emptive apology for enthusing.
Erm....that's it.

Love went a-riding

Lovely lovely lovely new song.

Music by Frank Bridge, words by Mary E Coleridge.

Love went a-riding,

Love went a-riding over the earth,

On Pegasus he rode.

The flowers before him sprang to birth,

And the frozen rivers flowed.

Then all the youths and the maidens cried.

"Stay here with us", "Stay here with us",

"King of Kings".

But love said, "No! for the horse I ride,

for the horse I ride has wings".

Love went a-riding, Love went a riding over the earth.

On Pegasus he rode.

Ahhhh, new music can do such wonderful things to a tired musical mind. Cam, new song to learn. Beastly accompaniment...It's actually listed as a 'virtuoso' accomp. There's a wee challenge for your weekend:-)

The Mill-wheel turns and the waters roar.

You can't see much from there. Your view is blocked by verdant green. There is no latch on the wooden gate, just push gently. Oh, the Jasmine often gets stuck just there, don't worry-there's enough of it for me not to worry about the bit you just broke off.
It's quite safe to take your shoes off on this path. In fact, do. Then your feet will feel the tickle of the thyme and chamomile that grows between the rocks.
What you're smelling is the Daphne to your right, and the wisteria that covers the front porch. If a breeze springs up you will be showered with tiny purple petals.
Now you can see the house more clearly. It's not large, but most available outside wall-space is covered with creeping something. The Wisteria you can't miss, it literally drips off the awning in almost obscene abundance. The red vine near the chimney is boston ivy. I love it, but unfortunately so do spiders. I always send Mr to trim it back as a result. Oh, stop for a minute. Just near the front step there is an enormous may bush. Stand under it. Now, grab a branch and shake. Trust me. It's snowing! I loved to this when I was a child, and the little white petals in your hair are sweet.
The blue and pink hydrangeas are in full bloom. I don't know how Mr manages to have both colours in the same garden bed, some mysterious PH balancing act known only to him. Ah well, let him have some secrets!
The porch is quite cool isn't it? I suspect the vines act as insulation. Over to the right there is where we most often eat breakfast. It's lovely in the dappled sunlight. The cushions on the chairs need replacing, but they're still comfortable. To the left is Mr's chair, yesterday's paper, an open paperback and a tea-mug. I have asked him to pick up after himself...sigh.
Come in, come in! Tea? Yes, I looove my kitchen too! Mr did most of it himself. I wanted it to look like something out of the Magic Faraway Tree, hence the countertops with rough bark edges and the old iron range complete with stone chimney and fire.
Yes, the herbs hanging above you are from the garden. I dug the onions about a week ago and just finished plaiting them. They are pretty aren't they? That's marjoram, thyme, lemon verbena, lavender, bergamot, golden rod,...oh, the odd looking pods? Love-in-a-mist/Devil-in-a-bush. Have some warm banana bread with that.
Would you prefer to drink that out the back?
Do you mind if I just grab some veges for dinner while we're here? I know it looks like a hodge-podge but this 'random' planting seems to confuse the bugs. Aren't the scarlet flowers on that bean trellis pretty? I think I like them more than the beans.
Cauliflower, Kale, Tomato, a couple of zucchini, a few leaves of the red-oak, lamb's ear, cos, butter...I just take leaves as I need them. Can you just have a squiz in that vine behind you and see if there's a decent sized cucumber? No, not that one, that's the kiwi,-the one with the little yellow flowers.
Now some Calendula flowers, borage flowers, parsley...no, that's an heirloom tomato. It doesn't taste purple. Have one! Go on, nothing quite like a sun-warm tom straight from the vine.
That down there? That's the shed and music studio. Oh, the miniature version on the left is the chook-house. That huge tree hanging over the chooks is a quince. The blossoms are magnificent but I can't give away enough of the fruit! Take a basket home with you if you like. I've never really had the patience to make Jam.
Ohhh. That chill comes off the mountains at this time of afternoon. Time for a jumper pretty soon I think. We weren't sure about living this high up, but the bulbs love it. If you had come last week you would have seen more jonquils and daffodils,-they're past their best now and Mr is just itching to mow the lawn. He's not allowed until after the flowering season, of course.
Actually, he'll be home any minute. I should probably make a start on dinner. Would you like to stay? Nothing fancy I'm afraid, just Mash, roasted cauliflower, chick-pea burgers and ratatouille with a big salad.
My brother was over last week though and left a marvellous bottle of Pinot. We'll open it shall we? I'll light some candles and put some relaxing music on.
I'd love a hand with dinner,-thankyou! let's go in and see what we can create....

