friends · music

Memories of My First Love

The power of the human mind fascinates me.

In many of my writings here, I find myself contemplating our abilities as human beings to shape our lives, moulding them to become what we would like them to be, by utilising the energies of an unseen being, a being with which we have total control over ~ our own minds.

However, our minds can be fickle little creatures, wandering off to parts unknown, if we let our guard down.

And most times our thoughts wander off into familiar territory. Our memories.

Some time ago I started another blog, one in which I would have a place to record my memories; a place where I could vent my thoughts and unmuddle my brain.

Once written, those thoughts and memories take their rightful place, in the back of my mind, leaving a void in which new memories can enter.

It’s almost like a therapy session!

The perfect conditions must prevail for me to write down my significant memories most of the time. Sometimes, a memory will rattle and clank around in my mind for many years, before I can finally put the ghosts to rest, in words.

The planets aligned perfectly for me just recently. Memories began a lifetime ago reached their conclusion for me.

I have no explanation for my feelings; they just are what they are.

Here is my most recently dismissed ghost, buried within the words of my mind, at “Memoirs of my Life”.

cakes · chocolate · music · nostalgia

The Icing on MacArthur Park (and My Christmas Cake!)

On Christmas Eve I iced my Christmas cake, as I am known to do every year, during one of the preceding days leading up to the big day itself.

As a general rule, the icing stays put. But not this Christmas!

The moisture in the air, due to the massive amounts of rain we have been experiencing over the last few weeks, had my chocolate icing venturing to places on my cake where chocolate icing was not intended to be!

(The humidity level has regularly hovered around 80 – 90 % for some time now.)

Immediately, I had music in my head…

“MacArthur’s Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down…
Someone left the cake out in the rain…”


Yes, I know, my icing was sweet brown icing and no, I did not leave it out in the rain! Although it looks for all the world as if I did!

Do you remember the song, “MacArthur Park”? It was written by Jimmy Webb and recorded by actor, Richard Harris in 1968. The song became an instant one hit wonder for Harris, the actor.

I remember the song well, from listening to my mother constantly singing it around the house, whilst going about her housework! She was totally besotted by the song!

As to the actual recording of the song, even as a child I found Richard Harris’s voice haunting. Still do, for that matter.

Not that I had a clue as to what the lyrics were going on about!

It got the better of me. I had to take myself off to YouTube and find the song. Just to hear that voice again. And the orchestra. And to feel the sensation of goose bumps….

Yep, I’m my mother’s daughter. I’m besotted by that song!

I came across a few trivial facts to share with you also, just in case you’re interested in Richard Harris, or his gorgeous voice, or his acting, or that song…

Richard St. John Harris was born in Limerick, Ireland, in 1930.

His movie career began in 1958 and included roles in such memorable movies as “The Guns of Navarone”, “Mutiny on the Bounty” and “Camelot”.

In 2002, Harris played his final movie role in “Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets”, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, Harris passed away just two and a half weeks before the release of the movie.

As to my not understanding the lyrics of “MacArthur Park”, apparently they are meant to symbolise the ending of a love affair!

You can watch and listen to a YouTube video here ~

to hear snippets of the song, as sung by Richard Harris, along with interjections of anecdotes about the song and Harris himself.

For an uninterrupted (shortened) version of the song, go here ~

This second link is “A Tribute to Richard Harris”. Whilst he is singing the song, various photos are flashed across the screen, of Harris as he appeared in some of his movies roles. At the end of the video, an Irish Blessing appears, reading,

“May you always find blue skies above your head,

Shamrocks beneath your feet, laughter and joy aplenty,

Kindness from all you meet,

Good friends and kin to miss you if ever you choose to roam,

And a path that’s been cleared by angels themselves

To carry you safely home”.

Isn’t that a lovely blessing?

And so ends my “Richard Harris / MacArthur Park walk down memory lane and trivia quest”.

