A week ago today was a very different day to this Saturday. I can’t say that it has been the easiest week I have ever lived through, but I have survived, albeit with a hole in my heart where by beautiful Tess once lived. I simply can’t bring myself to write about the day again. On Sunday last week I added a brief summary of events to my blipfoto journal ~
“And so a new day begins, without our beautiful girl and the house and garden seem so quiet and still….
Josh, a close friend going back to childhood days, of my son Ben, who is now a vet, came to our home and helped Tess to end her suffering. We took her to a place in the garden where she loved to sit, an area of lawn near to the pool, and she lay there quietly as if she knew what was to come.
Josh was a God-send with his gentle voice and manner. Tess’s acceptance of what was to be, and being there with my two sons and husband as Tess gently closed her eyes was a beautiful end to our dear fury girl’s life. Tess now joins our other fury friends, our three other dogs, Sire, Bear and Nellie and our cat, Sunny, in the pet graveyard, in the garden beside the pool.”
The next day, we bought an azalea, and this is what I wrote on blipfoto the following day ~
“The back garden is so big and empty today and the veranda, where Tess’s bed once lay with her on it are both gone. And my mind has gone to mush. Even as I dressed myself this morning, I thought, “the last time I wore these clothes, Tess was still with us”. I know, it’s pathetic, and I have sewing to do for children who start back at school next week. What will the children wear to school if I don’t pull my finger out and get sewing?
I know this mopey feeling will pass. It’s just all so new right now, not having her around…
Yesterday we went looking for a plant to mark her grave and found a very pretty Azalea. Her grave is in a shady area, not far from two frangipani trees, so it will be a very lovely area when the garden there is completed.”
Tess’s Azalea.
I wrote these two passages on the day that they happened and I still ache inside as I re-read the words I wrote. I simply cannot write new words, so I hope you will forgive me for taking the easy road and adding what was already written.
Sweet Grand-Puppy, Bella.
But life goes on….my grand-puppy Bella, a gentle and affectionate Border Collie, has spent some days with me this week. She is a beautiful companion and she has made me laugh so many times. Bella being here has shown me that their is life after Tess, that I can love again.
Already, I know who my next puppy will be and I know her name. I see her face in my mind’s eye. She will find me when the time is right, but that time is not now. I think she will find me in a few months time, after my still-raw wounds of the heart have been given some time to heal.
My word for 2014 is Authentic. I could pretend that I’m feeling just fine, but in keeping with my word, I can’t, I wont pretend. I know that we made the right decision to let Tess sleep, that she is now running around the big field in the sky with her friend Nellie and that we will meet again one day. But it still hurts to lose her. I need time.
I thought I was okay, but my eyes are welling with tears again as I type. I know this will pass, but obviously there are still a few more tears that need to escape my eyes. When I think of all the kind and comforting messages my blogging and blipfoto friends have left me during the last week, again my eyes fill with tears, but tears of a different kind. These tears are those of gratitude for the kindness shown to me by so many people, people who I have mostly never met in person, yet I have been enveloped by hugs of kindness through the internet waves.
On the morning of Monday, the 30th of August, 1993, I dropped my son off at school, saw my daughter into her pre school-class and with my nine month old baby I visited my mother for the last time. Mum had lapsed into a coma on the Saturday afternoon so we knew the end was near. Up to that particular morning, before leaving my mother’s bedside I could only say to her “see you later”. The thought of never seeing her again terrified me. On this day, twenty years ago today, before leaving her room I noticed a pulse beating in her neck, she was still alive. Then I said the words I had feared ~ “Goodbye Mum”, yet the words came easily; it was time for me to let her go. Later I was told that a nurse saw me leave the room. She went in to check on my mum ~ she had gone.
Today, as I think of my mother, the angel and guide of my life for the past twenty years, I would love to take you all for a walk with me around the beautiful garden of another very important woman in my life, one who also lost a part of her own soul twenty years ago today, my sister, Vivien.
