A Sense of Spirit · Australia · daughter · photography · son

Two Posts in One…or Two Countries…or Too Much?!

A church in New York.
A church in New York.

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.
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 Gound Zero.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!

Believe in yourself.

The Optimist’s Creed.

A Chair to Remember.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

The Souls we remain with throughout time.

A Synopsis of Spirituality.

The Car with Spirit.

Finding Uncle Albert.

A Bond that Lasts for Eternity.

Thoughts as I press my nose against the window of life.

Taking our own advice.

A Sense of Spirit · blessings · daughter · gratitude · Mum · son

Mother’s Day 2013.

Happy Mother's Day to my friends.
Happy Mother’s Day to my friends.

“The most precious jewels you will ever have around your neck
are the arms of your children.” ~ Unknown.

I write this the morning after Mother’s Day, on a cold and misty Monday morning here in Australia. There was no time for sitting at my desk yesterday, I was far too busy enjoying my four children, who all spent most of the day with me for Mother’s Day.

We enjoyed lunch together, ate way too much food, followed by cakes and coffee. My mother-in-law was here as well and the four of us girls chatted away together at the dinner table long after the meal had ended, while the boys watched football matches on the television.

What more could a mother ask?

If really pushed, I could answer that question in an instant ~ if I could have seen my own mother at the table with us, chatting with us as she so loved to do, oh, how wonderful that would have been.

I know she was here, I just couldn’t see her. She visits me often, I know, and I do talk to her, I just don’t hear her replies.

That’s the way it is though, with mother’s and their children, the bond lasts forever, nothing can ever part them, and we rejoice in the new generations whilst holding the past generations still very close to our hearts.

With the time differences throughout the world it may still be Mother’s Day in your part of the world as you read this now, and if so, I wish you the happiest of days filled with the love of your children in your heart. And even if, like me, you are too busy with your babies and are reading my wishes after the actual day, the wishes still remain. Don’t you think that every day is a very special day in the world, when we are the mother of someone?

I know I do.

So, from my heart to yours, I wish you the happiest days forever and always, days filled with the love of with being a mum. xxxxxx

My mum and me. This tiny doll stands at only three inches tall and was saved by my mum for many years after I had finished playing with it.
My mum and me. This tiny doll stands at only three inches tall and was saved by my mum for many years after I had finished playing with it.
birthdays · daughter · rain · reading

It’s my birthday and I’ll be in a mood if I want to.

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I’m a creature of habit. I could blame my star sign for this fact if I really wanted to. They say that those born under the sign of Taurus the Bull are predictable creatures. I can be sometimes, but not always. Many years ago my mother had an astrological chart made up for me, based on my place of birth and actual date and time, the grand conclusion being that my personality is heavily influenced by the sign of Libra the Scales, meaning that I like balance in my life. According to the Wise Astrologer my mum met way back when, I have more of a Libra personality than Taurean, however I remain a self-confessed creature of habit. Is that the Taurean side of me, or the Libra? I often question myself.

So, being the creature of habit that I am, one of the first things I did this morning was to check Facebook. Already I had received a few happy birthday messages, yet pleased as I felt to be thought of, I didn’t feel inclined to reply. Not yet, anyway.

Adam needed to be extracted from his cosy bed (again) and rushed off to school on the last minute (again). His father complained that he refused to get out of bed on time (again). Big brother Ben complained that Adam thumped him in the stomach as he walked by, just as Ben was taking a mouthful of hot coffee. (Don’t you make a habit of thumping Adam every time you are within thumping distance of him, Ben? It’s your brotherly thing that you always do.)

Father continued to ask Adam if he was ready to leave yet, when obviously he wasn’t. Ben continued to drink his coffee. Adam continued to dither.

Adam rarely complains, but makes a habit of doing so, constantly, when his father is about. Father complains, constantly, about anything and everything. Ben hardly ever, if ever, complains.

Do I want to go out for dinner tonight, husband asks. The dishwasher is broken, it would be easier, I am told. Easier for whom, I wonder. There are enough left-overs from last nights dinner for tonight. Besides, left-overs always taste better than they did when first made. And he knows I prefer to stay at home at night, so why think I would want to go out to dinner on my birthday?

