The Anniversary
(”Mother and Daughter” by Willow Tree figurines)
Today marks the first anniversary of Mum’s passing.
I’m not wallowing in a pool of pity (*smile*) but I did find myself a bit quiet and reflective so far today. In a couple of hours, hubs and I are taking a drive a few suburbs over to the beach, and I’m going to take a moment to scatter her ashes in the water. We used to live in this beachside suburb and the last time Mum came down for a visit we all (kids, spouses, grandkids etc) spent lots of time at this particular stretch of sand. It was the last time we visited together - Mum had been living with my sister across the country and money was just too tight (on both our parts) to travel more than once every year or two.
I’m not one to solemnly walk out to the water dressed in black, crying, and giving a speech. That’s just not me. I certainly didn’t want to make a big deal about scattering her ashes. The urn is quite tiny (each of us four kids took a portion home with us after the funeral). I sort of consider it a private thing and so it will just be me out there. Hubs will hang back at my request. The children don’t know that Nana was cremated and certainly don’t know that we’ve had her ashes in our walk-in closet for the last year. They’re all at school today.
And because I don’t want to have the entire day be negative, afterwards hubs is taking me out for lunch :)
Later this evening I’ll ring my siblings. It has been quite a long time since I spoke to my brothers and we’re all drifting further and further apart. I think this happens often with families - nothing really happens, you just wake up one morning and realise that you’re not exchanging as many phone calls or emails as you used to. I think its about time we all make more of an effort in that regard. There’s also a little ’stagnant water’ hanging around under that bridge of ours too (LOL) which needs addressing. But not today.
Today I may even drag out Sense & Sensibility and Pride & Prejudice (VHS) and slip into some old memories. My copy of P&P (the BBC version) was a present I gave to Mum for Mother’s Day one year when I was a teenager. And the two of us saw S&S at a matinee movie screening not terribly long after :)
If your mother is still with you, give her a call today :)
Cheers,
Lizzie
Diet? What Diet? (Week 3 Roundup)
I hope everyone had a much better week than I did. I didn’t lose (or gain!) so much as a single gram. But you know what I’m figuring out as I go along? I still count my progress so far as a success.
I’m still walking, something I never thought I’d manage for this long. Still averaging a bit over 4 km (2.5 miles) per day. I’m so stoked about keeping that up, I can’t even begin to tell you. Even though my diet is - ahem - not all that great at the moment, I feel okay about all that. I’ve come to undersand that with all the mayhem in my life at the moment, just taking one step at a time is still fantastic. I haven’t yet updated Lizzie’s Great Big Walk total for this week (will do so later tonight) but I have walked another 20-25 km (12.5-15.5 miles) . I have had to take the last two days off though - day out shopping yesterday and then rain today - but I’m averaging 6 days a week at 4+ kms (2.5 miles) a pop, and that’s nothing to sneeze at :)
I have so much on my plate at the moment that I’m struggling to find time to overhaul the menu. As a result, I’m not being particularly virtuous on that score! And I don’t see that changing in the next few weeks either. I know I shouldn’t be doing it, but I can forsee a lot of chocolate and other study snacks in my future, LOL. The next four or five weeks around here are going to be insanely busy. Many, many assignments due. So just keeping up my walking is about all I’m going to commit to just now. I have definitely noticed a difference in motivation as the three weeks have gone by. For the first week, and into the second, I had to make myself go out walking. The third week was a lot easier. I wanted to go out. And that, I think, is the main difference.
Cheers,
Lizzie
Our First Date Was At McDonald’s
(cartoon © Hugh MacLeod at www.gapingvoid.com)
The guy is, of course, gorgeous. I never thought I’d be into a guy with a full beard, but there you go.
As I was spooned up in bed with hubs last night, I got to thinking about the very first time we’d found ourselves arranged into the shape of a piece of cutlery. Just for the record, by the way, this story is very clean :P
A high school friend of mine had recently become engaged and the bloke to whom she was betrothed happened to have an out-of-town brother coming down for a visit one weekend. The usual suggestion of a double-date came up and before I knew it, couple + 1 had arrived at my door to pick me up. As I slid into the car, I glanced up, trying to forget about all the usual references to ‘wing men’ and ‘making up the numbers’. I had been expecting the usual scenario of no-spark politeness, but whoa, was I ever wrong. The stakes were suddenly much, much higher. You know when you know you’re absolutely the fourth wheel in an arrangement but for the most part you’re okay with that because it might be a fun night out anyway? So you go along with zero expectations and still come home feeling like a good time was had by all? That was the set up to this particular evening. And then suddenly it mattered what he thought of me. I silently cursed my hair, my clothes, and the fact that my jeans had a pin-prick hole in the knee. Which he never did see.
