a year or so down the track
OK, a new look,and let's try for a new start Last year was a really piss-poor effort at maintaining this blog. Here's hoping a new attitude towards it to go along with the new layout might just keep things moving.
A quick overview of the last year or so . . . . .
In short, last year was pretty crap. Work was on the whole unpleasant at best, otherwise discouraging, disheartening and depressing (no apologies for the alliteration . . . and does that have one t or two? Anybody?) There was one good thig about work - Salesforce. A 6 month secondment that kept me going, reminded me that work can be fun, that working hard doesn't need to equate to exhaustion and depression. Some new friends made there too that a year later are still going strong. But it was only six months.
This year (hey, have I really just done last year in one short paragraph. Can I afford to have a whole year mean so little? No, the second half seems a waste, the Salesforce half-year I may just have to get back to later, that was something rather special. I think maybe I need to focus more on that good part of 2007.)
Try again - this year. Hmmm, this year. If I thought work last year was crap then the last two months must be hell. A new computer system introduced, inadequately and often innacurately trained, under-tested, in many ways ill-conceived, no it has not been fun. It has been frustrating and highy stressful. It has been improved, slightly. We are slowly learning our way around its quirks and shortcomings but I don't think too many people have stopped cursing it yet. There have been far too many tears, too many outbursts, but there have also been new bonds forged, new appreciation of people's abilities. Maybe I will look back at it as an interesting time. It's too recent and too raw for that yet. And it ain't over yet, not by a long shot.
On a more personal level, because this year is NOT going to be dominated by work - are you listening here Simon, that is not an option, there is a life to be lived out there and time is drifting on - the year didn't start too well, an old friend walked (emailed actually) himself out of my life in about six short words. I removed another less important friend from my life, less abruptly. I cannot be fussed with the lying, the bullying, and most of all the illegal dealings that I could no longer pretend were not going on. But life sometimes (often in fact) seems to balance itself out, and there's a new friend seems to have come along. Thats a brand new one. There's another couple taht have been growing over the last few months. Sometimes all you have to do is open your eyes and maybe your heart.
A couple of highlights - The Wedding, of course. And my oldest and dearest friend's 30th Anniversary - yup 30 years, not bad. And the people they dragged out of the woodwork! But how great to sit at table with peole I haven't seen in years, and pick up the conversation like it had only been a week A certain little trip I won to Sydney to spend the day on set with Hugh Jackman (I'm sorry, did you really think I wasn't going to mention that? C'mon!) The movie ball, catching up with the gorgeous Kang and walking round half the night holding hands with her. If anybody noticed it could have ruined my reputation. Christmas with the family, more relaxed than ever before, my neice taking the role of matriarch with more and more confidence, she is taking over my mother's role of fiercely holding the family together, but with a much greater sense of humour about the whole thing. And her son, my great-nephew, growing into a fine and intelligent young man. Sundays at Brighton continue - they have to, John and I haven't sorted the world out yet, even after 36 years.
Hang on, did'nt I say someting before about getting a life back. That almost sounds like I was having one all along and I just didn't notice it. Hmmm
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Sunday, September 16, 2007
BACK AGAIN
Hmm, only two posts this year. Not good. But then, I'm not the type to post when things aren't all that good. That kind of explains the tag at the top of the Blog. First half of this year wound up being good. I got out of the awful situation at work, and lucky enough to do it without resigning or anythng drastic, just lucky enough to wrangle a secondment to a part of the business that suited me right down to the ground.
That finished, as all good things do. But it finished well, and I returned to the home office and a new department - much the same job, but a different manager, different approach, different expectations. Three motnhs there, and I'm not sure now how apt that little quote up the top of the page is any more. But it's going to stay there for a bit yet. As a reminder.
I've just had one of the best weekends in a long long time. My first two day weekend in about a month, and until Thursday it looked like being quiet and uneventful.
Well things change.