Yesterday was a great day. I took photos at Point Danger, standing atop the lookout, gazing across the blue/green ocean, watching keen surfers catching the waves, seeing a boat or two navigate the bar of the Tweed River, which leads out into the ocean. I bought cappuccino at the cafe across the road and read my book, sipping coffee, as I awaited the arrival of my two daughters, mother-in-law and best friend, who were joining me for lunch.

Lunch was fun. The food tasted great (as always) and we chatted constantly. Later, when home, my family arrived for dinner, and the dinner I had prepared yesterday, even though freshly prepared and not at the left-overs stage yet, still tasted delicious. The house was filled with ten people, three dogs, two cats and a bird, all of whom wished to get their two cents worth into the conversation.

Chaos reined supreme; all was well with the world.

So why am I feeling so melancholy today then, I ponder.

Once the complainers, non complainers and those in between had left me all alone in a peaceful house, I ate breakfast, put on a load of washing and read a chapter of the book I had been reading yesterday over coffee, the book which is taking me far too long to read, as I never seem to find any time to read lately.

My plan for today was to go to a very large book shop on the Gold Coast, so large that it is on two levels and has an adjoining coffee shop, yet I’ve wandered around the house from room to room, chore to chore, wearing my denim jeans and white and grey mid-season jumper. It’s a grey kind of day today. There have even been a few spots of rain. That’s okay though, I like the rain.

I read a few more pages of my book, this time whilst sipping Chai Tea. I also read an article on the internet ~ “What age is middle-age?” they ask. “Why does everyone and everything have to be labelled”, I ask? The comments were quite interesting (I didn’t leave one myself, if you’re wondering) and I noticed that a couple of forty-ish year olds regarded themselves as feeling worn out, haggard and having reached middle-age. I’m past the forty-ish stage, and I’m here to tell anyone who cares to listen, age is a state of mind. As your children grow older and begin to leave home, you begin to feel less haggard and worn out. You become younger. Your life becomes your own again. You can put yourself first. You can do the things you want to do, instead of the things you have to do.

Today, even though thus far I am not doing what I had planned on doing, the day feels like a grey kind of day and I’m in a “mood”, I’m okay with all that. I don’t get into “moods” very often. It isn’t even a bad mood that I’m in, just simply a mood. Even though I don’t feel inclined towards conversation, my mood prompted me to write, even if the writing is simply about my mood.

It’s my birthday, so I guess I can be in any mood I wish to be today.

Having pondered my mood, I feel that I am in a reflective state of mind. I’m very comfortable with my company and thoughts today. So long as I don’t consider anyone else (in my real-world life) today, I am at peace.

Who knows what that means! Yet I don’t need to know. I believe that I will enjoy my birthday much more when the collective population of the world can quit labelling people, according to their age. I am not feeling the way I am meant to feel, (according to my age). I do not have a great desire to become a grandmother (which apparently I should, according to my age).  I do not wish to wear my hair cut short and allow it to grey gracefully (which I should, because I am at that age).

Tonight, I will be the odd person, as I wish to eat my left-overs from last night, warmed up, whilst wearing my comfy pyjamas and dressing gown, in front of the TV, watching a DVD that my daughter gave me for my birthday. I will not be getting dolled up to the nines, because I “should” want to, and go out to dinner, because it’s the thing to be done on one’s birthday. And I will wash the dinner dishes, because, heck, I enjoy washing my dishes! Who needs a dishwasher anyway?

While I’m at it, I may even polish my coffee table and clean the kitchen windows. And I will do these things, not because I’m “middle-aged”, but because I like to do these things ~ always have, even when I was in my twenties, and no doubt always will. (I even enjoyed having my birthday dinner at home, back in the middle ages, or whenever it was that I was in my twenties.) Yet silly me denied enjoying these menial tasks, thinking I wasn’t a very “cool” person if I admitted to such wild and crazy things.

Today, May the Second, Two-Thousand-and-Thirteen, is my birthday. I will spend the day doing the things I want to do. I will not wear a label of my age. I will not cut my hair short, nor go grey. I will enjoy eating my home-cooked dinner tonight and I will enjoy washing my dishes. I will turn a deaf ear to anyone who wishes to complain. I may even take a vow of silence for the day. And I will apologise to no one.

I will, however, contemplate the question “why must we live through a number of years on this earth, before gaining enough wisdom to simply be ourselves?”

The rain has become heavier, the grey day continues, and I’m enjoying my moody day.

blessings · ducks · friends · gratitude

Quiet Sunday Morning.

