tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45259582365119936152024-02-07T13:32:48.487+08:00Journey to ContentmentThis is the day to day journey of my dogged pursuit of contentment. Come with me as I explore everything from the mundane to the wonderful. We may get lost, but that's how discoveries are made.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-63749800098535069042017-11-28T13:57:00.001+08:002017-11-28T14:00:19.944+08:00Camping - Why and Where and What for?<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The camper has been pulled from its home, dusty and cobwebby, but robust enough to stand the neglect of the past 18 months. Red dust has been ingrained in the cover, the wheel arches, the welded seams. Evidence of holidays past, adventures and getaways. Off-road tyres have a slight flat patch, need some air to plump them up. But our home away from home just needs a hose down, some spit and love and she will be ready to take us to our next memory making <a href="https://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/and-off-we-go.html" target="_blank">camping trip</a>.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzrNnhgp8Q2ygGJaEoweoW2HW7_TgSXBE9wARUiC5jKeLvNYs5Nlqg_GYOBsi7qEDDX8A_Kmwnfweg1zhX0AJ5Iap2DPxplkePi4_SxYXfXUSmkx379kco002HZODEX6V3DN8dXT-AUQ/s1600/DSC_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzrNnhgp8Q2ygGJaEoweoW2HW7_TgSXBE9wARUiC5jKeLvNYs5Nlqg_GYOBsi7qEDDX8A_Kmwnfweg1zhX0AJ5Iap2DPxplkePi4_SxYXfXUSmkx379kco002HZODEX6V3DN8dXT-AUQ/s320/DSC_0016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We head off on Friday, so this week we will pack the Waeco fridge, fill the water tank, load the canoe on the roof-rack, and pack camping clothes and shoes. Important things to make a place for are bottles of gin, dark chocolate, pack of <a href="https://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2013/01/canasta-card-game-of-life.html" target="_blank">canasta</a>, my kindle plus a stack of books. The dog is going to be sadly let down when he finds out we are leaving him behind, he likes his camping too. But he won’t be sad for long, my Mum and Dad are coming to stay with him, so he will have five days of gardening and being outdoors and having treats and pats.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBacvvqGLoYNqaN3TvoseejFYmKkCweBJuSRhsFEKaS48y3QH9MF4YyEjJugEND3dPaeq-AzkZvZt4OhAX8zGOkBdBj5ZCpGC2V8Fs_F90QbmOB_OWZFfTLMlKAxby0B4Afs8djdZTijs/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBacvvqGLoYNqaN3TvoseejFYmKkCweBJuSRhsFEKaS48y3QH9MF4YyEjJugEND3dPaeq-AzkZvZt4OhAX8zGOkBdBj5ZCpGC2V8Fs_F90QbmOB_OWZFfTLMlKAxby0B4Afs8djdZTijs/s320/DSC_0008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The destination this trip is south of Perth, about two and a half hours leisurely drive. It will be hot on Friday, but as we head south and by the coast, it should cool. We will be the first of our group to arrive, so we will set-up our camp, put out the camp chairs, cool the drinks in ice and have a cheese platter ready for when the next campers arrive. Slow and slowed down we will all be. Tension and hyper activity will be leaching from us as ice cold drinks and canvas replace deadlines and offices.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A barbecue, laughs, talking long into the darkness. We will have all decompressed by the time our beds call our names. A cool night with gentle breezes, frogs loud, the moon enough light to see by. The morning will be early, rising with the sun, it will be chilly but warming quickly. The billy is filled, water heating on the gas stove. Coffee in hand, we find our chairs and discuss how we fared in the night, what is on the agenda for today. No one moves fast, a second and third cup of coffee. Breakfast of bacon and eggs, mushroom and tomatoes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As we wash the breakfast dishes in a plastic bowl, we will discuss where we will go for lunch. Or dinner. This camping trip we are close to wineries and restaurants, bars and cafes. Or shall we just hang about at camp, have tuna and tomato sandwiches and read and nap. Tomorrow another of our group will arrive. They have a new camper to show us, to demonstrate the little things that make camping easy and fun. Drinks will begin at noon. Those of us who arrived early and are settled will take front row seats watching the couple with the new camper work out the routine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Four nights and five days of living the nomad. But with luxury tents and campers and kitchens on tailgates. Laughter and lounging. Reading and reminiscing. All this will make more memories of the time we went away, to find ourselves, to find contentment. This is my idea of a holiday. Not a boarding pass in sight. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There is still the <a href="https://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/staff-camping-weekend.html" target="_blank">anxiety</a>, that peaks the night before the trip and slowly ebbs away the longer we are away. The farther we are away from home dilutes the anxiety too, which is bizarre when the norm for anxiety is to feel it when we are most out of our normal life.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-86424051512119491792017-11-23T07:14:00.000+08:002017-11-23T13:34:28.772+08:00I need to be back here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZKSjaoaFbMuL0CijC5P3o5opS76_Lt75viKRFXRedUz3O_n4k-usxDex7L_h5tzN1YHolD-LKbhwlwviEE51e2rQ5yKDoNMOJzLi1UtQQIwezX1sCkcMjjJyY_RLNa5jhkBtCHT-UEJ8/s1600/vision_board_+from+kikkiK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZKSjaoaFbMuL0CijC5P3o5opS76_Lt75viKRFXRedUz3O_n4k-usxDex7L_h5tzN1YHolD-LKbhwlwviEE51e2rQ5yKDoNMOJzLi1UtQQIwezX1sCkcMjjJyY_RLNa5jhkBtCHT-UEJ8/s320/vision_board_+from+kikkiK.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I visited my blog today. I read over posts that I wrote years ago. It was a private moment between us, and I miss it dearly. When I was writing here, I felt centred, even when the days went pear shaped, there was my blog to allow me to write out the day and make sense of it all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then I stopped writing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know why. Life and things it threw at me got too much, I did not value the therapeutic release, I forgot why I started this blog in the first place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But what I do know is ...</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I need to come back here on a regular basis</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is much to gain from writing and sharing our thoughts and feelings</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Without this space, I feel lost and adrift</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It grounds me when I write here</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is wonderful to be able to read back over past years posts and see how I have grown.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I miss the blogging community</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blogging made me a better writer, you need to practice your art.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is good for your mind to craft out a story of everyday life</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is a promise to myself. I will write one blog post a week. This is the least that I will do, if inspiration strikes, then I can always write more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I will write a plan for the new months blog posts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, that wasn't so hard was it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yours sincerely, </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvQYqjyD2Zo2VpHRWeOyjnlP6qhK5goZXvkAz7-jJ8jPSKlG17aTLOqN2kRHf4Bh60_lXCvw4dLq-1HHl0IWubuMyhC2A67-_5sUZ-Ne4z1pl_puwAJXrmS9DHBbIwExKspW_8AxVOZrU/s1600/ima040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvQYqjyD2Zo2VpHRWeOyjnlP6qhK5goZXvkAz7-jJ8jPSKlG17aTLOqN2kRHf4Bh60_lXCvw4dLq-1HHl0IWubuMyhC2A67-_5sUZ-Ne4z1pl_puwAJXrmS9DHBbIwExKspW_8AxVOZrU/s320/ima040.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">me xx</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-40678756782770976872015-07-15T08:24:00.001+08:002015-07-15T08:28:14.870+08:00Good v Bad Knees<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The world is an unfair place sometimes. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL4z4tQOs18vX6p_41o9Tc61sk3iS9zxczJgo6lJ1cGo3FK_y64tyq7cmb_834LKYql3U0bjNMwnAk6Gap3JVYS5QhDbbAxdSAo3THBelszWcTEzU3jSErp45z6VuO4HHhbJIbGzlnMO0/s1600/unfair+gp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL4z4tQOs18vX6p_41o9Tc61sk3iS9zxczJgo6lJ1cGo3FK_y64tyq7cmb_834LKYql3U0bjNMwnAk6Gap3JVYS5QhDbbAxdSAo3THBelszWcTEzU3jSErp45z6VuO4HHhbJIbGzlnMO0/s1600/unfair+gp.