Azaleas
“Daylight
See the dew on the sunflower
And a rose that is fading
Roses whither away
Like the sunflower
I yearn to turn my face to the dawn
I am waiting for the day . . . ” ~ Memory from the Musical “Cats”, one of Mum’s favourite songs.
Cows across the road from Vivi’s home, grazing by the river. Such a beautiful view from her front door.
Having three sisters, all of whom were substantially older than me, may have robbed me of the fun times as a child of having sister’s for playmates, but the blessing it gave me was the joy of having three extra “mothers”.
Take a seat….
Vivi is my closest sister in age, she is twelve years older than me, and it was Vivi who mothered me the most throughout the years when I was growing up. We even went through a stage when she spent a considerable amount of time yelling at me, as I rebelled against her when I was a teenager! Now that’s real love…. 🙂
….we can read a story together.
My own children adore their auntie. My youngest son Adam said to me recently “there’s nothing to not like about Auntie Vivi”, and I totally agree with him, she’s just wonderful.
A very pretty bird, one which I don’t see at my place.
If my sister lived closer I would definitely see her more often. Vivi lives six hours drive south of me, so when Adam and I took our trip down south in late June I planned it so that we would be at Vivi’s place to help her celebrate her birthday this year.
This is a bird that stays put in Vivi’s garden.
One of Vivi’s sons, his wife and two children came around for dinner. Vivi had asked for take-away Chinese food, which she doesn’t have very often, for her birthday meal so she wouldn’t have to cook on her birthday, so that’s what we had.
Keeping an eye on the time.
Vivi is a fantastic cook and can throw together a delicious meal in no time at all! As a child I loved sleep-overs at Vivi’s home as her meals were yummy, her beds were always soft and comfy and we did fun things together, like cooking and going shopping.
The Zen Garden.
During another visit to my sister’s home just over two years ago, her grandson told me about all the fun things he and his grandma do together when he visits her. It was like deja vu for me to hear him speak. “I used to do those things with your grandma when I was a little girl too!” I told him. I’m not sure that he could quite grasp the concept of the age difference between me and Vivi though, and why I was a child when she was an adult!
Every garden needs at least one bird bath.
The day I took these photos it was raining although the dampness did not put a dampener on the calm atmosphere in the garden, if anything the duller natural light and the raindrops created an even more ambient atmosphere. I can imagine how beautiful it must be on a sunny day. These photos were taken on a wet, midwinter’s day.
Vivi isn’t a huge cat lover, so instead of “Puss in Boots” she has “Frogs in Boots”.
I am definitely pleased with the photos I took that day and I just love the whimsical ornaments Vivi has in her garden. Vivi and her husband have lived in this home for around nineteen years now, the same length of time I have lived in my home, but I remember her previous home in the Blue Mountains which had a full-sized wishing well in the front garden. It was magical.
No chance of this slow moving guy getting too far away!
Our mum loved her garden and preferred large, brightly coloured flowers to the dainty, paler variety. Anything unusual caught her eye and she was very fond of cactus plants and succulents. One of her favourite plants was her Zygocactus and I was thrilled to see Vivi had one in a hanging basket in her garden. They are not a particular favourite of mine, although I think I should get one. They bring back wonderful memories of the excitement my mum showed when her Zygocactus flowered.
One of Mum’s favourite plants, Zygocactus. And the bird in the small cage is an ornament!
Vivi loves frogs! She has quite a few in her home and around her garden, ornaments that is. I made her a cross stitch of three frogs in lily pads a few years ago. It took me ages to finish but it was well worth the effort as it looked fantastic when finished and framed.
Frog art in Vivi’s garden.
Before the night of Vivi’s birthday was over, Vivi’s grand-daughter asked if we would like a photo taken together. Jess is a lovely girl, and at age nineteen she speaks with Vivi as if she were her friend and not her grandmother. Vivi’s eldest son and family couldn’t make it for her birthday, he has three children, two sons and a gorgeous little daughter. I hope someday I have the same close bond with my grandchildren.