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It is around 8 am Sunday morning, as I linger over my beloved computer, amid the messy desk where I have dropped opened mail for over a week now. I’m stealing just a few moments, catching up with a few blogging friends, knowing that soon I must leave again.

Work beckons. I thought I had completed making most of the school uniforms (that is my business, I make school uniforms for a few local schools) for the children starting the new school year at the end of January. Apparently not. Sales of school uniforms this year have increased drastically from the last few years. Schools have under-estimated the quantities they would be needing. Which is a good thing really, as it suggests that the economy has improved in my area.

“Quack!” What was that I heard? Am I going quackers? Being so engrossed in reading about snow storms on the other side of the world, I almost missed the visitor I had in my own back garden!

"Is anyone awake yet? Where is everyone?"
“Is anyone awake yet? Where is everyone?”

Mr and Mrs Duck disappeared a few months ago. I’m positive that somewhere out there, they now have a cute little family of ducklings. I haven’t seen their family, but I have seen other Australian Wood Ducks around, who have cute little ducklings trailing behind. I see them often, toddling along the banks of the creek, which I pass on my way to work.

My own ducky friends returned at the end of last month. Both Mr and Mrs have been here a couple of times, but this morning it was just Mrs Duck, perched upon the side fence, quacking away to….who exactly was she quacking to? She didn’t say….

The day has begun so quietly, everyone in my house is having a Sunday morning sleep-in, and even the birds are quiet. It seems that in the bird-world, as well as in the people-world, one or the other is having a sleep in. Mr Magpie came for a visit, Mrs Magpie was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's my breakfast?"
“Where’s my breakfast?”

The sun is shining, the air is still, and I must leave for work again.

It will be a productive day. I know that. How could it be anything other, when I started the day so beautifully? 🙂

Australia · music · photography

Iconically pegged out to dry

clothesline1

The Australian icon I will be focusing on today is something just a bit different and no, it is not a kookaburra, although they occasionally play a part in this story, being the gregarious birds that they are!

Today’s icon is the humble clothesline, or to be more precise, The Hills Hoist.

I’ll bet you didn’t see that one coming! 😉

The Hills Hoist, an Australian invention was first manufactured in Adelaide, South Australia in 1945 by Lance Hill and has become a standard item in the back yards of suburban Australia for several decades.

I would have been lost without my Hills Hoist during the years that my four children were growing up and even these days with only two children and two adults living at home, it surely does make washing day so much easier.

Hills

And as you can see, our Hills Hoist rotary clothes lines are not only useful for hanging out the washing to dry. Where would our kookaburras perch so near to the house without a clothesline being there? Mind you, they pay no regard to the fact that the clothes are clean before they hop upon their magical merry-go-rounds.

How do the folks in cold climates manage their washing days? I’ve heard that laundry rooms are built to be far bigger in countries where the weather is….um….not the best for hanging the washing outdoors to dry, shall I say.

Seriously, how do you dry your clothes when there is snow on the ground reaching up as high as the rooftops?! Are electric clothes dryers the norm in the Northern Hemisphere? When I contemplate such thoughts, I have to admit that perhaps I do take our predominantly fine weather for granted!

clothesline 3

Speaking of the weather, the song I have chosen for you to listen to today is “Weather With You” from Crowded House. The members of Crowded House are technically New Zealanders but they did make their name here in Australia, so we have claimed them as our own.

The video was filmed in Victoria and shows a cute little old caravan travelling around with the band, which leads me to another question. Here in Australia, taking a holiday road trip and towing a caravan behind the car is quite common place, but I wonder if this is the way families take their holidays in other countries?

As much as I love my home and wouldn’t want to part with my creature comforts for any extended amount of time, I must admit to rather enjoying travelling with a caravan. In fact I have lived in a caravan twice during my younger years. Just last year I wrote about my experience of travelling and living in a caravan for four months at one stage in my early life in a post I called “A Sea Change – (AKA An Adventure with my Reckless Parents!)”

My clothesline features in a number of the photos I add here, so the next time you see my Hills Hoist, you will know that it is yet another Australian Icon.

clothesline 2

“There’s a small boat made of china,
Going nowhere on the mantlepiece.
Do I lie like a loungeroom lizard,
Or do I sing like a bird released?

Everywhere you go you always take the weather with you,
Everywhere you go you always take the weather….” ~ Weather With You.