"Well, what the hell DO you want?!".....

Fine, here's my Christmas list...you asked.....

(1) My own home. Must have large wooden kitchen and spacious bathroom as well as my 'piece of earth'.
(2) Roles in profesional musical theatre
(3) All my great friends happy, secure and not too far away
(4) some friggin' credit
(5) Enough money to buy the Ryuichi Sakamoto 'Wuthering Heights' soundtrack
(6) To have finished my course and consequently to be able to earn decent money
(7)For my little brother to be happy
(8) For my father to reverse his diabetes
(9) enough money to support my furry friends all over the world
(10) For Australia to substantially reduce their meat consumption and for some decent animal-rights laws to be passed.
(11) Just one halfway decent film role
(12) To have the time and means to study the Cello
(13) to travel to exotic climes

That's about it. Simple and predictable. Happy now?....

Thankyou dearest:-)

Thankyou for making me believe I was beautiful for one night, when everything else in my life demanded the opposite opinion.

Thankyou for your eyes filled with dark secrets.

Thankyou for forgiving me everything and encouraging me to make more mistakes.

Thankyou for your mouth in the rain, your hair in the firelight, and your prolific poetry.

Thankyou for your hands, your laugh, your smile, your child-like enthusiasm, your inspiration and your constant forgiveness of my faulty voice, my average sight-reading, and my endless foibles.

Thankyou for coming out even though it broke my heart.

Thankyou for choosing me across a crowded room and talking with me until dawn...and then making me feel as though the world had disappeared.

Thankyou for Tom Waits, Yellow roses and demanding that you see my eyes.

Thankyou for your ageless beauty, your constant giving and your belief that everything I do is a stroke of genius.

Thankyou for coming in for coffee, kissing me until the stars swam and then staying forever.

Thankyou for accepting my difference and loving me anyway.

Thankyou for coming with me to realms of midnight and madness. For Doghead, for Curlew and Craven, for making High School a joy, and for your ethereal beauty.

Thankyou for being the friend that dismissed our first meeting, loved one of my best friends, opened my mind, drank with me on fridays, cooked up a storm and is still mistaken for being me.

Thankyou for making me experience obsession, pain, passion, denial, philosophy and friendship by post.

Thankyou for your talent, your beauty, your accent, your charity and for coming to my little brother's Symphony from half way across the world even though I am a complete stranger.

Thankyou for being my rock, the mirror of my faults, the only one who gets it, the most patient and forgiving being, the gentlest and kindest of people and the most vocal appreciator of my cooking.

As previously posted; every sentence is aimed toward a differet person.

No one can stop me...

Natalie, Natalie, Natalie

Your name rhymes with 'Chatterly'

which is handy because

Cameron wants to be your Mellors..

'You'll say a better horse has never sat-a-gee

You'll say a better horse has never sat-a-gee

You'll say a better horse has never sat a sat a gee..."

I am a powet

Clive Clive Clive

Your name rhymes with 'Chive'

which is handy because

You would also be tasty in a savoury kind of way.

Rimes

Gerry Gerry Gerry,

your name rhymess with 'Berry'

and that is excellent, very

cos I want to gobble you all up...erry.

wow. Best bit of writing I've done in years and nothing.
No reaction, at all? Not the images at least?
Nothing resonated with anyone?
'K. Point taken.

Father's Day Dinner

Menu

Southern Fried Chicken Seitan nuggets

Beef Seitan Casserole

Asparagus and Carrots in Orange Juice/Nuttelex glaze

Baked Balsamic potatoes and parsnip with walnuts

Cauliflower and Broccoli steamed in vegan white sauce with sauteed leek

Salad of bitter greens, walnuts, apple, cherry tomatoes and spring onion

Garlic and Herb Bread

Dessert: berries, banana, lychee and strawberry topped with vanilla soy yoghurt and blueberry granola crumble.

12 year old Glenfiddich and dry

Champagne + OJ

Dad's just left with a full stomach, a big smile and a substantial doggie-bag.

Pat on head for self. Happy family and cruelty free eating....L'Chaim!