Cutting the Apron Strings

I haven't experienced the separation anxiety that I thought I might now that my lovely girl no longer lives at home. In 2008 she travelled the world and for a while there, I was a total mess. She'd lived at home all her life. We are incredibly close and the thought of her traipsing through the Amazon was horrifying. If it hadn't been for internet cafe's, Skype and Facebook, I'd have completely lost the plot. Old as she was, I just wasn't ready to sever the apron strings and the relief of having her back in the country was overwhelming.


However, when she announced a readiness to make her own way in November 2010, it was just right. I guess after having a month in each other's company and no arguments other than me complaining in Paris one day after walking for hours in search of a Lonely Planet Guide recommended tea house, we got on like a house on fire. She'd matured, wanted to cut her own path in the world, as she should and more importantly, I was ready to let go.


She'd made the decision and I was fine with it. Found a flatmate, someone she barely knew for a 'fresh' start and settled into a lovely flat overlooking the harbour. Well it would be a lovely view if there wasn't a huge Jacaranda obscuring the view it but she'd prefer the possums and Rainbow Lorikeets. I guess come winter she'll have a nice view of the North pylon of the Harbour Bridge. She was fortunate that her flatmate had most mod cons and all she needed was her enormous TV and her bed and frankly, I've never seen her happier.


Surprisingly she does know how to operate a washing machine, keeps a clean and tidy house, has developed a penchant for nice bed linen and even ventures into the culinary world by actually cooking once in a while (helped in no small way with a little 'beginners' cookbook that I made for her on Blurb). Ha! I guess that makes me a published author.  Although I am looking forward to spilling coffee on her carpet and leaving dirty dishes in the sink. Oh wait, I managed to fall over drunk and split my eyebrow and have never properly met her flatmate.


We talk daily via phone or email. She's home at least once a week and only 20 minutes away so very accessible and of course, I still have my lovely Adam and Amy at home so not quite an empty nester yet. Although it will be mighty quiet once he's left the roost.


I guess it's all in the timing.

Apero on the Balcony

Shady retreat

Kitchen (Not sure what "Wally's" sorry for but there's an apology on the blackboard

Living Room - Compact but comfy. And yes, that is a cleaning product on the makeshift coffee table. Who'da thunk it?

Yes somewhere behind that tree is the Harbour Bridge, so close you could spit on it

 So, I am left with . . .

My beautifull daughter-in-law to be

Arguably he funniest man in the world during a serious moment

Lounge Lizard

I don't think you realise that when I talk about 'lounge lizards' I'm not referring to some lazy bod sprawling out on the couch of soporific splendour. Yes I do have such a couch guaranteed to take you to the land of Nod. 

No, I'm talking about reptile visitors who are often seen perched atop one of my couches, sunning themselves and feeling right at home. These however tend to be small Eastern Skinks (about 15-20cm long) that live in the damp course around the house and they're very handy for eating fallen corpses around skirting boards. Which I appreciate because it means I don't have to deploy the Dyson crevice tool.


I'm a chronic bring-the-outdoors-in person and have every damn window and door open in the fine weather.) I'm pretty accustomed to the odd magpie flapping stupidly in the corner. I had a bat in the shower once. Yesterday however, I had a rather larger visitor who decided to wander in through the open French doors. A particularly handsome Blue Tongued Lizard.

Don't you dare go behind that cabinet!

Or turn around and go under the filing cabinets!

Such a disobedient reptile, nobody ever listens to me

Ah turning tail and heading outside

Ah a little sun before departure

Finally out on the patio and being ushered into the bushes. The leaf is about 5cm long.

Happy Birthday Skyman

I don't think I've ever done this before. Singled out one blogger over another because so many of you are dear to me, email me outside the blog, talk to me on Skype and, some of us have met; each experience has been lovely.  Some have even kept in touch after they've deserted the blogworld.  There is one in particular who's company has been beyond delightful.