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It does not always follow that if you work hard you get rewarded, that if you are a good person then good things will happen to you, that eating well everyday will not save you from cancer, that being kind to animals will save you being eaten by a shark, smiling a lot will make you happy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is how I feel today, that the world sucks! Terrible way to start a blog post, sorry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You see, I have bad knees, really bad, I can barely walk some days and I need to lose weight, which I need good knees for. The reason I have bad knees, is that I needed to lose weight and I used my then good knees that are now bad knees.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhyphenhyphenfVCwoiCA5hoDahSU8hijzzvZQfB_ci6q9NqjOm48gtTt4KbGbIVWGXoNdib0qvbJ4h6BywwKjRHzXl4h3mnRdNhdk4O5Xma3t9nUKBusBCmD4MdhZbtjwUXh168eNalcChJn_ZFT4/s1600/shutterstock_92175247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhyphenhyphenfVCwoiCA5hoDahSU8hijzzvZQfB_ci6q9NqjOm48gtTt4KbGbIVWGXoNdib0qvbJ4h6BywwKjRHzXl4h3mnRdNhdk4O5Xma3t9nUKBusBCmD4MdhZbtjwUXh168eNalcChJn_ZFT4/s320/shutterstock_92175247.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">About 6 years ago, I started running and doing long distance walking. I did this because the one hour daily walk was not enough to make me lose weight. I had to up the ante. So I started doing two hour walks, then walking home from work (17kms). I then started meeting up with my best friend and would walk the ten km bridges walk two or three times a week. Then we started to run it. I was also running every second day, five kms plus the days in between walking. Power walking, not just a stroll. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was still fighting the weight, doing Jenny Craig and religiously going to see my counsellor every week for a weigh in. Great, thats half a kilo lost this week. 300 grams the next week. What!!? I put on 400 grams how can that be? Oh, yeah, I had a few G&T's. Week after week of this, in fact I did it for a whole year. Eating 1200 calories a day, week in, week out. Agonising over every calorie and feeling guilt for every indiscretion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To counter balance the indiscretions (and I am not talking about two pizzas and five meat pie blowouts, I am talking a few chips and a couple of drinks) I added in going to a gym for three times a week. Working one on one with a personal trainer for one full hour every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. For months and months and thousands and thousands of dollars.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgobQLJ0oQGcXMMaa09-MEAa4xeCaDFeumQ-P0MOqUFYtKHxHs3Ziyj3nL_dSNFJBco_sfbAXKzjb-s4KhqpDQCtr9lKkzMEXP0vL6hO9rR44rhkai0EQaDu6CbvaxX0OQNATIq660llDA/s1600/running-shoes-damaging-hips-knees-damage-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgobQLJ0oQGcXMMaa09-MEAa4xeCaDFeumQ-P0MOqUFYtKHxHs3Ziyj3nL_dSNFJBco_sfbAXKzjb-s4KhqpDQCtr9lKkzMEXP0vL6hO9rR44rhkai0EQaDu6CbvaxX0OQNATIq660llDA/s320/running-shoes-damaging-hips-knees-damage-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was fit. Very fit. I was toned and had great muscles, especially in my legs. Oh the squats I could do. On a bosu board, crunches and rowing and lifting weights. She was tough my trainer, if I rang to say I was skipping a session she would say thats ok, we can pick it up 5am tomorrow morning. I very rarely missed a session. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, you would think with all this hard exercise, and a 1200 calorie a day diet, I would have looked Kate-Moss-amazing? Sure my skin glowed, I looked really healthy, but, and here is the but that makes me weep, but, I was still a size 16 at best. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No matter how hard I worked at it, I was still going to be a big girl. And this breaks my heart, and I really did work very, very hard. I had to push myself sometimes way past the point of comfort. It was never something I looked forward to, it was something I had to do and quitting was not an option. It simply had to be done. The only thing I did get pleasure from was challenging myself to get better and go further, to run longer distances, and beat the day before record. I entered the city to surf fun run and completed the 12.5 kms. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And this was the time and place my knee started to play up. It was sore towards the end of the run but I was determined to finish. And I did. The pain was not too bad, but I eased off on so many runs a week, and cut down the walking to a few times a week. I still did a few walks from my office in the city to home, but I had to slow the pace. I continued at the gym and my trainer, worked with my knee, building strength in it and trying not to aggravate the situation. But it got worse and worse and my head started to pipe up about all this intense hard work I had been doing and really, what had it got me? Damaged knees and still a fat body.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxocTtR0SczRpt-3c4ehfnEGN78cwKostfHTIOviI-yrQ08fiqt4g1F9G0yu_yYdTv3dfVl9dKnywhpp0B_XhBahw_LZHlkIfVApswzFLNLz-N7QdUZrfhiccVx5yHMfL2Hygf_2uVI0/s1600/forefoot-running-saves-knees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxocTtR0SczRpt-3c4ehfnEGN78cwKostfHTIOviI-yrQ08fiqt4g1F9G0yu_yYdTv3dfVl9dKnywhpp0B_XhBahw_LZHlkIfVApswzFLNLz-N7QdUZrfhiccVx5yHMfL2Hygf_2uVI0/s320/forefoot-running-saves-knees.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How do you come back from that?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, everyday both my knees are aching and painful and stiff. I can't lay on my side as my knees grind and put pressure on each other, even with a thick pillow between them. So I lie on my back, and can't sleep. Well I can, and I do, but not well. I find myself a few hours later, rolled on my side with a knee so stiff and sore it almost makes me weep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I get up from sitting and my knees won't work properly. I hobble, like I am 100. I went out in the city the other night and had to walk a mere 300 metres, it killed me. Working in the garden is an exercise in pushing through the pain. I do it, but pay for it dearly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now I need new knees. An operation my Dr does not want to do until I am older. I will need to lose weight before the operation so that the recovery is better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How do I do this without good knees? If I could not lose weight on a diet and all that exercise, how on earth will I do it with bad knees? Guess I better start liking water and ... I was going to say bread, but that's a carb ... better just be drinking water.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's a consumer world and I want my money back, as the product did not do what it said it would do on the box.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">See, told you the world was unfair!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">PS: I know that there are so many others out there with problems 100 times worse than this. I know that having a pity party will not help. I just wanted to get this out of my mind so me and my knees can move forward.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">PPS: The bright side is that in the event of a world disaster, I will live the longest as I have a superior metabolism.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-24603156783983573762015-07-07T09:10:00.003+08:002015-07-07T09:10:55.840+08:00Hoarders ... my own reality TV show<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZE_sm1p48qP6o9wfNYssKbX71-v4kcvWYlVMvA-HX1Y1sS2uDrL73hbKyG4J0egy3XEiiTBlKHAEWylPbQUT090ZCjpUXLYJE1hwQ-Bp_HubdJ6fPW8SzTZPWY7F6djjgMpZpFo0bx8/s1600/slate_10.jpg.CROP.original-original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZE_sm1p48qP6o9wfNYssKbX71-v4kcvWYlVMvA-HX1Y1sS2uDrL73hbKyG4J0egy3XEiiTBlKHAEWylPbQUT090ZCjpUXLYJE1hwQ-Bp_HubdJ6fPW8SzTZPWY7F6djjgMpZpFo0bx8/s320/slate_10.jpg.CROP.original-original.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In my mind, this is how my junk looks. <br />(In reality, it looks rather neat compared to this)</span></td></tr>
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<br />
How can you still be getting stuck in life at my age? Honestly! When will I grow up already?<br />
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When I was a kid, I always imagined a 50+ woman to be on top of it all. Her routine would be well and truly worked out. Her house would be organised and function like clockwork. Perfection would have been worked out so that everything she did was effortless.<br />
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So how can you get to my age and still have a spare bed covered in washed clothes that never quite made it to the wardrobe? How can you have a pantry that is disorganised and in need of a grand cleanout after only living in this house for six months? How can I have boxes of unknown and lost things in two rooms of my house, stacked on the veranda, stuffed in no order at all in one of my stables? Cupboards still with stuff at the old house?<br />