The Couple and I had lived in this particular small town for years and the most exciting thing to have happened in the previous year was the opening of the new McDonald’s (I briefly worked there as a fifteen year old but - ahem - we’ll gloss over that particular gem…) So, naturally, that’s where we went to eat. I remember being specifically thankful that we were not seated opposite one another because, well, have you ever tried to eat a Big Mac delicately? There’s just no way.
We ‘did laps’ of the main street for a while (ahhh, the heady days of youth!) and headed back to my friend’s house, an impromptu decision made on my part to stay overnight. That whole night, I was a fumbling idiot. Everything I did was mortifyingly embarrassing (I was not to find out until years later that those sentiments were mirrored exactly by the other party).
The four of us lived in each others’ pockets for the weekend. I don’t think I even made it home to my place until the Sunday night. But at some point new beau and I had to say goodbye and he had to head back off to the town he lived in at the time, several hours drive away.
I felt a bit lost for a few days, and then, in a fit of schoolgirl-itis, decided a letter was in order. So I sent him one, cringing with every word I wrote at the total cliched-ness of it all. But I still sent it. And he wrote back.
Over the next six months or so, there were many letters, but not that much face-to-face time. We were quite comfortable with each other in our notes, but the moment we got together (on a few visits dotted throughout that time) we were like twelve year olds holding hands again. Long story short (well, okay, shorter), leaps of faith were made (on both parts) and we eventually became an official ‘item’. Which was rather ridiculous really, as we’d both been professing our love for months via the mailbox. But anyway.
Another six months later saw me move out of home and in with him. Ten odd years down the track, and I still think I hit the mark with this one. I think I’ll keep him :)
People (obviously the ones who aren’t yet married!) are forever promoting marriage as this Hallmark-inspired swooning love-fest. What bollucks. Marriage is freakin’ hard work. But then you get his yang cuddled up with your ying (in a very clean way of course!) and you feel like there’s nothing on earth you can’t handle. There’s safety. And contentment. And the knowledge that you’ll forgive the toothpaste-encrusted sink and he’ll forgive the burnt chops.
Well, the first few times anyway…
So hats off to hubbies, I say. They may not be perfect, but hey, we’re not either.
Cheers,
Lizzie
Closety Goodness
No, I’m not talking about the clothes, but the organisation.
When we moved into this house two years ago we were thrilled to discover that the bedrooms all had built-in closets (with the main having a small walk-in). It was a huge selling point for a family who had previously stored all three children’s clothing in the one set of drawers.
But for the last two years I’ve had it all wrong. The built-ins have lots of hanging space and some open shelving as well as four drawers. I had been folding all of the kids’ clothing and putting them on the open shelves. The result was an untidy mess that very frequently needed tidying up. The configuration was all wrong.
Last weekend I had one of those lightbulb moments. One of those ‘OMG, how did I miss that?’ thoughts. I dragged out all the kids size hangers I could find. I went through the kids’ closets and completely cleaned them out - everything removed and set aside. I dusted and vacuumed inside. Then I took each item of clothing - the very clothes I continuously spend hours folding and re-tidying on those open shelves - and hung it up.
Wow. The difference is amazing. For starters, I can see exactly what items of clothing are on hand. No more untidy folded piles. And the open shelves are now free to house the various toys that usually reside somewhere on the floor to be tripped over.
I still need to stock up on some more hangers - I had a scant few - but boy, life just got a lot easier. I just take a basket of hangers with me to the laundry or directly out to the clothesline and hang there and then. And simply bring them in and pop them in the closets immediately. No more clothes waiting around in baskets until I get five minutes to do some folding. It’s like I just gained another couple of hours a week between not having to worry about the folding and the tidying up of the shelves after the kids have been in there searching for a favourite t-shirt.
I love it when organisation just, well, works. LOL.
Cheers,
Lizzie
Wonderful Graphics Site
Cheers,
Lizzie
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