Finished work at 8.00 Friday, and a short walk across the junction to M & D's. They get married in three weeks, so a lot of the evening was about that, mostly trying to find a song for the happy couple to walk down the non-existent aisle to. It's a symbolic moment, and one of those times that it really does have to be exactly the right choice of music. Fun going through D's music, throwing totally inapropriate selections at M in the other room, as much for the joke as to get any response that might indicate the direction to take. Looks like the song is chosen. I'm not sure its the version I would go for, but hey, it ain't my wedding. Nice to be part of the process though, really nice, flattering, and reassuring. Funny how even in a friendship where you have no cause to doubt it's solidity - where you don't even consider there is cause to doubt - being included in something like that just makes you feel even better about it all. Kinda warm and fuzzy.
Then it was time to go, and M. said "you gotta read this, you'll love it" and pressed a book in my hand. I have to say it didn't look promising. I started reading it on the train today heading down to visit the oldest and dearest friend. I was moist eyed after the first two paragraphs. Told him to read the first two paragraphs. Instant moist eyes, and I wasn't sure for a moment I was ver going to get the book back. Twenty minutes reading on the train, and I kid you not, I was salivating. Now it is a food book, but British home-cooking in the fifties by a mum who sounds like a bad cook. The salivating was no so much what was being described, but the memories it evoked. My mum was not a bad cook - I have yet to taste a sponge cake that approaches her's - and a lot of the brands-names are obviously different, but it's so close to what I grew up with. It's a strange coincidence, but the sort I've come to almost expect where M. is concerned. She has no idea, but it was Mum's birthday last week, a day that gets to me far more than the anniversary of her death, and the book set me off on a whole lot of memories, good ones. The sort that tie in with what that book says in the opening paragraph about how you can't help but love a person who makes you toast in the morning.
By the way, the book is Nigel Slater's "Toast."
Other good things on the weekend - went to DFO, the outlet mall in the city, walked right around it, popped into every men's wear. Had a very clear idea of the trousers I wanted. No luck. Got back to where I started, for some reason decided to go back into the first store I'd checked out. A tiny section I hadn't noticed, and one pair only, my size, exacty what I 've been looking for the last couple of months. Then four blocks across town to the cinema, and Hairspray" possibly the best feel-good film in a long long time. Great fun, toe-tapping music, walked out floating. That just doesn't happen often enough.
Today, down to the Oldest and Dearest, as mentioned above. As always, great time. We talk non-stop, everything from politics, through musicals, film, TV, sex (or our lack of it), families, travel, you name it we go there, fearlessly. I think maybe 35 years of knowing each other, plus a bottle or two of wine helps.
Now its Sunday night, I'm pleasantly slightly under the influence, feeling good about the world - real good, more than I have for a while and I like that, and I'm grateful. And most of it is thanks to friends. I'm blessed there, for sure.
Hmm, only two posts this year. Not good. But then, I'm not the type to post when things aren't all that good. That kind of explains the tag at the top of the Blog. First half of this year wound up being good. I got out of the awful situation at work, and lucky enough to do it without resigning or anythng drastic, just lucky enough to wrangle a secondment to a part of the business that suited me right down to the ground.
That finished, as all good things do. But it finished well, and I returned to the home office and a new department - much the same job, but a different manager, different approach, different expectations. Three motnhs there, and I'm not sure now how apt that little quote up the top of the page is any more. But it's going to stay there for a bit yet. As a reminder.
I've just had one of the best weekends in a long long time. My first two day weekend in about a month, and until Thursday it looked like being quiet and uneventful.
Well things change.
Finished work at 8.00 Friday, and a short walk across the junction to M & D's. They get married in three weeks, so a lot of the evening was about that, mostly trying to find a song for the happy couple to walk down the non-existent aisle to. It's a symbolic moment, and one of those times that it really does have to be exactly the right choice of music. Fun going through D's music, throwing totally inapropriate selections at M in the other room, as much for the joke as to get any response that might indicate the direction to take. Looks like the song is chosen. I'm not sure its the version I would go for, but hey, it ain't my wedding. Nice to be part of the process though, really nice, flattering, and reassuring. Funny how even in a friendship where you have no cause to doubt it's solidity - where you don't even consider there is cause to doubt - being included in something like that just makes you feel even better about it all. Kinda warm and fuzzy.