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I blame the fact we still have not moved properly. We still have a quarter of a house at the old place. And you know what? The stuff I still have there, if I have not missed it yet, then do I really need it? Is it really important. There are still flat packs of Ikea wardrobes on the veranda, yet to be made into three dimensions so I have storage. We still have both son's stuff stored here.<br />
<br />
Here's your sign.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsL_bCD0y1-KLbbgXaQQ92824qviIde9Gd0m0wpO4elWU9KVY0D-zBMTK1DacC0oAFFt-H7U6vuvbF6igPAwX6IYBfYu2mO6YLLLyerTlCRPbk-rQui9O7JzjYB6kN5Q1cJCA3gs5NUs/s1600/sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsL_bCD0y1-KLbbgXaQQ92824qviIde9Gd0m0wpO4elWU9KVY0D-zBMTK1DacC0oAFFt-H7U6vuvbF6igPAwX6IYBfYu2mO6YLLLyerTlCRPbk-rQui9O7JzjYB6kN5Q1cJCA3gs5NUs/s1600/sign.jpg" /></a></div>
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This weekend I am doing my very own hoarders makeover. I am getting a great big tarp, spreading it out on the lawn. I am getting trestle tables and a whole pile of plastic storage crates. I have labels and black markers at the ready. There is a film crew coming to record my tears and tantrums. There will be a bossy lady yelling at me 'do you really need this!'. (not really, she will be in my head only)<br />
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I will drag out every box, pile and bit of stuff from all the places I have them stashed and I will go through each and every item. I plan on getting rid of at least a third of it, so if you want stuff ... come visit me Sunday afternoon ... it will be on the verge.<br />
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I will stack all the keeping stuff into plastic boxes, label it so I can find what I want (like all our birth certificates, marriage certificates and important documents that I know are somewhere but I can't find) and store them in a neat order on shelves in the storeroom set up in one of my stables.<br />
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Only then, can I end all this chaos in my mind. I can end trying to keep tabs on my junk. It is a terrible infliction, and I don't know why we do it to ourselves. My son asked me why I get so stressed about stuff I can't see? I never thought of it like that. I just know that I have these mental tabs on where it all is and it's bugging me like hell.<br />
<br />
Living simply, starts this weekend.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4qCGC2lip_7LBAwcn-lKZQIWJuSgAG9YQ6wUnx764tbFmoANt40hG7zYsAzlnHAn2DzDmj6OgCC2RpkPZMV4jTvNAZUpB7UIFhY1wJkVsY6N9p_8T9a65GsqWuX_2ttIaOMnkP5ra2kI/s1600/1573445807007447344RvGmmLgc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4qCGC2lip_7LBAwcn-lKZQIWJuSgAG9YQ6wUnx764tbFmoANt40hG7zYsAzlnHAn2DzDmj6OgCC2RpkPZMV4jTvNAZUpB7UIFhY1wJkVsY6N9p_8T9a65GsqWuX_2ttIaOMnkP5ra2kI/s320/1573445807007447344RvGmmLgc.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">... and they all lived happily ever after ...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-75109964164411188542015-07-03T10:00:00.000+08:002015-07-03T10:00:21.893+08:00The Farmhouse Mentality<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjgJTYhnzGl52Kpmke3iG1LP4BPJTWyO95TJMAWM5zYatX-vxhvCrtmIQ8jp4TbX8AcfjksAQ88edUWNIwaSCMmQwTuVQGtzysbRkp3osSIIx4IXE5qZ2ZkJxSgrVvMpavs8RkL8N9n8/s1600/2015-04-25+19.59.42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjgJTYhnzGl52Kpmke3iG1LP4BPJTWyO95TJMAWM5zYatX-vxhvCrtmIQ8jp4TbX8AcfjksAQ88edUWNIwaSCMmQwTuVQGtzysbRkp3osSIIx4IXE5qZ2ZkJxSgrVvMpavs8RkL8N9n8/s320/2015-04-25+19.59.42.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It may be just me, but I suspect it is not, but I always seem to have a busy, monologue going on in my head. Like counting when I am watering the pot plants "1,2, 3, ... 15, 16 ... and onto the next pot. 1,2,3 ...." That way they all get an even amount of water (is that OCD?). Or when I am loading the washing machine "OK that's one sock, there is its partner, good. Next sock, turn right way out, there is its partner, good". Picking tomatoes - "That's a good, one, and that one. That one is a bit green, must find that recipe for green tomato pickles, wonder how many tomatoes I will need, do they all need to be green, how green is too green." Vacuuming the floor - "damn dog hair, it's everywhere, I hate the floor being this grotty, what's that mark? Oh its a scratch, can't be too worried about it as there is a big gap in the floor, oh and another leaf blown in, never mind, this is a farm after all ..."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, so now I am guessing this might just be me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This raises my new mantra/voice in my head. "This is a farmhouse". Well it's not really, we are not actually living on a <i>farm</i> as such. It is a few acres, much larger than your suburban block, but still only 16 kms from the city centre. We do have stock - well chooks and dogs, and paddocks set up for horses, but none have come yet. (Is it really true, that if you build it, they will come?)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is a farm <i>house, </i>however. It was built in the sixties, with a Metters Warren No.1 stove, a fireplace in the lounge, wide verandas and stables. So lets say it is rural in character. It has wooden floors, that are polished jarrah and divine. There are bits of board missing, and patched over, knots and holes and deep scratches - it is a floor with a robust history. And made to cater to wet pawed, border collies. And booted husbands, with cheeky grins.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which is why I can (try to) sidestep my perfectionist tendencies and cajole myself to believe that a dirty (ish) floor is ok as this is a farmhouse. Same goes for a kitchen bench covered in zucchinis of varying sizes, tomatoes in varying colours, eggs with a little, umm, err, varying dirt on them, secateurs, and a big bunch of basil. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8syK0ucD5HZpwhjNZmVairlhdKGzwhm_vZV5Ez6xTAmiYkbgHg2CInF9mAiGV3Xrz5MaYToNLZmuyymiqH7l8mNtwUN7mHB_hWjLSi6MOINmsDqpiXPqMYOta6vKEps_5AHqIV82MSno/s1600/2015-06-07+17.10.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8syK0ucD5HZpwhjNZmVairlhdKGzwhm_vZV5Ez6xTAmiYkbgHg2CInF9mAiGV3Xrz5MaYToNLZmuyymiqH7l8mNtwUN7mHB_hWjLSi6MOINmsDqpiXPqMYOta6vKEps_5AHqIV82MSno/s320/2015-06-07+17.10.29.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The farmhouse mentality however, is having a hard time convincing my perfectionist mentality that tumbleweeds of dog hair rolling down the hallway is rustic, not revolting. That the dining room table covered in egg cartons, bags of oranges and a box of garlic is self-sufficient abundance not anarchy of order. That ash and twigs scattered around the fireplace is cosy not careless. That a laundry of piled washing (both done and to do) demonstrates a priority of time spent in the vegetable garden, which is neat and weeded and prolific.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wonder who is going to win this mental battle - Farmhouse or Perfectionist?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know which one I WANT to win!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-71125493216772851522015-06-29T12:19:00.002+08:002015-06-29T12:19:46.910+08:00In love with the idea of writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfysIDXyF0rSteA77qX4wWhqTmAiH-hJZB2vqKJIGymaTEQHMYnH3xehmAc3juXZSdz1GN3Em8nCdhTIGLWS6pX3rHcwIffhyphenhyphenK7wNRDaXf1OjDpE_H2gd2DwknS2M-KNrr-X__EBMd4rQ/s1600/20150629_115238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfysIDXyF0rSteA77qX4wWhqTmAiH-hJZB2vqKJIGymaTEQHMYnH3xehmAc3juXZSdz1GN3Em8nCdhTIGLWS6pX3rHcwIffhyphenhyphenK7wNRDaXf1OjDpE_H2gd2DwknS2M-KNrr-X__EBMd4rQ/s320/20150629_115238.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I look up at the bookcase above my desk. Between pretty journals and my favourite novels, sit books that thrill me and drive the daydreams cluttered with words, desks, books, quiet alone time, delicious creativity. Daydreams that get their material from Pinterest, Jane Eyre and writing classes. Some of my treasured books are:</span><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Writing From Start to Finish - Kate Grenville</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Beyond the First Draft - John Casey</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Writing Well - William Zinsser</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Writing Tools - Roy Peter Clark</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bird by Bird - Anne Lamott</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Writing Book - Kate Grenville </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Writers on Writing - James Roberts et all</span></li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCoEpoqbTjIOVLnnBVmOpw1o5IQSKhn8B4q_GUJ6yhLAdQ5DLhA-Nyeleh6t00hXMywJQgPoV3C1fXLJ5xOEDt_OyVPHRu6q0vDezgWExDGI2kMf20uYap42PvBI1hJDUDs0Uc84zfZ6g/s1600/Rita+Sackville+Writing+Room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCoEpoqbTjIOVLnnBVmOpw1o5IQSKhn8B4q_GUJ6yhLAdQ5DLhA-Nyeleh6t00hXMywJQgPoV3C1fXLJ5xOEDt_OyVPHRu6q0vDezgWExDGI2kMf20uYap42PvBI1hJDUDs0Uc84zfZ6g/s320/Rita+Sackville+Writing+Room.