The humidity has dropped today to around 60 %, the rain is gone and the sun is shining, but I’ll be waiting a while before I add any icing to any cakes I bake!

floods · Mum · Tweed Valley

My Country

There’s been an awful lot of rain in my part of the world lately; rain, along with cooler temperatures.

Some areas of Queensland have flooded, while others are on flood alert.

The roads in northern New South Wales, where I live, are full of pot-holes. Apparently, the Tweed has been listed as a disaster area.

The rain is predicted to continue. Already it has been gauged that Australia has just had the wettest spring on record. Many of the dams throughout the country are full to overflowing.

An Australian politician has even declared, “This is a disaster of biblical proportions”.

Is there any good news?

Okay world, that all sounds like bad news. So how about some good news? Isn’t this a blog about “Everyday Inspirations”?

Yes, we’ve had a lot of rain, mostly in the sub-tropics (where I live) and further north in the tropics.

It’s summer, the cyclone season, the wet weather season. This is typical summer’s weather for these parts.

What isn’t typical is the cooler temperatures. Do you hear me complaining? Not a chance! We get enough heat in summer, on a regular basis. These cooler days are pure luxury!

The dams are overflowing. For many years, up until just recently, most areas that I know of, on the eastern side of Australia at least, have experienced water restrictions, due to drought. Livestock and plants have gone to God, due to lack of water.

We should be dancing and rejoicing in the rain!

The rain has prevented the usual outbreak of raging fires throughout the country. Hallelujah!

Has it always been this way?

During my lifetime I have lived through both fires and floods. My family was evacuated from our home when I was ten years old. We lived in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, an area prone to fires.

From nature’s point of view, fire is necessary to rejuvenate the bush!

From a human point of view, fire is destructive. It takes lives. It burns down houses. My Godmother and a close friend’s home were both destroyed in the aforementioned fires, but they survived. So I’m thankful.

When choosing an area to live in, isn’t it wise to find out if flooding is likely to occur? Or if the area is prone to bushfires? Or if venomous snakes have been sighted in your area? Or if the local aeroplane flight path goes over your home? Or if the during the burning of the sugar cane, ash is likely to litter your back yard?

That’s Australia.

Australia is Australia. It’s a harsh country. And that is the way it’s always been.

One of the most famous Australian poems is “My Country”, written by Australian born Dorothea Mackellar in the early 1900’s.

A rather lengthy poem, containing six verses, Dorothea began writing the poem in 1904, during a bout of home sickness. She was travelling through England and Europe and missing her homeland.

The poem was first published in the “London Spectator” in 1908, by its original title, “Core of my Heart”. It was republished in Australia at a later date and has been a favourite with Australian’s ever since.

The first verse of the poem refers to England. This is the second, and most famous verse of “My Country”.

“I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains

Of ragged mountain ranges

Of droughts and flooding rains.

I love her far horizons

I love her jewel sea,

Her beauty, and her terror ~

The wide brown land for me!”

~ Dorothea MacKellar (1885-1968)

If you would like to read the full version of “My Country”, it can be found on the Official Dorothea Mackellar Website.

Wikipedia also has further background history to the poem, along with information on Dorothea Mackellar herself here.

A Diverse Climate.

Australia has always had, and no doubt always will have, a very diverse climate. When you call Australia home, you learn to live with it, you get used to it, and yes, you love it!

P.S. The photo credit for today goes to my Mum. Yes, that’s a fifteen year old “me”, as my family prepared to batten down the hatches at the store we owned, in Murwillumbah, Northern N.S.W.

I was heading to our neighbouring business, (either to ask for or offer help, I don’t remember which). The river, only approximately 50 metres away was predicted to break its banks at any time.

My mother’s contribution during this time of crisis? Taking photos for posterity, of course! (I wish she were still here today to thank her!) 🙂

inspiration

Whatever Became of “Dear Diary”

“Journaling helps you grow and flow. It helps you get in touch with who you really are…your essence. It helps put you in touch with the Dreamer in you. It nourishes your Dreamer. Journaling provides clarity, discovery, and authentic expression”. ~ Susan Castle

Did you ever own a diary at any stage during your life?