Me and my big sister Vivi.
Mum wasn’t overly fussed on the colour pink, she preferred yellow, but I’m still going to show you Vivi’s pretty pink Azaleas, and I will leave you with another verse of “Memories” from Cats, a song that my mum loved. I know she remembers, I know she loves us, I feel her with us; it seems like only yesterday I heard her laughter, felt her hands, combed her hair. How can it possibly be twenty years…..
Raindrops on the pink Azaleas.
“Memory
All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again…..”
In my herb garden, the dainty Dill flowers are looking simply beautiful.
I have something in common with my Dill plant. Hindsight is pointing out to me that I have been a bit of a “dill” recently.
Today, I feel as though the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders, and all it took to remove that weight was a morning spent in the hospital.
I have had a health issue for a few months now and my doctor sent me for a pelvic ultra sound. The results came back, which he somberly told me “showed some abnormalities”. What I didn’t tell my doctor, for fear of an over-reaction on his part, which would have sent me into a blinding spin of fear, was that my grandmother had died of a disease which I had the symptoms of.
Was this disease hereditary? I didn’t know. But you hear so many stories in the news of families who are pre-disposed to a certain illness. Was this one of them? I also knew that my symptoms may be nothing too serious at all. But in my state of panic, I managed to pre-empt the worst case scenario.
A visit to my one time obstetrician, these days gynecologist, abated my fears. No, although there may be a slight and very distant link to my symptoms as a hereditary disease, I was not a high risk case, having not one single “yes” to any known risk factor. I felt reassured.
So yesterday morning at 6 am, off I went to the hospital, to undergo a procedure which would fix my problem, amid a massive dose of nerves, fear, terror, dry mouth, racing heart, you name the “worry” symptom, I had it. By 1 pm, I was back at home again, slightly groggy, still very dry of mouth and starving hungry.
This morning I had a phone call from my gynecologists nurse, enquiring how I was feeling after my night at home. I assured her that I am feeling great, which I am, then I managed to muster up the courage to ask her if she knew how my procedure had gone. Her words were music to my ears, “Doctor has noted that everything went through without any problems and he has no concerns”.
Yes!!!!
See now why I think I may have been a bit of a dill? I’m such a healthy person, I rarely even come down with a cold these days, yet when something health-wise does go amiss I tend to always imagine the worst thing possible is wrong with me. I also hibernate.
Two weeks can change everything, I have discovered. In my last post, I had to get something out in the open. I realised that holding “bad stuff” inside of me was eating away at me, affecting my health and my state of mind. I hate to burden people with my worries and fears, or any adverse emotion for that matter, yet I had reached the stage where I couldn’t carry the burden alone any longer. I had to open up, and the response I got from you all was amazing! All of your comments brought tears to my eyes, I felt the caring in your words, and oh my, you have no idea how wonderful it made me feel! Thank you, one and all, for caring. I hadn’t really expected anyone to comment at all, as it was such a down-toned post, I just needed to get my worries out into The Universe . You were all so fantastic in your support; thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Sharing my worries with you all also gave me the courage to speak with my family about my wish to live elsewhere, especially with my husband. I told him that I have to be what he would no doubt regard as me being selfish, as I am causing myself to have health issues through my dissatisfaction with my life. I only have myself to blame. My restlessness ended up manifesting itself within my body, forming into something which only a hospital procedure could rectify.
I believe that we are all responsible for our own thoughts, our own health, our own actions. We cannot hold another person responsible for our problems. When we are faced with an issue which we regard as something adverse, we have choices in how we cope with the problem. I know these things in my own mind and believe them with all my heart. It’s just that being a human being can get in the way sometimes, we can veer off track and mess things up. Yet we know we can do better.
That is how I’ve felt lately. Trying to cope with issues alone, trying not to burden my family, trying to carry my problem around by myself and work things out all by myself, so as not to worry my family with anything. I’ve been messing up, monumentally, in a very human way.