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;">Vita Sackville-West had a whole tower of her own to write in (and plan her gardens at Sissinghurst)</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These same books can also fill me with despair and despondency</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. They mock me and call me out as a wannabe writer. Days when the words just won't flow, are silly and pathetic, they sound forced and amateurish. These books of wisdom</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> and encouragement just serve to highlight my shortcomings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Who am I kidding anyway? Pffft ... writer indeed!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mind wanders from the daily goal of 1000 words, to blogs, to news stories, to a new email (not to facebook as I have learnt to turn that off!). Chastising myself, I reread the scene I have just written, the one I have been squeezing out of my brain for the last two hours, that little voice in my head telling me the whole time '<i>this is crap, whoever said you could write, you write like a six year old, silly baby words and all disjointed.</i>' As I try and ignore this voice, I am reading my words, and I don't recognise them as my own. They sound ok, that bits funny, there is a sentence there that really works. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Encouraged, I go back a few chapters and read some more. It's filled with spelling errors and some terrible grammar, but I like the scene I am reading, I like the character I have created. It gets me excited again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Taking a break, I read some more of Bird by Bird, and she is writing the exact same thing I was thinking. She thinks her words are crap too, she asks herself who she is kidding being a writer. She tells me that this is all normal and common and part of what being a writer is all about. She tells me to write a 'Shitty First Draft'. To just get the words and the story out of my head. We can fix all the mechanics later.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The voice of negativity pipes up and says '<i>that's all well and good, but a real writer can WRITE - make beautiful words on the page, they just come to them, their shitty first draft does not look like yours ... they just have to tidy a few things up in the rewrite, not redo the whole bloody thing.'</i></span></div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/seMwpP0yeu4/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/seMwpP0yeu4?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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(I know this is a kids movie, but I love the concept - )</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It seems to be a universal thought - you can only call yourself a writer if you have a published and successful book. A real writer can construct perfect sentences and find words that resonate without effort. It's the people who ignore this universal thought who become the writers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I offer that we can all call ourselves a writer - anyone who takes the time to put pen to paper, or finger to key, is bringing their thoughts to life - they are writing!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-60960749964087233752015-03-20T10:55:00.000+08:002015-03-20T10:55:07.157+08:00Can't concentrate - another symptom of anxiety.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQJBbJZOZ2D-pjpjUjQIjVupXcrl6wftIkIs1a_-dVtnFozaytWggqC7PciUZZjoyyGoEGz1NuyZiDfQN2n7gh_9TxR5Ee7wX8SahLjOSSmshLapi6dQNTNKEjNy3hmPjUs9DHDNsPR4/s1600/Too-much-distractions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQJBbJZOZ2D-pjpjUjQIjVupXcrl6wftIkIs1a_-dVtnFozaytWggqC7PciUZZjoyyGoEGz1NuyZiDfQN2n7gh_9TxR5Ee7wX8SahLjOSSmshLapi6dQNTNKEjNy3hmPjUs9DHDNsPR4/s1600/Too-much-distractions.jpg" height="218" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mind is all over the place these days, like the floor of a teenagers bedroom, it's strewn with undone tasks and discarded ideas. A symptom of anxiety, my poor brain feels like a fat kid let loose in a candy store with a bucket and the words "go grab what you want". Shiny and bright things keep grabbing my attention and I turn from each bit of bling to the next.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today is Friday - Writing Day. 8am. I sit down to the computer to write. My mind is still not quite awake, so I get permission to read a little Facebook while I drink a coffee. I see a link to a great writing piece, or a tutorial on using Scrivener, or a link to a news story, or worse, a link to videos of naughty cats or 10 celebrities that forgot to put on makeup. Distractions galore. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBQUm6E8gg_X1ZQa_xXNjVWQsG9P23m4pQv8EobPWa7cNhqpdFxaeQk5rGq4qE0sfZKAieoMfnPgkwFxHQRXJfUNELIehlXBKHbMDHLFkAscGJ5UgW9hB76t25Tavbvr7eDpo45HpPjA/s1600/ADD-distracted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBQUm6E8gg_X1ZQa_xXNjVWQsG9P23m4pQv8EobPWa7cNhqpdFxaeQk5rGq4qE0sfZKAieoMfnPgkwFxHQRXJfUNELIehlXBKHbMDHLFkAscGJ5UgW9hB76t25Tavbvr7eDpo45HpPjA/s1600/ADD-distracted.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But once I get to the distraction, then 2 seconds into reading that, I am distracted again. I remember that I need to check my bank account, an email comes in, I see a previously open tab of a website that I wanted to read. I check my calendar. I look up and see all the books on my shelf that I still need to read. I decide that a load of washing needs to be put on. While I am in the laundry, I clean the toilet. Fold the towels from the dyer. Go back to the computer and recheck my emails. Check my chin for stray hairs, decide that a mirror and tweezers are needed. Make another cup of coffee. Empty the dead roses from the vase I pass. Think that I need to go pick fresh flowers ....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I chastise myself. I am meant to be writing. I convince myself that my brain needs waking up and I should do my daily brain training to kick start it. Halfway through, I get a facebook message. I check it. It's a link from a friend to her dropbox. She is on holidays. I start checking her pics and remember that I need to book flights to Sydney. I go to the booking site and an email comes in from my favourite homewares shop and they have a sale!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In under an hour, I have 15 tabs on my browser open, the washing machine on spin cycle, half a comment started on a friends blog post, two books pulled from the shelf and stacked beside my reading chair, a clean toilet, hairless chin and not one single word of writing done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't blame the modern age of information overload entirely. I just can't seem to stick at any one task for more than a few seconds. I know its my anxiety that is causing this, I could not still my mind if my life depended on it right now. The notion of 'Mindfulness' is a far horizon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Telling myself off and to "just get on with it", I reread what I have started and although I can read the words, they do not make a sentence in my mind. I get stuck on one word, while new and brighter ideas pop into my head. I scream at myself to STOP this!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WChZWC8VYoavztwt33YfG_pKUkPcADPZhx2aW-qRUXTOEALs_TLxipTAUsGRQ9EVUTAZbQSrVEj8NmyJp4Y7zh2VUiHQiYkuMvKh645TKIv140mv59VzF_RIt_ZPWJLFpUw_xsL3MaE/s1600/distraction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WChZWC8VYoavztwt33YfG_pKUkPcADPZhx2aW-qRUXTOEALs_TLxipTAUsGRQ9EVUTAZbQSrVEj8NmyJp4Y7zh2VUiHQiYkuMvKh645TKIv140mv59VzF_RIt_ZPWJLFpUw_xsL3MaE/s1600/distraction.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then in defeat, I sit in my reading chair with a book in my hand and just stare out the window with nothing but how tired I am on my mind. I catch myself nodding off like an old grandma dog and eventually give in to a nap on the couch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It has taken me two hours to write this. I won't bore you with the 101 distractions I have succumbed to, not because I care, but because recounting them is a distraction in itself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By this afternoon, when</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I have written no more words to my word count and feel scattered and cast adrift in a sea of overload, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will feel so guilty and disgusted with myself that I will watch crap TV to escape that feeling.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want my old mind back. Anxiety sucks!</span><br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-75962873357031762432015-02-27T12:17:00.000+08:002015-02-27T12:17:46.483+08:00Be sure of what you Like on Facebook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4U0TxjYrmspUa2V6uHp0I14wYTugIZl5Fq4wwnn4t7z9YI7rnQDDXuVZXBtrf5ZttPLOGUy9psRNVEv6rW1OQL3h3kLN5F34YrrYdRJ66HsXlqoM6OMfIkiKfNBndR-hB7LzvcJKhjgk/s1600/fb.