The parks near Montclare are open and inviting and hardly anyone in them in the mornings. The flowers can be enjoyed in peace and quiet. The native birds squawk and carry on and sometimes sing a pretty song while they potter around their garden.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Family time
Spent time with family today, something that does not happen enough. We went to Bowral and just hung around chatting and eating and drinking, celebrating birthdays and laughing and telling stories.
Pottering around is fun; rambling around conversations and table spaces, making up silly football rules with the boys - like the hand signs for tickling in rucks, throwing scraps for the kookaburra, watching the ducks pottering around on the water.
The sun was warm, the food was nice and the company the best.
Time is precious, we hold onto precious memories and create more, and could have even more.
Pottering around is fun; rambling around conversations and table spaces, making up silly football rules with the boys - like the hand signs for tickling in rucks, throwing scraps for the kookaburra, watching the ducks pottering around on the water.
The sun was warm, the food was nice and the company the best.
Time is precious, we hold onto precious memories and create more, and could have even more.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Pottering in the Boxes
Pottering around in the garage, putting away bags and sorting through travel packs - nice and quiet. No interruptions. Plenty of time to think. A pile of clothing waits to be sorted.
Sift and store - medicines, clear containers, bits and pieces that make my life work.
Pack it in boxes. Neat boxes on top of each other.
The news last night showed a man - a Somali refugee. Probably the same age as my husband, yet he looked so much older; gnarled and wizened. He said how he left his farm and walked with his wife and child to Kenya. His wife and child died on the way. He had only what he stood up in. Nothing at all. Just one piece of clothing on his back.
Sift and store - medicines, clear containers, bits and pieces that make my life work.
Pack it in boxes. Neat boxes on top of each other.
The news last night showed a man - a Somali refugee. Probably the same age as my husband, yet he looked so much older; gnarled and wizened. He said how he left his farm and walked with his wife and child to Kenya. His wife and child died on the way. He had only what he stood up in. Nothing at all. Just one piece of clothing on his back.
Friday, August 19, 2011
It is for the Birds
So much of this stuff is rubbish. We are in a little bubble in Australia. Protected, well fed, educated, empowered. We go about our lives with little understanding of why the riots in London, why the starvation in Somalia, why Auschwitz. The news is on - the news is over. Carry on.
I potter around in my backyard.
I have birds in my backyard. Little finches in a cage. Some people have dogs. Cute little miniature dachshunds, fluffy white things, chihuahuas called Tiger, Labradoodles. Some have pit bulls that go next door and attack and kill children playing in their own backyards. A whole life - a whole lifetime.
It is for the birds.
I potter around in my backyard.
I have birds in my backyard. Little finches in a cage. Some people have dogs. Cute little miniature dachshunds, fluffy white things, chihuahuas called Tiger, Labradoodles. Some have pit bulls that go next door and attack and kill children playing in their own backyards. A whole life - a whole lifetime.
It is for the birds.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Getting Back to Normal
It has been two weeks since we returned from our travels.
Jet lagging was done in Singapore so we were free to readjust to society.
Friends and family are wonderful to return to. Housework and mundane things are welcome after feasting. Not being on the move is great after so many miles. The mind is not so easily set back into 'rutsville'. Every action is up for reassessment, each choice bounced off different walls, demands met with some resistance.
Pottering is a great sifter. Little jobs help to sort through the huge pile of who we are and what we do and start to repair the fabric of what we should be doing. Recalculate.
Jet lagging was done in Singapore so we were free to readjust to society.
Friends and family are wonderful to return to. Housework and mundane things are welcome after feasting. Not being on the move is great after so many miles. The mind is not so easily set back into 'rutsville'. Every action is up for reassessment, each choice bounced off different walls, demands met with some resistance.
Pottering is a great sifter. Little jobs help to sort through the huge pile of who we are and what we do and start to repair the fabric of what we should be doing. Recalculate.
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