In June 2009, I started commenting on a blog, Irreverant Irrelevance. It's author, was in the habit of responding to his commenters individually, something I've emulated if you leave an email link with your comments. A few emails went back and forth between us (and other commenters of course) as posts were read and comments left. By December I received a chat notification in Gmail from someone who's name I didn't recognise. He soon clarified who he was and so began the odd IM conversation. The man can talk the leg off a chair and I can talk underwater so conversation comes easily. By January we were regularly communicating then in March, he loaded up Skype and chats turned into voice. He moved slowly from the East Coast to the West and we introduced webcams. It was pretty cool putting the face to the voice. Our chats tend to be long, interesting, informative, funny, collaborative, sober, drunken, serious, stupid, playful. And I cherish each one.

For almost a year now, this has been going on. Unless of course I light a cigarette in which case I am summarily 'terminated' from the call or heavily berated to put it out while he chain chews Nicorette. Our contact has been interrupted only by bouts out-of-city work, vacations, intermittent connections or the odd weekend away. It's  a lovely liaison and I am proud to call him my friend.  Not only is he my closest male friend and a fantastic online companion but he's led me to places I never thought I would venture this past 12 months.

He's solely responsible for me starting Creative Infanticide and encouraging me to write. I've been a copywriter in a past life but never ventured into fiction or indeed way out of my comfort zone as I have this year. Together we decided upon The Infanticide Exchange a private collaborative blog, where aspiring writers can receive some constructive criticism from published writers, editors, readers and their peers. Feel free to contact me if you're interested in honest critical appraisal. 

He generously reviews and critiques my work, and the work of others, before we post or refine for other media.  He's a fine writer in his own right but denies it and I recommend you read some of his posts on Irreverant Irrelevance, they're wonderful.  

He's been a joy to co-write with on a rather long piece that we did for The Tenth Daughter of Memory. A project I loved doing as much as he did and one I hope will take us somewhere over the next 12 months. Again, we encourage would-be writers to join 10thDom. It's competitive, creative, generates wonderful quality, much fun and a great bunch of contributors take part. As I've said before, it's not for the feint hearted, wannabes or those with fragile egos. It's certainly not there to garner sycophantic comments. The beauty of it, is that it's a small field of quality writers, who contribute and vote on each others efforts. I am humbled each time I post by the excellence of their work.

He's opinionated, impetuous, interesting, well-travelled, moody, arrogant, damaged, talented, creative, honest, hedonistic, detailed, loyal, intelligent, stubborn, articulate, funny, encouraging, protective and infuriating but always multi-talented and most importantly, there for me when I need him and tolerates my neurosis with the patience of a Saint.

He's OCD with cleanliness (trust me watching him vacuum is porn for women), loves his pets more than people and is single-handedly trying to monopolise the noodle market.  His grammar is impeccable, his general knowledge amazing. I learn something from him every day.

2011 is going to be his year, I know it. The career will take off. More works will be published. He'll find his muse. His travel aspirations will begin.  Most exciting of all, I get to meet him in April, hug him until he's blue, cook for him, travel with him and spoil him rotten. He has indeed become a valued friend and part of the family.

Why so blue?

Oh and of course, teach him how to talk 'strine and introduce him to green vegetables as a food group, a concept that has so far escaped him. 

We've kept each other company on high days and holidays, Christmas Day and New Year's Eve. He talked to me for hours on my birthday because I was home alone and in need of a friend. He consoles me when I'm sad, castigates me when I'm irritating. He won't thank me for this post, or for wishing him happy birthday, these events have little resonance for him but I love him to bits and wish him wonderful things this year and always.

I believe during one of our conversations (sadly when I was sober) I made a promise to jump out of a plane (expert and parachute attached). We shall see. This song may be my anthem and hopefully not my requiem.