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4U0TxjYrmspUa2V6uHp0I14wYTugIZl5Fq4wwnn4t7z9YI7rnQDDXuVZXBtrf5ZttPLOGUy9psRNVEv6rW1OQL3h3kLN5F34YrrYdRJ66HsXlqoM6OMfIkiKfNBndR-hB7LzvcJKhjgk/s1600/fb.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stepping into the foray of social commentary and the world of PC for a moment to make a comment and perhaps a heads-up on something I saw on my Facebook today. I did briefly think to put this as a post on Facebook but I don't want to offend anyone, nor look like I am having a go at anyone. So, being the <strike>big chicken</strike> conflict avoider and peace keeper that I am, I will make this a tale of morals for a generic audience.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You know that little LIKE button on our Facebook page? Seems like a harmless icon you click when you see something funny, or cute, or a shared POV. If it really moves you in some way, you Share the post, or even make a Comment. The latter two actions however, require a little more thought process than the quick hit of the Like button. When you make a comment, you think about the message you are portraying, how you want to say it, how it will come across. If you share the post, then you have a specific audience in mind, and weigh up if this action will give the right message. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YTiWSNk8u_92a2dUnKNdRjMYSKOF1vGtar1r3_XmhHqJsSgkePKzjEEqfr0mCcOZM3IukdSSrjMbdprr2C8l2qhQZUmWNnMIqRxhPgPUUF8DGn8qIyT1GsubimMSfZmuKa_woVYSpHs/s1600/like+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YTiWSNk8u_92a2dUnKNdRjMYSKOF1vGtar1r3_XmhHqJsSgkePKzjEEqfr0mCcOZM3IukdSSrjMbdprr2C8l2qhQZUmWNnMIqRxhPgPUUF8DGn8qIyT1GsubimMSfZmuKa_woVYSpHs/s1600/like+1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But, do we ever really stop to think what we are liking? How the action of Liking a post on someone elses FB page appears on our own page. What is this Liking saying about you - Your Values? Your Morals? Your Likes and even Dislikes? Your sense of humour or fairplay?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you constantly Like cute little kittens and puppies, videos of baby pandas, miniature donkeys, Firemen rescuing fluffy ducklings, then we can assume that you are a girly girl (or boy) who is a big softie at heart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you Like pictures of rainbows and unicorns and fairies, then you are bit of a dreamer who puts their fate into the hands of the universe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Inspirational quotes and sayings tell me you are determined, aspirational, a perfectionist who even on bad days sees the positive (at least strives to)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Political slurs and rants - usually a one eyed supporter of a particular party. (This goes for sports teams as well)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Funny jokes, video's cartoons - well who doesn't like a (tasteful) one of these? Except, this is where it all falls apart. One man's funny is another man's offensive. It's all too easy to like a joke or cartoon that may not be funny at all to some. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, why this commentary? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I saw on my newsfeed a post about high profile Aussie women who had received personal and nasty tweets about their appearance. There was outrage by all the women posters, and deservedly so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But a few posts later, and the same person who Liked the above, also Liked a picture of our PM being compared to Gollum from Lord Of the Rings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hypocrisy anyone?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAwMDVpRvbPp-gFrZ0jGBcEZUvuJokJcJK1drmpxhYJcsg-Le5pmfAdmYL42CCgrjKzd_walep6ANaUFGVsIIb_AqX4TfTmzRfxU1tu5KpHwJq738JPnOWvmBznmy2YcwqWV3MnIwX6Y/s1600/like+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAwMDVpRvbPp-gFrZ0jGBcEZUvuJokJcJK1drmpxhYJcsg-Le5pmfAdmYL42CCgrjKzd_walep6ANaUFGVsIIb_AqX4TfTmzRfxU1tu5KpHwJq738JPnOWvmBznmy2YcwqWV3MnIwX6Y/s1600/like+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not political, nor a feminist, I do however, have very strong beliefs in hypocrisy. If it's not good for the goose then its not good for the gander.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So these seemingly innocent Likes, allude to this person having double standards. Was this the message they wanted to put out there? Am I reading too much into this? Is Facebook just a bit of silly fun?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I am on the quotes, maybe we should also remember this one all our Mothers taught us - "If you have nothing nice to say about a person, then don't say anything at all". Because if you do, then it says more about you as a person than it does them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Hang on, it's a bit hard to get down off the soapbox with my dodgy knee)</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-39887832466736919842015-02-19T12:39:00.000+08:002015-02-20T12:40:19.217+08:00Mirror mirror on the wall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDz_XCYUN0g0s_QwxJiocNftBWRY633x4hfDy-Actm_UPgyCg_cBDBPIT4Lbu7Bz8xkCmODrsJevQDeakdIRujsJr52v5h70YHcjMY3EOMDO-LNKa_uXVsm6ZP6MilhBogc93IsTzYbaU/s1600/20150205_102228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDz_XCYUN0g0s_QwxJiocNftBWRY633x4hfDy-Actm_UPgyCg_cBDBPIT4Lbu7Bz8xkCmODrsJevQDeakdIRujsJr52v5h70YHcjMY3EOMDO-LNKa_uXVsm6ZP6MilhBogc93IsTzYbaU/s640/20150205_102228.jpg" height="320" width="180" /> </a> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Reflection and perception are funny things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have this mirror in our new house. It was left behind by a tenant and it has remained there as the only bathroom mirror. Using it the first few times I was frustrated as it is in very poor light, you can't get close enough to see the finer points and putting makeup on in here was a guess at best, not much better than doing it in the dark, at worst. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But over the weeks we having been living here I have come to rather like the work this mirror does. I wash my face in it, check for stray beard-hairs, put on my makeup and do my hair in its mediocre reflection. It all looks OK to me. My skin looks smooth and bright. The eye shadow and mascara look in place. There doesn't appear to be any moustache.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think I actually pass as OK. Certainly presentable enough to pop down the shops, even off to work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The full length mirror in the hallway, with great light and an honest face and the little flip down mirror in my car are singing to a different hymn book however. They think honesty is the sign of a true friendship. We </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">are no longer friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I like the sweet little lies the bathroom mirror tells me. We can be friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which got me wondering today. </span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you still look good when you feel inside that</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> you do? (and that your mirror is confirming this)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Is appearance only what you see or is it how you think you look. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who is judging this beauty contest anyway?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you feel great, who cares?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Is this what blokes have worked out? A quick look in a bad, good or indifferent mirror gives them the false belief that 'yeah I look pretty good.' They strutt out into the world thinking they are gods gift while us women peer and scrutinise and confirm with 4 different mirrors in 3 different light conditions to convince ourselves that we really do look like we think we do.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, for some smart, young entrepreneur, go out and develop a I-always-look-good mirror to replace all the honesty is the best policy ones. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This also applies to my over 50 age and having to wear glasses for the small print. If I don't see the dust (or the ring on the tub, or the coffee stain on the bench) - does it still exist? Is this why older women get happier, and more relaxed?</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-37069091280230045152015-02-09T16:10:00.003+08:002015-02-09T16:11:27.326+08:00It's the Little Things #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkPh5HGlDWqjyspbPcXMjX-PtcyTCH4YR6BA265sU5WLQqPFu7EilNv8grewOsqg_vLwuOnjK1bJ1Rq4hPmvELk5IfpJYDGrayMcxvgXvtb9yAvo45zOEPI2sKrc7TMbrdLtb08REE0A/s1600/Kookas+close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkPh5HGlDWqjyspbPcXMjX-PtcyTCH4YR6BA265sU5WLQqPFu7EilNv8grewOsqg_vLwuOnjK1bJ1Rq4hPmvELk5IfpJYDGrayMcxvgXvtb9yAvo45zOEPI2sKrc7TMbrdLtb08REE0A/s1600/Kookas+close.jpg" height="216" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Go on... you know you want to ... sing it .... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Merry, merry king of the bush is he</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Kookaburra, gay your life must be!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These are a few of our resident Kookaburras that come to visit us each evening to roost in the big Spotted Gum by the stables. They arrive just as the last of the light is fading, laughing and calling to their family to come roost for the night. They number between two and six, and come most nights.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFD8IRb0NvVjVxjp3sMCCa3E50n2_Rhm51QNW9swoz_D_waHGGvsMFWodM6S6-0pjzhoOWDJm8bLypVKVe13Q6E9FJF5GDnm8LT1P4BujlnnRqawhcsLGOkQISDwB8-1IZUDlu58fP-wA/s1600/DSC_0192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFD8IRb0NvVjVxjp3sMCCa3E50n2_Rhm51QNW9swoz_D_waHGGvsMFWodM6S6-0pjzhoOWDJm8bLypVKVe13Q6E9FJF5GDnm8LT1P4BujlnnRqawhcsLGOkQISDwB8-1IZUDlu58fP-wA/s1600/DSC_0192.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They leave at first light, saying goodbye with a laugh as they head off to hunt for the day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It makes us smile to know they like our home enough to make it theirs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few interesting facts about Kookaburras and the Kookaburra Song</span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They are an Australian Kingfisher</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The song was first performed in 1934 at a Girl Guides Jamboree</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The tune is the same as a Welsh song about a Blackbird</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The song featured in a 2006 episode of Dr Who, Fear Her</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The laughing kookaburra is not native to Western Australia</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The laughing is to mark their territory</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A girl wrote the lyrics to the song!</span></li>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-53155004485836565002015-02-02T12:08:00.004+08:002015-02-02T12:08:47.323+08:00Weekend Work - <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Gardening is the theme this month. Silly I know in this relentless Perth heat to be trying to garden. One advantage is that if plants get enough water, they sure do grow when its hot and humid. If gardening is the theme, then planning is the action. With 2.4 acres as our gardening playground, there is a lot of planning to do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>Vege Patch (or what I want to call one day The Kitchen Garden)</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The vegetable garden has been started, albeit a temporary bed to get some summer greens going. I started back in November by putting down black plastic over the vege plot area to kill off the grass and weeds. I don't want to use any chemical weed killers in my edible gardens, and this method worked well. The searing heat worked to kill off most of the grasses and weeds. A few runners of that evil couch persisted around the edges, and I did spray this with glysophate as no vegies will be grown here - it's the only way to kill that terminator stuff. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then we made raised beds from bales of hay and filled it with soil, manure and plants. See <a href="https://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com/b/post-preview?token=VeTUSUsBAAA.26BeaG3rm-yrsfpNf4Ii4A.mQZCJ_RZ4JMU-DFYwChCDQ&postId=4574349832976094566&type=POST" target="_blank">It's the little things</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's been good to have the time to watch and observe how this area is effected by the weather. It cops the easterlies in the evening and early morning and is in full sun all day. Shade sails have helped with the hottest days, but a good 12-14 hours sunlight is what vegetables love best. The wind can be managed with well placed wind breaks, temporary ones are hay bales while we plan and plant more permanent ones. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEetWlDkQZnGnoErPhfADlKWKYSc6RKak3vgJWw6c5Ve3f4KBTSdx942ooo0BScIu1NO-ssjU7uYJvm-AxyA1pO5vCo14O9FMOj_pngngtrGTX6fPTT_BxPQoCRTiXu0D6KXHwxkKsxRs/s1600/DSC_0239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEetWlDkQZnGnoErPhfADlKWKYSc6RKak3vgJWw6c5Ve3f4KBTSdx942ooo0BScIu1NO-ssjU7uYJvm-AxyA1pO5vCo14O9FMOj_pngngtrGTX6fPTT_BxPQoCRTiXu0D6KXHwxkKsxRs/s1600/DSC_0239.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy Marigolds </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>Roses</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We inherited the rose garden from the previous owners, and although their selection of 30 roses is lovely, the placement and position is not ideal. The soil is very poor and water repellent, with the roots of large gum trees to navigate. I have been adding sheep manure and soil improver, which seems to just dissolve into the parched ground. Must be making some progress however, as digging around it on the weekend I found a lot of earthworms. After we took back the property from the tenants, I also had to content with the rose garden being overtaken with kikuyu and cooch and every weed known to man. Its been a slow but steady improvement. The next challenge will be to try and keep the lorrikeets and parrots of the bushes - they seem to like biting off any new shoots or rose buds. Perhaps if I move the bird bath (der) from there it will be less of an encouragement to the birds. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n2DRFha0lSMP5J4iy9fe8eVlP-Ui7l-INghOLpNgy3tUF9G-1PXPoWNIzhLJ0kgD5843lEl_N0u3oO1JkIIwVkdZgd88lW4MpKEqdOHCDgtW4gKlqP6vKRSzgi6kH7E0s5EnmFpenYY/s1600/DSC_0233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n2DRFha0lSMP5J4iy9fe8eVlP-Ui7l-INghOLpNgy3tUF9G-1PXPoWNIzhLJ0kgD5843lEl_N0u3oO1JkIIwVkdZgd88lW4MpKEqdOHCDgtW4gKlqP6vKRSzgi6kH7E0s5EnmFpenYY/s1600/DSC_0233.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sad, but hopefully still alive, roses</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Five rose bushes have been moved as they were in the path of the new carport. Not the ideal time to be transplanting roses (in fact, its the very worst time possible) but we had no choice in the matter. Three have taken well to their move, the jury is still out on the other two. My favourite of these is a lovely fragrant, climbing Iceberg. I hope she makes it. They are now in a little 7.5m bed running along the south/east side of the vegetable garden. There is room for three more roses when the weather cools.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVZg7o1HZkH9EKdBQ-AoDLI3qtHuBlWmUihu8nFVcZmGSaUyO0O5XKcbfX0V_viALRwcTprW0mxqN5MJz5kr79RM7FzbuMjA21VgRW1udIPmmttlXIX82XfIrPTu9WO77RhY9LIrwMYno/s1600/DSC_0234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVZg7o1HZkH9EKdBQ-AoDLI3qtHuBlWmUihu8nFVcZmGSaUyO0O5XKcbfX0V_viALRwcTprW0mxqN5MJz5kr79RM7FzbuMjA21VgRW1udIPmmttlXIX82XfIrPTu9WO77RhY9LIrwMYno/s1600/DSC_0234.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One little rose bush putting up a good fight.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>Lawn</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The grassed area around the house was in a very poor state when we moved here. Tenants had been parking on the lawn area for years, compacting the soil and killing off any grass that tried to grow. The first job was to get some soil wetting agent onto it, then fertiliser and then work on the compaction. All this done and we could begin to water everyday, with runners being planted in the bare patches. So far, after three months we have 75% coverage. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizABxJhPuLvrpI4j23y1fMzxT0N6MugAGLmIDpEz8Jfya8hbgi9-fe4pyBLtRDhs3Y1mfix5Hflrwg3-Hcqiz7Kv54_zJqTUbLC-lGCTyLjWdRtxZYUP-IqCEtuC5a6Ne1aJUuIR8JQM0/s1600/WG+Easter+2012+Before+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizABxJhPuLvrpI4j23y1fMzxT0N6MugAGLmIDpEz8Jfya8hbgi9-fe4pyBLtRDhs3Y1mfix5Hflrwg3-Hcqiz7Kv54_zJqTUbLC-lGCTyLjWdRtxZYUP-IqCEtuC5a6Ne1aJUuIR8JQM0/s1600/WG+Easter+2012+Before+024.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">From this....</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzmM8s0XCoGWQ4NWowQQ3roisivWoIxIC-jijHZbeo67IRPZneBxUejYR9QnDyqGrNBNEMHjmnNB-Rprb0gLjtUrOTZq_owd4Z6WJ24fCFJJk7iOgna7WRl2vl2CIjagDboquvNppo34/s1600/DSC_0231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzmM8s0XCoGWQ4NWowQQ3roisivWoIxIC-jijHZbeo67IRPZneBxUejYR9QnDyqGrNBNEMHjmnNB-Rprb0gLjtUrOTZq_owd4Z6WJ24fCFJJk7iOgna7WRl2vl2CIjagDboquvNppo34/s1600/DSC_0231.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To this ...