I should never have feared, my family were there for me, I felt their love and support. As one of my daughters has told me recently, as a child, she was the dependant one, coming to me with her problems. Now she is an adult, the tables can turn sometimes, I can go to her with my problems, and she can help me, she’s an adult now. Isn’t that sweet?
We are coming up with ideas, left, right and centre, about how we can have the best of both worlds, by keeping our home here, which I absolutely love, and my children never want to see leave our family, and having another home, where I can spend some of the year, in the place of my heart, the Blue Mountains. With compromise, planning and time, we are aiming to have it all.
I read a passage this morning, written by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, which really spoke to me. It is so easy to become buried amid the humdrum of day to day life and lose focus of the big picture. It’s a matter of learning to focus on both aspects of one’s life. I’d like to share his words with you here ~
“One of the huge imbalances in life is the disparity between your daily existence, with its routines and habits, and the dream you have within yourself of some extraordinarily satisfying way of living. Buried within you is an unlimited capacity for creation that’s anxious to plant seedlings to fulfill your dreams and your destiny. The absence of balance between dreams and daily routine can reveal itself in symptoms of depression, illness, or anxiety—but it’s more often something that feels like an unwelcome companion by your side, which continually whispers to you that you’re ignoring something. You sense that there’s a higher agenda; your way of life and your reason for life are out of balance. Until you pay attention, this subtle visitor will continue to prod you to regain your equilibrium.
When you live your life going through the motions, it may seem to be convenient, but the weight of your dissatisfaction creates a huge imbalance in the only life you have now. It shows up when you’re sound asleep and your dreams are filled with reminders of what you’d love to be, but you wake and return to pursuing your safe routine. Allow yourself to think about this “fire from heaven.” What are your dreams and how can you shift your thinking habits to match your dreams? Commit to thinking about what you want, rather than how impossible or difficult that dream may seem. Give your personal dreams a place to hang out so that you can see them in your imagination and they can soak up the energy they deserve. Thoughts are mental energy; they’re the currency that you have to attract what you desire. Learn to stop spending that currency on thoughts you don’t want. Your body might continue, for a while, to stay where it’s been trained to be, but meanwhile, your thoughts are being aligned with your dreams. Align your inner creative energy—your thoughts—so that they match up perfectly with your desires. Dream and you shall become.” ~ Dr. Wayne W. Dyer.
I am dreaming, and this time I am sharing my dreams. Without anyone else losing their dreams, I can have mine. Oh how I do love compromise!
Next time I write I will be back to my usual self, with photos, happiness, joy and well being. Thank you for being my blogging friends. And please, if any of you have a dream, go for it!
“Never give up on a dream just because of the time it will take to accomplish it. Time will pass anyway.” ~ Earl Nightingale.
Winter wattle in bloom at Leura, on the Blue Mountains, July 3rd.
“Sometimes change in our lives is slow and steady, sometimes it happens really fast. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes not so good. Having to adjust to new circumstances, people, or places is never easy and we have to be kind to ourselves and trust that, with time, we will settle in – if we’re in the place we’re meant to be…
I just felt these words were meant for someone – no idea who! But whoever it is, hope it helps…” Sue.
When I read the comment above this morning, written by Sue, a Blipfoto friend, her words spoke volumes to me. I really enjoy adding a photo each day to the blip website, well, most days. I’ve been lacking in motivation of late, for blip, blogging, gardening, everything that I usually love really. My mine has been all a-muddle.
I’ve heard it said so many times before that “life is a journey”; it has become a cliché really. My life’s journey began to steer itself into a different direction, with me controlling the steering of course, about six years ago. That’s when I began to write again, which led me to blogging. That’s how long I’ve been searching for “me”, for the last six years. Many of the posts I have added to my various blogs have started out with me trying to work something out in my mind, to get some clarity on what is happening at that time, to try to learn something new. By the time I have finished writing and have re-read what I have written, I also realise that what I have just said may actually strike a chord with another person too, and that maybe, just maybe, my battle through my confusion might actually help someone else’s muddled brain also. It would be a massive bonus if that did happen.