You know what I mean, the type of diary in the form of a book, with blank pages. You needed a pen to write in it. Some even came complete with their own little padlock and key, enabling the owner of such a diary to record their deepest, most private thoughts and feelings, without fearing that their inner-self may be intruded upon.

Young girls, in particular, found great delight in beginning each new entry into their diaries with the words “Dear Diary”, just as one would begin a letter to a dear and close friend.

But that is exactly what a personal diary became to those who owned one; a confidant, in whom they could trust their inner most secrets to.

Where is Dear Diary Today?….

You may well ask!

I have a sneaking suspicion that “Dear Diary” is alive and well, after undergoing a gradual “facelift” during the last ten to fifteen years.

As the years have progressed, the times have changed to such an extent that Generation X and even more so Generation Y no longer feel the immense need to keep their inner-most thoughts private.

Modern technology has given them “Facebook”, the perfect medium in which to  record their deepest secrets if they so wish. Photos and music can also be contained within these pages, to be treasured for posterity.

A padlock and key seems unnecessary as you can easily monitor the friends you wish to have read your private thoughts.

Yes, times have certainly changed. Gone are the days when we all wished to keep our privacy. Our diaries may now be publicly viewed within the pages of Facebook.

Is There an Alternative to Facebook?

Yes, I believe there is!

And, you are reading my very own alternative to Dear Diary and Facebook, right here and now!

You see, I love to write and my words are from the heart. I’m past the age of wishing to record any risqué thoughts, preferring uplifting messages of inspiration, encouragement and advancement of thought.

So, I blog! 🙂

“The diary is the only form of writing that encourages total freedom of expression. Because of its very private nature, it has remained immune to any formal rules of content, structure, or style. As a result, the diary can come closest to reproducing how consciousness evolves”. ~ Tristine Rainer

There are many occasions when writing helps to put my thoughts into perspective. My mind may be going through a state of muddlement on a particular subject, so I begin to write.

As the words take form, my thoughts clear, the answers to my questions take form in my mind, I record the answers and voila! My mind is all sorted!

There once was a day, way back when…

…I owned my very own diary, as previously described, complete with cute little padlock and key. Dear Diary had become my confidant during the years I was aged thirteen and fourteen.

During a very boring lesson of Asian Social Studies at school one day, as I struggled to stay awake and pay attention to the teacher, (trying to improve my grades in this subject as they were not good, due no doubt to the afore mentioned boredom), I was distracted by a mini commotion in the seats behind me.

Two of my friends had discovered an amusing distraction from the drone of the teacher’s voice, there was no doubt about that! What was that little blue “thing” they both poked and giggled at, hidden mostly behind the desk, within the security of their laps?

I’d recognise that shade of blue anywhere….My Diary!

In a fit of rage, I snatched my valued possession from their hands, whilst the teacher, who was obviously sleep-talking, as he hadn’t noticed the commotion taking place right under his nose, continued to drone on.

The minutes that remained in that lesson of Asian Social Studies were the longest minutes of my fourteen year old life. As the bell rang, sounding the end of the lesson, my diary and I made a very speedy exit from the classroom.

I was mortified!

Needless to say, the two offenders, known formally as my “friends”, had taught me a very valuable lesson ~ that to some people nothing is sacred, therefore, tear up my diary and keep those overly private thoughts to myself!

“Writing is the most powerful way I know of to sort through all the inner voices”. ~ Rebecca Maddox

As quaint and lovely the idea of hand writing in diaries is, I am content today, as the much older and wiser soul I now am, to sort systematically through those “inner voices”, recording my thoughts in my blog and hoping someone out there may benefit from my words, not to mention my bad experience! 😉

gardening · happiness · inspiration · nostalgia · spring

Daffodils

Daffodils ~ William Wordsworth

“I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.”

(Photo credit : aspenlandscapedesigner.blogspot.com)