Then it was time to go, and M. said "you gotta read this, you'll love it" and pressed a book in my hand. I have to say it didn't look promising. I started reading it on the train today heading down to visit the oldest and dearest friend. I was moist eyed after the first two paragraphs. Told him to read the first two paragraphs. Instant moist eyes, and I wasn't sure for a moment I was ver going to get the book back. Twenty minutes reading on the train, and I kid you not, I was salivating. Now it is a food book, but British home-cooking in the fifties by a mum who sounds like a bad cook. The salivating was no so much what was being described, but the memories it evoked. My mum was not a bad cook - I have yet to taste a sponge cake that approaches her's - and a lot of the brands-names are obviously different, but it's so close to what I grew up with. It's a strange coincidence, but the sort I've come to almost expect where M. is concerned. She has no idea, but it was Mum's birthday last week, a day that gets to me far more than the anniversary of her death, and the book set me off on a whole lot of memories, good ones. The sort that tie in with what that book says in the opening paragraph about how you can't help but love a person who makes you toast in the morning.
By the way, the book is Nigel Slater's "Toast."
Other good things on the weekend - went to DFO, the outlet mall in the city, walked right around it, popped into every men's wear. Had a very clear idea of the trousers I wanted. No luck. Got back to where I started, for some reason decided to go back into the first store I'd checked out. A tiny section I hadn't noticed, and one pair only, my size, exacty what I 've been looking for the last couple of months. Then four blocks across town to the cinema, and Hairspray" possibly the best feel-good film in a long long time. Great fun, toe-tapping music, walked out floating. That just doesn't happen often enough.
Today, down to the Oldest and Dearest, as mentioned above. As always, great time. We talk non-stop, everything from politics, through musicals, film, TV, sex (or our lack of it), families, travel, you name it we go there, fearlessly. I think maybe 35 years of knowing each other, plus a bottle or two of wine helps.
Now its Sunday night, I'm pleasantly slightly under the influence, feeling good about the world - real good, more than I have for a while and I like that, and I'm grateful. And most of it is thanks to friends. I'm blessed there, for sure.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Been a while, but tagged by Mel again.
(Almost) 50 Things About Me
1.WHO WERE YOU NAMED AFTER? My parents were convinced I was going to be a girl (no smart comments OK) and I was meant to be Sally Ann. My mother thought of Simon in the hospital, ad that was it. She never knew why she thought of it.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? The day Bonita told me she’d resigned from work.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? I hate it.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Mortadella pepper.
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Just the Barney boy who refuses to accept he’s a dog, puts up with everything, and offers unbounded devotion in exchange for food and a cuddle,
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOURSELF? I’d have to be very patient if I was.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Wouldn’t cross my mind.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? No. They went when I was bout 6.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Only if you’ll go with me.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Weet-Bix.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Yep.
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Most of the time no.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Cocolate chip.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Face.
15. RED OR PINK? Red
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? My procrastination.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? Mum and Dad.
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? Absolutely. Everyone.
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Blue jeans, blue and grey sneakers
20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Chopped up banana and ice-cream (dessert) 21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Jamie Cullum “20 Something”
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Blue
23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Coconut or fresh coriander
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? One of the contractors at work.
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Of course. Who could not like Miss Melly.
*there is no 26
27. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Tennis and diving.
28. HAIR COLOR? Its grey now, but it was dark bown once
29. EYE COLOR? Brown
30. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Sometimes
31. FAVORITE FOOD? Pad Thai at The Balcony in Bangkok (sorry Mel, I had to get Thailand in somewhere)
32. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? I’’m an old sook. Happy Endings
33. WHAT WAS THE LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? On TV “”Memoirs of a Geisha” (prett to look at). At the movies “300” (liked it a lot)
34. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING??? Red and navy t-shirt
35. SUMMER OR Winter? Summer.
36. HUGS OR KISSES? hugs
37. FAVORITE DESSERT? Sticky Date Pudding
38. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Be lucky if anyone bothers.
39. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Most everybody. Well, you see, Mel has already done it . .
40. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? “Jasmine Nights” by S.P.Somtow
41. ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Haven’t you heard of a laser mouse?
42. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Nigella nothing
43. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SOUND? Rain
44. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles
45. WHAT IS THE FURTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? The U.K. – its about as far as you can get geographically. In terms of most different, soiritually, culturally etc, Cambodia.
46. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? Yes. Being me
47. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Melbourne, Australia
48. WHO'S ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK. Anybody’s – I ain’t choosy.
(Almost) 50 Things About Me
1.WHO WERE YOU NAMED AFTER? My parents were convinced I was going to be a girl (no smart comments OK) and I was meant to be Sally Ann. My mother thought of Simon in the hospital, ad that was it. She never knew why she thought of it.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? The day Bonita told me she’d resigned from work.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? I hate it.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Mortadella pepper.
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Just the Barney boy who refuses to accept he’s a dog, puts up with everything, and offers unbounded devotion in exchange for food and a cuddle,
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOURSELF? I’d have to be very patient if I was.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Wouldn’t cross my mind.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? No. They went when I was bout 6.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Only if you’ll go with me.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Weet-Bix.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Yep.
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Most of the time no.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Cocolate chip.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Face.
15. RED OR PINK? Red
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? My procrastination.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? Mum and Dad.
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? Absolutely. Everyone.
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Blue jeans, blue and grey sneakers
20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Chopped up banana and ice-cream (dessert) 21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Jamie Cullum “20 Something”
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Blue
23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Coconut or fresh coriander
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? One of the contractors at work.
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Of course. Who could not like Miss Melly.
*there is no 26
27. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Tennis and diving.
28. HAIR COLOR? Its grey now, but it was dark bown once
29. EYE COLOR? Brown
30. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Sometimes
31. FAVORITE FOOD? Pad Thai at The Balcony in Bangkok (sorry Mel, I had to get Thailand in somewhere)
32. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? I’’m an old sook. Happy Endings
33. WHAT WAS THE LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? On TV “”Memoirs of a Geisha” (prett to look at). At the movies “300” (liked it a lot)
34. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING??? Red and navy t-shirt
35. SUMMER OR Winter? Summer.
36. HUGS OR KISSES? hugs
37. FAVORITE DESSERT? Sticky Date Pudding
38. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Be lucky if anyone bothers.
39. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Most everybody. Well, you see, Mel has already done it . .
40. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? “Jasmine Nights” by S.P.Somtow
41. ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Haven’t you heard of a laser mouse?
42. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Nigella nothing
43. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SOUND? Rain
44. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles
45. WHAT IS THE FURTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? The U.K. – its about as far as you can get geographically. In terms of most different, soiritually, culturally etc, Cambodia.
46. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? Yes. Being me
47. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Melbourne, Australia
48. WHO'S ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK. Anybody’s – I ain’t choosy.
Monday, January 15, 2007
SMART BIRD
Someone left a KFC chip bucket at the bus-stop, with a drink can jammed into it. Just sitting on the bench. I'm sitting there, watching a blackbird trying very hard to get something out of one of the holes near the bottom. It was wary, hopping forward and pecking, but getting nothing. Trying both sides, still no luck. Pecked a little too hard and the bucket rocked, frightening the bird. It flapped a few feet away, then watched as the bucket settled down. Walked up to it again, cautiously, tried another peck, nothing. A harder peck, and it wobbled again. Cocked his head for a moment, looking at it, then suddenly flapped up, landed on top for a moment, then off again. Just enough to topple it, clear off the bench.
In a flash the can popped out, the bird swooped, and before the bucket had even come to rest, the bird was flying off, one large chip firmly in its beak.
I love birds. But sometimes they just seem too damned smart. Swear they'll take over one of these days.