Once upon a time I wrote a monthly post on another website and my section was called “Freedom Space”. Whilst I enjoyed the website and the community feel of it, I also felt like a fraud and lost the will to write about freedom, when freedom was exactly the thing I was in search of myself. How could I pose as an authority on gaining freedom, when I hadn’t a clue how to get it for myself?
It’s my own doing though, this lack of freedom that I feel. If I had been a more dominant person, if I practised standing up to people who tell me what to do more often than I have done, if I didn’t dislike confrontation so much…..if, if, if….. But I can’t change the past. I shouldn’t have to spend my entire life moulding myself into the person that I’m “expected” to be either, none of us should.
My mother dominated, I rebelled, I felt bad, I apologised, we’d argue, I felt bad again, I apologised again, she’d tell me that she knew what was best for me, she knew what I should have in life. Being such an authoritative figure in my life, I moulded myself to suit her ways, yet it never did quite gel for me, when I realised that I wasn’t my mother, I was me, a whole different person to her.
When I finally left home, (against my mother’s better judgement of course), it was with another dominant person, this time a male. My beliefs being as they are, I would often tell him that he must have been my father in a previous lifetime, as he sure did seem to enjoy telling me what to do. It was like I had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. He dominated, I rebelled, I felt bad, I apologised, we’d argue, I felt bad again, I apologised again, he’d tell me that he knew what was best for me, he knew what I should have in life – him. Yet he constantly hurt me. I would feel crushed to the core. When he realised that he had gone too far he would comfort me, try to make amends, say the words I wanted to hear. I’d believe him. He’d say things would change. They never did. And so it would all happen again, the arguments, the hurt, the comforting…….
So many times during my adult life I have found myself telling him, “I’m not a female version of you”. Isn’t that silly? Why would anyone want a person to be that much like themselves? Yet it (still) seems to me that that is exactly what he wants from me.
I went away recently for eleven days, eleven glorious days, just my youngest son (he was on school holidays) and me. We drove about one thousand kilometres south of our home, down to Penrith and the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, the area where I grew up, the area I still call “home”. My parents took me away from this area when I was thirteen. I didn’t want to leave. I moved back there when I left home, still a teenager. Twenty-one years ago I moved north again, feeling I had to as my mother was seriously ill. When she was gone, I wanted to go back, he didn’t want to, so we stayed up north, while my heart longed to be down south.
Now that I’m home though, back up north, the muddled mind has set in. Driving north again, as the coolness of the winter air we had enjoyed left us, and the heat of the north set in, I resented the sun and I resented the heat. This is winter, it should be cold now!
I just didn’t want to come back here, but I had to. My son is still at school, he needs his mother still, he hasn’t reached that almost-an-adult stage of his life yet, when he will have his independence and can make choices for his own life.
Please, oh please, my boy, make your own choices! Choose your own life! Don’t spend half a lifetime trying to make another person happy whilst compromising your own happiness; ultimately you will grow to resent them! Don’t make my mistakes! Learn from me, my beautiful son, learn! Feel the freedom! Enjoy your choices!
It has occurred to me recently, no, I’m down-playing this, it actually dropped on me like a bolt of lightning from the sky recently that we are all put on this earth with lessons we must learn. If the lessons are not learned, the problem will carry with you into the next lifetime, again with the same people. You will be given the same lessons, again and again, until you finally get it right. My lesson is that I must learn to walk away from the control-freaks, those who want to run my life. No matter how hard it is for me, I have to learn to walk away, to not fall into the same trap, time and time again, of being dominated, of being told by another that they know better than I do what is best for me.
So, as my blip friend Sue pointed out this morning, the changes may be slow, it may be scary adjusting to new people and new places, but I have to follow my heart over the next eighteen months and find the place where I am meant to be.
Right now, my heart is so torn. As much as I love being at my beloved Blue Mountains, my children would all be one thousand kilometres away. I don’t know how I would deal with not seeing them all regularly. We all have to live our own lives, but it is very comforting, knowing my dearest souls are not too far away.