Thanks matey for just being 'right here'. You and me, we're just fine. One million invisible lines, up your head and into mine . . . we're just fine. You're the light in my Parka and you're jumping with me!
Hmm . . hardly a stretch for an ex-Paratrooper.

Resolutions Revealed

I'm not a great one for resolutions and seem to set the same three each year:

• Sell my property
• Lose Weight
• Get Laid

None have come to fruition  in the recent past but I live in hope. Although this year, I feel a brightness. There's something special about 2011, a new positive energy if that's what it can be called. Oh yes, I still want the three above but have decided that none are going to fall in my lap.  The house is for sale and I'm actively pushing it to anyone who shows any interest but much of that is in the lap of the gods. However, if it hasn't gone by September, it's being auctioned or the price dropped. I want 2011 to be my last Christmas here. Not because I don't love the place but because it's simply time to move on.

Losing weight is happening and I've moved about 7 kilos in 7 weeks.  I need to lose another 18 over the next 12 weeks which is quite a task. Slow and steady but I'm walking every day and was even cajoled into buying some dumbells and use them three times a week to reduce the canteen lady arms. So by April 1st, I hope to win, or come close to winning my bet with The Benchwarmer and taking a nice crisp $100 bill from his wallet.

Getting laid? This is a problem. I'm no spring chicken. I'm incredibly fussy about the men that appeal to me. I'm a social recluse and frankly, I've not been asked for a long time so, we'll see.  Hard to find an attractive man who can look past the sagging boobs and cellulite thighs and the recent Harry Potter scar across my eyebrow doesn't help. Maybe I'll start dating, maybe I won't but if it happens, I'll be forever grateful to whoever breaks the drought, although  I think I've forgotten how to do it and no man will 'see' me totally naked. Ever.

I'm adding a few as well. Resolutions that I can or should be able to control.

Reduce the neuroticism
I can be a worrier and think of the worst. As my friend in the US constantly reminds me 'Stop thinking the worst all the time - it's all good'. The fact that he frequently 'makes' me think the worst often escape me but I think I'm improving.  I worry when my kids travel, I worry every time Adam gets on that bloody bike. I worry about bills and cleanliness and job security and . . . well I should stop. I do overreact but I'm working on it. Really I am.

Have Patience
I do get frustrated when things don't happen, or happen now. It makes me tetchy and adds to the worrying so this year, there will be a few deep breaths, more exercise, more tolerance, more 'relaxing' about things. I even bought a hypnotherapy tape and at the end of it I still can't work out if he counts down to 10 or just says "TEN" it's very relaxing.

Be a better financial manager
2011 is  my year of consolidation. I've set a goal to travel in 2012. For a short time, if I've not sold the house. For a prolonged period if I have. Before that, I need to get my credit debt under control, pay my loans, live frugally and manage to save. I'm very motivated for this one. I want to sit in KJ's hot tub on a snowy night, visit Provincetown and New York, see the Grand Canyon,  watch Cirque du Soliel and gamble in Las Vegas, touch a Redwood, have 50 million checkout chicks say "Have a nice day", have a bear break into my car, buy a cowboy hat, go to a Navajo reservation, drive the I-whateveritis in a red truck with three dogs, two cats and a mad ex-paratrooper with OCD and pick up a shy but equally mad writer and illustrator (if his wife will let me). Yep 2012, US here I come.

Be a better friend
I really do need to get out more and have neglected friends over the past year. I need to arrange get-togethers, make others include me because I think many are sick of issuing invitations or think that I'm comfortable in solitude. Indeed, I have become so but it's not good for me to be on my own. I'm a social animal and need company.

Be a better blogger
I've been pretty crap this year. I'm not talking about the quantity, I simply don't have time to blog every day like I used to but the quality of the posts I've put up in 2010 apart from those on Creative Infanticide or perhaps Paris, have been pretty ordinary. I promise to do better with content, subject matter and wit.