Someone left a KFC chip bucket at the bus-stop, with a drink can jammed into it. Just sitting on the bench. I'm sitting there, watching a blackbird trying very hard to get something out of one of the holes near the bottom. It was wary, hopping forward and pecking, but getting nothing. Trying both sides, still no luck. Pecked a little too hard and the bucket rocked, frightening the bird. It flapped a few feet away, then watched as the bucket settled down. Walked up to it again, cautiously, tried another peck, nothing. A harder peck, and it wobbled again. Cocked his head for a moment, looking at it, then suddenly flapped up, landed on top for a moment, then off again. Just enough to topple it, clear off the bench.
In a flash the can popped out, the bird swooped, and before the bucket had even come to rest, the bird was flying off, one large chip firmly in its beak.
I love birds. But sometimes they just seem too damned smart. Swear they'll take over one of these days.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
TRADITION !
One of the all-time great musicals starts off with a song all about Tradition. Probably don’t really need to tell you which one, but just in case, it’s Fiddler on the Roof. Fiddler itself has nothing to do with what I’m writing about, but that opening song does.
I realised over this last “Festive Season” how important traditions can be. Now I’m not even talking about the kind of traditions they’re singing about in that song, not the ones religion or community develops, but the personal ones, the ones we establish for ourselves.
Some of them are common at this time of year – like putting the Christmas cards on the mantel-piece. Some I’m sure are shared. Like Carols by Candlelight. For me it’s simply not Christmas Eve without it. Used to be I’d settle down surrounded by wrapping paper and cards and presents, and spend the night carefully wrapping everything. It was the first really calming thing at Christmas, knowing it was too late to do anything else, no more shopping, no more worrying about what to buy for who. Just taking my time to make sure everything looked as good as I could possibly make it, and I used to go to town with the wrapping.
Seems my family don’t do presents much any more. Well, the Family Christmas is the week before anyway, now that the folks aren’t around any more, and the various kids are so torn between separated parents that the week before is the only time we can all get together. And we do kris Kringle now, no more everybody buying for everybody. It works well, really well. I guess that’s a new tradition come to think of it. And a sensible and successful one it is too.
So I don’t sit in front of the telly wrapping presents. But I still watch Carols bt Candlelight. It’s like old friends in a way, the people who turn up that you don’t see for the rest of the year. Even more than the performers it’s the songs. Pretty much the same ones each year, but that’s part of what makes it Christmas. That continuity. There must be parents bringing their kids along who were taken by their parents 20 years ago. It’s part of Melbourne, and it’s part of my Christmas.
Christmas Day is still full sit-down dinner. Not with the Family, but with the extended family, the one I’ve chosen. Funny, but we seem to talk about Christmases-past more there than we do with my family. Another new tradition, well no, not really new, just an old one that’s evolved into something a bit different, but every bit as special.
I don’t really do New Years Eve any more. Don’t like the drunken crowds – don’t much like sober ones even. I stay home. But again, TV – watch the fireworks, open the window to see the ones going up from the park out the back, tell the dog it’s all OK. Then my private New Years moment, the first song for the year. It’s always the same one. Has been for about 25 years I guess. ABBA – Happy New Year. Not very original, but just right.
Somewhere around New Years we seem to get the Last Night of the Proms on the telly too. Now that one really gets me. Every bloody time. Starts around about when they do the Hornpipe, you know, the one they start slow, then get faster and faster and impossibly faster. The audience are bobbing or clapping or stamping and tooting along. Love it. And Rule Brittania, and Land of Hope and Glory. I sing along with the best of them (it’s OK, the dog is an uncomplaining audience, he even seems to like it). It gets to me, because its wonderful, but also because it’s a constant Its reassuring that some things do actually stay the same, year after year. And at the start of another year, with all that we may hope will come, all that we hope will be different, I for one need to know that some things will not change.
One of the all-time great musicals starts off with a song all about Tradition. Probably don’t really need to tell you which one, but just in case, it’s Fiddler on the Roof. Fiddler itself has nothing to do with what I’m writing about, but that opening song does.