I have so many photos which I want to share with you all! Yet since I have been home, when I look at the photos, my heart aches for the place I want to be. Is it the place I am meant to be? Time will tell. And I will give myself a talking to and add my holiday photos here for you all to see. How odd that sounds, “holiday photos”, yet they are the photos of the place that I regard as my home. Here, where I live now, I am ten minutes drive away from a world-famous holiday destination, the Gold Coast. It’s all rather back-to-front, really.
This is such a “down” post! Please, don’t let my words drag your spirits down. I’ve written this today to get it off my chest, to “come clean”. My posts are so erratic, I can go for weeks without writing anything, and I don’t ever want any of my blogging friends to think I don’t appreciate them; I appreciate each one of you. Reading your stories helps lift my day more than any of you could ever imagine. But some days I just don’t have the time to write, and if I go to the computer at night, I have been told that I’m spending too much time at the computer. So please, I hope you will bear with me. I’m still here, I appreciate your friendships. You all inspire me so much and for that, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. 🙂
I really have no idea where the whole of last week went to. Do you suppose I could blame my broken down dishwasher for my lack of writing time? I could if I wanted to, but really, I’m still enjoying hand washing my cups, dishes and plates every night, and even though this spare part which is on order for the repairs has already taken double the estimated time to arrive, I’m in no hurry to hassle the repair guy to have it fixed. I’m finding dishwashing rather therapeutic at the end of a long day. 🙂
The building of the new World Trade Centre.
I did spend a lot of time away from home last week actually, some time spent on work related events and some on pleasure, so while you look through the rest of the New York photos that my son Ben has given me to show you all, I will tell you about my pleasurable adventures.
Memorials at Ground Zero.
I’ve said it before, but Ben really did enjoy his eight-day stay in New York City. I would rather like to go there myself one day, although eight days would be way too much time in the big city for this quiet blogger! Ben seemed to have been quite moved by his visit to the Ground Zero memorials and seeing the new building in progress there. He vividly remembers the unbelievable news hitting Australia on the morning of 9/11 as do we all.
New building against the blue spring skies.
So, back to last week. Ben and my eldest daughter Hayley had bought me a beautiful oil painting on canvas, about four years ago now, which required framing. An unnamed party had promised to have it framed for me, so the canvas had waited patiently on the shelf in my cupborad for four long years, waiting. With Mother’s Day approaching last Sunday, one day during the week Hayley had asked me if there was anything I could think of that I would specifically like to be given as a Mother’s Day gift.
9/11 Memorials.
Apparently (according to Hayley) I am a very easy person to buy for, as I like so many things and have so many interests! That’s good to know, as some people are absolutely impossible to please! So I gave her question some thought and soon remembered my lovely oil painting, awaiting a frame. Ben and Hayley are again going shares in this gift, but Hayley asked me if I would like to go with her to the framing shop to choose a frame that I would be happy with.
White roses.
I suggested we make a lunch date of it, inviting my other daughter Emma to come along as well, so off the three of us went to see a man who Hayley had spoken to on the phone.
Choosing a frame for my lovely painting turned out to be quite the memorable experience. As a general rule, I take people as I find them, but I must admit that I found this picture framing shop proprietor to be just a tad, shall we say, over the top with his comments?
Firstly, he asked my daughter how much she had paid for the painting, rude to begin with, I thought, followed by, “I hope you didn’t pay any more than $20.00 for it”!!
Brooklyn Bridge.
Throughout the course of us choosing a frame, he managed to insult the colours of my home, explained to him by my girls in an effort to have him show us the desired coloured frames, and he also laughed profusely at his own jokes…..which I would describe as sarcastic comments rather than jokes.
So whilst The Obnoxious One guffawed away to himself, my girls and I had a great old time, ignoring him, and helping ourselves to various coloured frames which we sat beside the painting.
Bustling New York.