So 2011 is looking up for me. And I hope for you. I know so many people for whom 2010 has been a pretty shitty year.  I have three overseas visitors heading this way next year and I couldn't be more thrilled. Work finally is challenging and satisfying and I have a wonderful employer. The kids are settled. One away from home, the other planning a wedding. My nephew gets married here in March and one of my sweetest nieces has become engaged. Of course, my own son is getting married in July. There seems little to worry about if you're in the right frame of mind. Well as long as you don't count that strange bumping sound in my car or look at my credit card statement.

Have a wonderful New Year. Take it easy if you celebrate NYE.  I don't as a rule but did spend the evening with someone I care for, ate a dozen oysters, far too many king prawns and a blue swimmer crab, skinny dipped all on my own in a pool so warm it could be a spa and snuggled my dog who was terrified by neighbourhood fireworks. Well that's her excuse. 

Here's to 2011, good health, happiness and friendship . . may they all be yours.

Gotta love the coathanger when she explodes . . NY? All you have is a big Swarovski ball?

Happy New Year, Happy All Year . . .

Silly Santas

Rear left to right: Safari Santa, Daft Punk Santa, Barbecue Santa. Front left to right: Sporty Santa, Bad Santa, Security Santa and Rockabilly Santa

It's a lot of hoo-har for a single day but the sun shone. Half our family was absent but that didn't stop the Bainos and Babysis from dressing up and behaving badly.  It always seems a little strange celebrating Christmas on a 27 degree day with blazing sunshine. We're not very traditional down here with food being tasty nibbly bits through the day, then a glazed ham and sweet, fragrant pear salad, potato bake and followed by a forest berry trifle. All washed down with copious amounts of Champagne and finished with a few Baileys on ice. Lubly. Of course, upon my return home, the rain's set in and my internet is behaving badly again. Hope yours was happy and safe.

Sporty Santa Struts her Stuff

Daft Punk Santa and Sexy Santa get their Robot Rock on

 

Safari Santa and Security Santa

 

Bad Santa lights up

 . . and drinks up

Mini mignon nibbles

Yum

Sexy Santa scores with BBQ Sauce . . she's addicted

Babysis does Kris Kringle

Me whingeing because I didn't do well at Christmas Trivia

Trying to be taller than Sexy Santa

Security Santa needed a little help

Nah that's not dinner

Bainos

Taylors

Yep there's always someone who has to turn his shorts into a bra. I guess it's marginally better than wearing them on your head!

Spoke too soon!

Merry Christmas One and All

Our annual pilgrimage to visit those who like to add a little Eiffel to their towers was not disappointing although all of us seem a little flat this Christmas. I'm sure we'll buck up come 1pm on Friday when everyone finishes work and heads home for the festivities. The GFC seems to have cut the budget a little this year as the houses we usually frequent weren't quite on their top form but it was nice to have a sparkly evening and begin to feel a little of the spirit of Christmas.  One thing I do know, is that it's only just over a week before we're in a brand new year, full of brand new and exciting possibilities.


To those of you who've not had such a good time this year, look forward to the next. I know there are some of you who are having difficulties this holiday season with family illness or the sadness of remembering those who are no longer with you. I know some who just plain aren't celebrating at all because they simply don't feel like it. Equally, I know those who are going all out to deck the halls and warm the hearth. To Gledwood who's been clean for 18 days, keep up the good work. To Mim who has a MIL in dire straits, I'm thinking of you. To the sweetest man on earth, get on a plane, there's still time.


Wrap up in the north, take heart that it's not that hot down here at the moment. We even had snow last week! Well in the Snowy Mountains but still unseasonal for us. The forecast for Christmas Day is warm and wet, fine if you're with a lover but not so nice when you're carving the turkey.

Me? I'm off to Babysis' with the brood of wacky Santas, then a day with the progeny on Boxing Day to recover and grab a little rest and relaxation by the harbour, weather permitting.