I realised over this last “Festive Season” how important traditions can be. Now I’m not even talking about the kind of traditions they’re singing about in that song, not the ones religion or community develops, but the personal ones, the ones we establish for ourselves.
Some of them are common at this time of year – like putting the Christmas cards on the mantel-piece. Some I’m sure are shared. Like Carols by Candlelight. For me it’s simply not Christmas Eve without it. Used to be I’d settle down surrounded by wrapping paper and cards and presents, and spend the night carefully wrapping everything. It was the first really calming thing at Christmas, knowing it was too late to do anything else, no more shopping, no more worrying about what to buy for who. Just taking my time to make sure everything looked as good as I could possibly make it, and I used to go to town with the wrapping.
Seems my family don’t do presents much any more. Well, the Family Christmas is the week before anyway, now that the folks aren’t around any more, and the various kids are so torn between separated parents that the week before is the only time we can all get together. And we do kris Kringle now, no more everybody buying for everybody. It works well, really well. I guess that’s a new tradition come to think of it. And a sensible and successful one it is too.
So I don’t sit in front of the telly wrapping presents. But I still watch Carols bt Candlelight. It’s like old friends in a way, the people who turn up that you don’t see for the rest of the year. Even more than the performers it’s the songs. Pretty much the same ones each year, but that’s part of what makes it Christmas. That continuity. There must be parents bringing their kids along who were taken by their parents 20 years ago. It’s part of Melbourne, and it’s part of my Christmas.
Christmas Day is still full sit-down dinner. Not with the Family, but with the extended family, the one I’ve chosen. Funny, but we seem to talk about Christmases-past more there than we do with my family. Another new tradition, well no, not really new, just an old one that’s evolved into something a bit different, but every bit as special.
I don’t really do New Years Eve any more. Don’t like the drunken crowds – don’t much like sober ones even. I stay home. But again, TV – watch the fireworks, open the window to see the ones going up from the park out the back, tell the dog it’s all OK. Then my private New Years moment, the first song for the year. It’s always the same one. Has been for about 25 years I guess. ABBA – Happy New Year. Not very original, but just right.
Somewhere around New Years we seem to get the Last Night of the Proms on the telly too. Now that one really gets me. Every bloody time. Starts around about when they do the Hornpipe, you know, the one they start slow, then get faster and faster and impossibly faster. The audience are bobbing or clapping or stamping and tooting along. Love it. And Rule Brittania, and Land of Hope and Glory. I sing along with the best of them (it’s OK, the dog is an uncomplaining audience, he even seems to like it). It gets to me, because its wonderful, but also because it’s a constant Its reassuring that some things do actually stay the same, year after year. And at the start of another year, with all that we may hope will come, all that we hope will be different, I for one need to know that some things will not change.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Christmas Weekend #2
Happy to report all went well.
Saturday night at Melly’s was great fun, excellent egg-nog so hard to resist, sangria, champagne cocktails, Dusty’s gingerbread. The inner man well looked after.
Entertainment provided rated a high mark of appreciation as well, much bowling and tennis on the UII. Tennis I was fine just playing with one hand, but for some reason I couldn’t do the bowling without going down in full bowling stance. Result, sore thigh muscles. At least I can remember why.
And of course there was the company, friendly, warm, comfortable.
Sunday to relax, sleep in, make sure everything is ready for the Big Day. Watched Carols By Candlelight as always. Not quite the same without wrapping lots of presents for the now-grown-up kids, but hey, the dog likes it when I sing along to anything. There’s something reassuring about how predictable it is, yet occasionally it manages to surprise us. The Newton Family all up there singing together kinda got to me, bit of a lump in the throat. So, I’m an old softy? I don’t mind that so much.
Monday and dinner once again at the oldest and dearest’s – oldest friend that is. Again, comfortable, relaxed, happy. Catching up after another year with Claire and her son Nicholas – who's taller (funny how teenagers do that over the course of a year), both of them definitely Good Value. (small in-joke). Time in there too to remember those who aren’t with us any more, there were a few losses this year unfortunately. Best of all with old friends is how much doesn’t need to be said – the shorthand of familiarity I guess. Just alluding to something (like “Good Value”) can trigger off so much, and a look or a quick smile confirms you’re thinking the same thing. Catch-phrases, and funnily enough talked about them with Mel out on the balcony Saturday night. There is nothing like old friends. Nothing. And no better way to spend Christmas.