Digressing slightly, is the above photo Times Square, can anyone tell me? Ben and his mates were in Times Square one morning and were approached by someone giving away free tickets to the David Letterman Show. All they needed to do was answer some simple USA topical questions, which none of them knew the answers to being freshly arrived from Australia, so blatant hints were handed out, they won their three free tickets to the show and had a great time applauding throughout the show on queue and laughing loudly when requested!
Central Park.
Now, back to the framing shop, where my daughters and I had made our choice of frame, being ultimately my choice, although my daughters both agreed they could see it looking wonderful where I had told them both I would be hanging my painting. The Obnoxious One disagreed with my choice, adding, “You’ll probably end up having your own way, women usually do”…..okay, is it just me? Was that rude and insulting? Although I didn’t voice the words, I did think, “You’re darn tootin’ I’ll get my way!” Geeeezzzz……..
Central Park against the buildings of New York.
Between guffaws, The Obnoxious One did relate a very interesting story, of how he had taken a recent delivery of framed pictures from a deceased estate. Almost an entire family had been killed in an accident, with one remaining survivor, and the spirits of the deceased had helped him, he claimed, with frame choices since they arrived.
I wonder if the spirits had mentioned to him the old adage, “The customer is always right”? 😉
Spring in Central Park.
Back to the USA, and here we are in Central Park. Ben told me that the park was positively huge, and they didn’t have the opportunity to cover the whole area. I had rather hoped he would find John Lennon’s memorial area of “Strawberry Fields”, but unfortunately not.
Apparently one day, a huge crowd was clustering in an area where a celebrity had arrived, causing great excitement in the area. It turned out to be Ricky Martin, who is this year one of the judges on the Australian version of “The Voice”, and what a very lovely man he seems to be too.
Looking over the water from Central Park.
After stamping my foot in a most polite and woman-like fashion, getting my way and ordering my picture frame from The Obnoxious One, Hayley, Emma and I went back to Coolangatta for an alfresco lunch of sushi, just across the road from Coolangatta Beach. Emma passed me some chopsticks to eat my sushi with, followed by instructions on how to use them, telling me “It’s easy, mum!” I’m happy to say that most of the delicious sushi reached my mouth (apart from that one piece that dropped, then proceeded to fly across the table, nearly landing in Emma’s lap!)
Hmm….next time, I’m asking for a fork!
Katz’s Delicatessan, apparently a very famous deli in New York.
In other last-week-related-news, I decided to stop adding posts to one of my other blogs, “A Sense of Spirit”, not due to lack of interest, but rather because I am finding more and more that the posts I’m adding here at Home Life usually relate to spirit in some way anyway. It seems to me that the two blogs do not have separate purposes, so I have transferred all the content from “A Sense of Spirit” across to this blog, tagging all the posts with “A Sense of Spirit” for easy finding. Combining the two seemed like the sensible thing to do.
Wall Street.
Ben’s last three photos here of Wall Street, the Stock Exchange and the Trump Building seem to me to be very “Ben-ified” places to visit. He is, and always has been fascinated by the workings of the stock market and is the most amazingly disciplined person with money that I have ever met in my life!
Not only is he first-rate when it comes to saving money, he can keep a secret like no one else I know. As a two year old, I would tell him, “Don’t let anyone know what their Christmas present is, it’s a surprise” and that boy wouldn’t breathe a word, not for any amount of coaxing in the world!
The Stock Exchange.
I seem to have waffled on a bit today, so hope I haven’t sent anyone to sleep with my ramblings.
Please do let me know if I have labeled any of Ben’s photos incorrectly. In the next leg of the trip, he and his mates headed south to Nashville and he loved it there too. I think it’s safe to say that Ben loved his trip to America.
The Trump Building.
Finally, here are the links to all the posts I have transferred across from “A Sense of Spirit”. Please do not feel obliged to read all or any of them, they are just here for anyone who may be interested. I do, however, recommend reading “The Optimist’s Creed”, very sage words indeed. I wish I had written them!
In My World 