Be good to yourselves, have a wonderful break and I'll see you after the madness.

Sparkles are good in any climate

Outlining your roof is very 2010

LED flavour of the month

Bed time stories from Santa and yes, he's outside

Probably going a little too far

I want one

Even trees get presents

Tastefully gaudy, is that possible?

Aussie Christmas. Everyone knows Santa has six white boomers

However you celebrate it, I hope it's good

Friday Santawit

I must admit that I'm not feeling Christmassy. It's a worry because generally I love Christmas but I guess this year, a fragmented family filling distant obligations, a bah humbug friend being totally weird and the pressures of work . . .just not jingling my bells. Perhaps I should be living in China:

BEIJING (AFP) – Dozens of mainly foreign residents of Beijing dressed up as Santa Claus as part of a worldwide weekend costume parade got a lump of coal in their Christmas stockings -- ejection from
The group was taking part in Saturday's SantaCon -- a worldwide event that sees people don Santa's familiar red suit and white-brimmed hat and make merry in cities around the world including the Chinese capital, two revellers said.

About four hours into the day-long event, which in Beijing takes the form of a pub crawl, dozens of revellers entered Tiananmen Square -- the scene of mass pro-democracy protests in 1989 that ended in a bloody army crackdown.

As they gathered for a photo, police intervened, the participants said.
"You are causing a social disturbance -- leave the square now," one partygoer, who asked not to be identified, quoted a police officer as saying to the group. "If you want to visit Tiananmen, come in the appropriate way." (yeh with a shopping back and standing in front of a tank)


Another participant told AFP: "Everyone just dispersed really quickly in an effort not to get into trouble. The cops did follow us out, but the party moved on and there were no problems."
One disgruntled Santa claimed,  "China stole my Christmas," but the first participant interviewed by AFP said he thought the incident had given the event some bite.

"I think people sort of liked getting kicked out of Tiananmen Square. I think it added a bit of edginess to what otherwise would just have been a pub crawl," he said.

Oh c'mon China, it's Christmas, get into the spirit (perhaps I will too).  Okay maybe a dose of "The Santa Claus" will do it for me.

Montmartre

I really want to post but I'm uninspired. Unlike some who schedule months ahead, I'm an ad hoc blogger so I'm afraid, it's more Paris. I am thinking of starting a Paris Diary if I have time over the Christmas break because I kept a notebook (thanks KJ) and diarised each day so who knows. I'm still sorting through pics so for now, please enjoy Montmarte.
Known more popularly for the burlesque Moulin Rouge which boasts six Australians among it's cast. The suburb surrounding the Metro, St Vincent,  is seedy and rank. We did have breakfast in the cafe where Amelie was filmed and I'm sure I took a few photographs but they haven't materialised.


The hillside of Montmartre is actually old, artistic, and quite beautiful. Atop the highest hill in very flat Paris is an Artisan's Market, touristy but quite beautiful and you are accosted on a regular basis by would-be artists of some talent offering to paint your portrait.


Because we're Lonely Planet Guide lovers, we took the Montmartre walking tour to find the Man in the Wall and went, well backwards but it was a lovely way to explore the lesser tourist trail.  The sun shone, the walking was quite hard being hilly, the Gelato delicious and the experience unforgettable.


On a clear day the view from Sacré-Cœur is stunning if you can avoid the crowds and hawkers and sadly, there was a Mass being read at the time and whilst I'm a devout atheist, I respect the right of others to worship so we had a peek inside but no photographs:

The Cafe where Amalie was shot. Love that Movie

Clos Montmartre, Paris' only surviving, working vineyard

Montmarte's Artist's Community with Sacre Coeur in the background

Even the graffiti is gorgeous

Outside a Toy Shop that almost made me want to be a Nana

Just a side street cafe

Legacy of old, Windmills

We LOVE Lonely Planet

Loads of these guys, no idea what they are

Ahh this is who we were looking for, the man in the wall