Tuesday Boxing Day was a wash-out. No point dwelling on it. But friendship meant sticking it out and I fulfilled my obligations.
And that’s the Festive Season over till next year. Don’t even bother to ask me about New Years, doesn’t count for much as far as I’m concerned, just another number. Seen enough of them, won’t see another turn of century and its damned hard to top that, so it’s really just time to buy a new calendar and diary. Oh, and it’s three days off work.
Happy to report all went well.
Saturday night at Melly’s was great fun, excellent egg-nog so hard to resist, sangria, champagne cocktails, Dusty’s gingerbread. The inner man well looked after.
Entertainment provided rated a high mark of appreciation as well, much bowling and tennis on the UII. Tennis I was fine just playing with one hand, but for some reason I couldn’t do the bowling without going down in full bowling stance. Result, sore thigh muscles. At least I can remember why.
And of course there was the company, friendly, warm, comfortable.
Sunday to relax, sleep in, make sure everything is ready for the Big Day. Watched Carols By Candlelight as always. Not quite the same without wrapping lots of presents for the now-grown-up kids, but hey, the dog likes it when I sing along to anything. There’s something reassuring about how predictable it is, yet occasionally it manages to surprise us. The Newton Family all up there singing together kinda got to me, bit of a lump in the throat. So, I’m an old softy? I don’t mind that so much.
Monday and dinner once again at the oldest and dearest’s – oldest friend that is. Again, comfortable, relaxed, happy. Catching up after another year with Claire and her son Nicholas – who's taller (funny how teenagers do that over the course of a year), both of them definitely Good Value. (small in-joke). Time in there too to remember those who aren’t with us any more, there were a few losses this year unfortunately. Best of all with old friends is how much doesn’t need to be said – the shorthand of familiarity I guess. Just alluding to something (like “Good Value”) can trigger off so much, and a look or a quick smile confirms you’re thinking the same thing. Catch-phrases, and funnily enough talked about them with Mel out on the balcony Saturday night. There is nothing like old friends. Nothing. And no better way to spend Christmas.
Tuesday Boxing Day was a wash-out. No point dwelling on it. But friendship meant sticking it out and I fulfilled my obligations.
And that’s the Festive Season over till next year. Don’t even bother to ask me about New Years, doesn’t count for much as far as I’m concerned, just another number. Seen enough of them, won’t see another turn of century and its damned hard to top that, so it’s really just time to buy a new calendar and diary. Oh, and it’s three days off work.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Standing at the bus stop this morning. Middle-aged lady comes up, puts her shopping bag down on the seat, looks around, and asks;
“Is this the bus-stop?”
“Yes.”
Fifteen second pause.
“It’s not the station?”
No, it’s the bus stop.”
Thirty second pause.
“You’re SURE it’s not the station?”
“Yes – the station is up the road where the train goes, this is the bus-stop.”
Lady turns away, muttering, shaking her head. Eats a banana (I’m not kidding) occasionally loking at me and shaking her head. Obviously doesn’t believe me. I feel like reminding her you need train tracks for a train . . . .
The bus comes. She looks relieved, but I get one more scowl from her as she boards the bus.
“Is this the bus-stop?”
“Yes.”
Fifteen second pause.
“It’s not the station?”
No, it’s the bus stop.”
Thirty second pause.
“You’re SURE it’s not the station?”
“Yes – the station is up the road where the train goes, this is the bus-stop.”
Lady turns away, muttering, shaking her head. Eats a banana (I’m not kidding) occasionally loking at me and shaking her head. Obviously doesn’t believe me. I feel like reminding her you need train tracks for a train . . . .
The bus comes. She looks relieved, but I get one more scowl from her as she boards the bus.
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