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1k3EZOll9admtoqMyJPokoazir0u7J0YTzJMxbwpS3IWyWjgr793IDpDHKiK1lYAxyhkE2YU20dSFlBGPRWVf5bnYT99Hql9vYZEKy9qhH2bvvNLfWOG1-Iuxhdg4dFS-uSqo5WLabJI/s1600/DSC_0227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1k3EZOll9admtoqMyJPokoazir0u7J0YTzJMxbwpS3IWyWjgr793IDpDHKiK1lYAxyhkE2YU20dSFlBGPRWVf5bnYT99Hql9vYZEKy9qhH2bvvNLfWOG1-Iuxhdg4dFS-uSqo5WLabJI/s1600/DSC_0227.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...and this.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>Ideas</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There so many ideas and dreams for this garden. I just keep jotting them down as I think of them and hopefully, eventually they will come to fruition. Some of them are:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to fill the garden with fragrance and beauty. The first part of this is to get some form with fragrant climbers. I found this website from the very knowledgeable Sabrina Hahn. <a href="https://au.news.yahoo.com/thewest/lifestyle/a/25581064/five-of-the-best-fragrant-climbers/" target="_blank">Five of the best fragrant climbers</a> </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Raised beds of strawberries at the ends of the stables.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A grove of Silver Birch with bluebells underneath (big ask in Perth, but my English heritage demands this)</span></li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TyqgSwFuPBt3dhsdi7ZTsYzH5OclB48O8H-yxfjqdALot5P6Fth6WodFKJkCOqeE7ssX0VXoi0u7F8d2U_XhT_dCI0pXMqcl-kFMEkejxgy27EJOnm3JaOf_xPb8-fqIlpYepTEzQaQ/s1600/silver+birch+bluebells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TyqgSwFuPBt3dhsdi7ZTsYzH5OclB48O8H-yxfjqdALot5P6Fth6WodFKJkCOqeE7ssX0VXoi0u7F8d2U_XhT_dCI0pXMqcl-kFMEkejxgy27EJOnm3JaOf_xPb8-fqIlpYepTEzQaQ/s1600/silver+birch+bluebells.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A tropical and lush garden around the pool and cabana</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A native garden to bring in the little birds</span></li>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-45743498329760945662015-01-30T13:00:00.000+08:002015-01-30T15:17:03.584+08:00It's the little things #1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQMR9woNzc20jG0bLKCzhEFzaOaFK-Ul5_vHhe6whUGboVQjer6lt0S9q2ICs07E9cTjmGN135BdqnixyACz5yJQX3f0n5VQYYgXN0ImHCn1f7nIbVITzL40SQSHigHF4TYjDjxk8Uog/s1600/20150130_124023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQMR9woNzc20jG0bLKCzhEFzaOaFK-Ul5_vHhe6whUGboVQjer6lt0S9q2ICs07E9cTjmGN135BdqnixyACz5yJQX3f0n5VQYYgXN0ImHCn1f7nIbVITzL40SQSHigHF4TYjDjxk8Uog/s1600/20150130_124023.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Among other things that made me smile today, was being able to go out to my rose garden and select a few perfect blooms to place on my desk. This made me smile because it set the tone for the day ... it would be a writing day (well after the work was done). </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcnBUELrTVnxQuzkeM5GUceT-EzWRvhuDdeh0mQuS7soELjusqxAVTFO70ded9yWlE4K3DOrym2NbsEX9MncRCiQ2YInhLPU8d3ZJOpqiRPwhGx4gtGo7tzONj3froH6tbJ-9ZcTamBls/s1600/20150130_120443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcnBUELrTVnxQuzkeM5GUceT-EzWRvhuDdeh0mQuS7soELjusqxAVTFO70ded9yWlE4K3DOrym2NbsEX9MncRCiQ2YInhLPU8d3ZJOpqiRPwhGx4gtGo7tzONj3froH6tbJ-9ZcTamBls/s1600/20150130_120443.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It has been hot here in Perth, oppressively hot at times, the upside of this is the rampant plant growth, provided they get the water. This little Honeysuckle was only planted early December and already it is almost to the top of the wire. We can smell it all over the property, when the wind blows or on a balmy night. It thrives in this sheltered spot next to the potting shed and growing up the </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">chook pen wire.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1Ojol-l-y0eOEIt0nAGvmwpH42ug5_pckU9PIxLCp2hvgWTtXRaAZrMJeLgagIX9ixFTv74_wFgA8AaasYahgqOAeY_jwDpkLsVTgDMNAoxYZXBJLrzb1bQ-6j8Ltcba7Owwgefo20k/s1600/20150130_120525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1Ojol-l-y0eOEIt0nAGvmwpH42ug5_pckU9PIxLCp2hvgWTtXRaAZrMJeLgagIX9ixFTv74_wFgA8AaasYahgqOAeY_jwDpkLsVTgDMNAoxYZXBJLrzb1bQ-6j8Ltcba7Owwgefo20k/s1600/20150130_120525.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the temporary vege garden. Made of lupin straw bales and filled with soil we had scrapped off the shed site, it has proved to be a great bed for our summer crop. I enriched the soil with rotted cow manure, mulched with sheep poo and lupin mulch. This is only 4 weeks of growth, with most plants starting as seeds in the ground. I think the bore water is having a very positive effect, which was pointed out to us when we had the water tested. The shade sails were a must when we had days of 40+ and then a week of 35+ weather. In this bed alone I have:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chili</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">roma tomatoes</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">rocket</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">asian greens</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">thyme</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">tarragon</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">zucchini</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">sage</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and of course the cheery little marigolds</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And in the other bed is:</span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">sweet corn</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">cucumbers</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">watermelon</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48CWunnFj4A90r7rFWpGNJ0BrzwRSQeADdvj7_2DlzINte3yeO10ksco470oiefiQsH-KUebEEaM3sKX9xIbkxkfQUZFwX0EXa03icXDGNNmkKb5PntL_Qwpy3LDM1y55zc2vM0Fjmxw/s1600/20150130_120457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48CWunnFj4A90r7rFWpGNJ0BrzwRSQeADdvj7_2DlzINte3yeO10ksco470oiefiQsH-KUebEEaM3sKX9xIbkxkfQUZFwX0EXa03icXDGNNmkKb5PntL_Qwpy3LDM1y55zc2vM0Fjmxw/s1600/20150130_120457.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The back of the stables became a temporary garden where all the pot plants were dumped when we moved. They have been in rehab ever since, but will explore them more in another post. Here are the last of the grape tomatoes, which have been producing for weeks now. The little petunias have done well considering this is a very hot spot in the mornings and they are in very little soil. Growing up through the tomato bush is my favorite climbing pelargonium, I thought it was dead, but water and care have restored it. We are picking lots of basil, mint, sage and parsley from here too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So the journey to contentment is continuing, I hope yours is too. xx</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-23048823387354631742015-01-27T15:39:00.002+08:002015-02-03T15:54:38.903+08:00Where has my Mojo gone?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's the 27th January and I should be full flight into a planned routine and have a full Master To Do List, each task scheduled into the next month with a checkbox next to it. Instead I am aimless and lost and still eating mince pies out of boredom and a lack of enthusiasm. This is repeat on a theme, see 2012 <a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012_01_01_archive.html" target="_blank">Pretending its the 1st January</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumoW3D63LTcfZpJAR00zd28cRB19LjH4AZrxdrL5fCbq_YH8STRFOskrNU8FV4ES2_x7JN7giVCkcvkztLGVugJE5G7n8JS6WFBHlyeqXYUHfwEzATnVmSn25RAy-8qA4aUx8PNtLsKM/s1600/20150127_153820.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumoW3D63LTcfZpJAR00zd28cRB19LjH4AZrxdrL5fCbq_YH8STRFOskrNU8FV4ES2_x7JN7giVCkcvkztLGVugJE5G7n8JS6WFBHlyeqXYUHfwEzATnVmSn25RAy-8qA4aUx8PNtLsKM/s1600/20150127_153820.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am at a loss as to why this is. We have moved to the place that I thought was going to be my utopia. I should be waking up full of energy and joy every day. The high point of my day is that I wake up at all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am happy, of sorts, and I am starting to feel a little more contented. So why the lack of energy? Why the lack of a clear daily routine. (A few weeks ago I was bragging about my routine, silly me, it only lasted a week)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here are my reasons (or excuses) why I can't seem to get out of bed early and why I keep searching Google for 'why am I the only one who can't stick to a routine', 'why do I feel so tired all the time, when I sleep so damned much?', 'painless ways to motive me'...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My reasons for this lethargy ... what are yours?</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's summer, in Perth, and its freaking HOT and dry and everything is as listless as I am</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The move is not complete - we still have a whole furnished house that is still being sold and every week we have to go and spruce it up for the Home Open. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The new house is only partially set up - see above for why</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">January is always the month where people take holidays, the kids are still off school ... it still feels like we did as kids with no structure to our summer holiday. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did I mention that it's freaking hot, for days on end, with not a drop of rain?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My diary only just arrived last week and I am still working out all the new features</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are still unpacking boxes .. they seem to keep breeding and multiplying the longer I leave them</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been told my Chakras are all out of whack.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven't found the perfect pen yet - or the perfect app on my tablet - to be all creative and organised.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">February is coming up, this Sunday will be the 1st. This is my start date, who wants to run with the crowd and use January 1st as the start date anyway?</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-58364556353809792552014-12-01T09:36:00.002+08:002014-12-01T09:36:39.589+08:001 December 2014 ... Moving Day<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My calendar has a big red ring around Monday 1st December. In black writing it says Moving Day!!!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsBM4b0J2LABE-VLH0Mca40ZQNMZ0nNfyhnU4Dx2G7yeCEe6wQrXqJ-4QTWUgpDm8oPjHXlFbidIpYdO0h13Bb7MWFI1hqKtT3dk7jsXC0qcFb4Ap9Zl9GMN8MX_yX8xwGOYPkyQlPVc/s1600/36+Lewis+RD+(69)%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsBM4b0J2LABE-VLH0Mca40ZQNMZ0nNfyhnU4Dx2G7yeCEe6wQrXqJ-4QTWUgpDm8oPjHXlFbidIpYdO0h13Bb7MWFI1hqKtT3dk7jsXC0qcFb4Ap9Zl9GMN8MX_yX8xwGOYPkyQlPVc/s1600/36+Lewis+RD+(69)%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The house when we first bought it almost 5 years ago. Tenants certainly took their toll on the lawn.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This date was selected 11 months ago, in our driveway, on our way to work. Why this date? Neither of us know, it was just a date, far into the future, that would cement the coveted prize of living on our beloved property, rather than a long line of tenants. The planets were coming into alignment. Tenants had given notice, all thoughts of selling WG had been dashed by a stagnant real estate market, especially acreage such as this, other factors had come into line.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This day was 4 years, 9 months in an exercise in waiting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This day was the day that kept me going, kept me getting out of bed each day, kept me working in a basement with no light, gave me hope that one day it would all work out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Except this day, today, happened two weeks ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We time traveled into the future. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So today, Moving Day, has been and gone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today is for settling in, unpacking boxes, building wardrobes and hanging clothes, finding homes for all the stuff that makes up our lives. All the million and one little jobs that come after the moving day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is not a complete house move. We are leaving the old place mostly furnished so it will look better for selling. I think they call this Staged! I am hoping it sells fast as I want my furniture in my farmhouse. My dresser and dining table that my Dad made, our well lived in leather couch, the sofa for our bedroom, bookcases. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But for now, we are comfortable .. and happy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Contentment is not far away.</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-34747413386271076002014-11-30T07:50:00.000+08:002014-12-01T09:37:03.073+08:00A daily routine begins to form<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have a natural aversion to routines, but deep down they have a way of balancing the equilibrium of our mostly hectic life. I waver from being a rebellious fan of spontaneity to closet craving a structured routine determined by the clock.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0mchRR2TV1wdur3AbMDTzvAb9W1qMIDThUIektnMtk-I8hjy7k1cSc3-zGT6Jqg5MeFhYzZVKUieP_Mcirw0fLYxvkFcThQrjW4i6UD47KVA3MISkxbqJx4TJD5gXR1pCxZvCqTibr9I/s1600/2014-11-25+08.02.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0mchRR2TV1wdur3AbMDTzvAb9W1qMIDThUIektnMtk-I8hjy7k1cSc3-zGT6Jqg5MeFhYzZVKUieP_Mcirw0fLYxvkFcThQrjW4i6UD47KVA3MISkxbqJx4TJD5gXR1pCxZvCqTibr9I/s1600/2014-11-25+08.02.54.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The clock in its new home .. the kitchen. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At WG, Animals are determining that a routine shapes me, not by a clock but by the hours of daylight, and I must say I am starting to enjoy it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's light(ish) here at 4.30am, although the official sunrise is not until 5am (or 5:03am according to the ABC weather - I always love their unwavering optimism "The sun <u>will</u> rise at 5:03am ..."). Tom Dog tiptoes into my bedroom at first light, he shoves his wet, cold nose into my warm blankets and the minute I acknowledge him, two black and white paws launch onto the sheets for excessive pats. When I say enough, he click, clicks on the wooden floor, around the other side of the bed to sniff and poke the princess dog, Minty. She is less of a morning person than I, greeting him with a growl. He eventually flops down on the rug beside my bed, with a melodramatic, teenage sigh and goes back to sleep until 5:30.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I get up, dress, and head on out to let the girls out of their house. I have them locked up at night for the moment, just until I can trust their yard to be fox proof. Tom races to the chook pen whilst I am still putting on my shoes, sniffing about for any night time intruders scent. I can hear the girls all clucking and telling me off for taking so long to release them. Once I open the door, four bossy black hens coming racing out, down the step and into the yard. Poor Daphne, the lone Light Sussex, comes out last, keeping well out of the way of the matriarch Daisy.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0h4yhX43kxw64lXyc_tRo5TgICRi-BUZCukttMxhS6To6emZBCLLi6mZzIj-VROzHuNmu8tOk5WgB5ZhT9Q0uXz5l-I52DeS6TUnouIwGSw48voub5D1dEAJPH9FxQ8w3KQYY5EIaFw/s1600/2014-12-01+07.22.26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0h4yhX43kxw64lXyc_tRo5TgICRi-BUZCukttMxhS6To6emZBCLLi6mZzIj-VROzHuNmu8tOk5WgB5ZhT9Q0uXz5l-I52DeS6TUnouIwGSw48voub5D1dEAJPH9FxQ8w3KQYY5EIaFw/s1600/2014-12-01+07.22.26.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first view that greets me in the morning on the way to the girls</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back to the house to feed Tom Dog, the princess will sleep in for another 30 minutes. He is eating and I make my coffee and empty the dishwasher. We sit on the veranda and enjoy the 'quiet' of the early morning. I say quiet, but what I really mean is the quiet of nature. Magpies with demanding offspring, Mudlarks, Ring Neck Parrots, Red Tail and Carneby Cockies, Galahs, ducks, Rosella's, Wattle Birds ... as my mum says, it sounds like a bird park!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Almost to the bottom of my coffee cup, and there is the short, sharp yap of her majesty. She is blind and old but certainly not quiet and easily forgotten. I carry her to breakfast, and while she eats, I make my bed and put on a load of washing. Its all about multitasking. She is finished her breaky so we head back out to the garden for her morning constitutional and my chance to potter about while I watch her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am enjoying the watering for now, seeing new seeds sprout, new leaves unfurl, flowers opening. The girls watch me for any sign I might have food, or even better I might open the gate and let them free. They get a few hours each evening, to minimise their enthusiastic harvesting of anything green.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is always a job to do, or a walk out to the paddocks, or up the drive. I can not think of a better way to start my day. Even sleeping in holds no appeal, not when there is so much to do, so much to smile about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By 8am, I am ready for the second cup of coffee, a bowl of muesli and a chance to read or write. I like the writing mornings, words and ideas hit me while I water, or potter, and I can't wait to get them down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If this is routine, then I am liking it very much.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSX_6g05onvpI-5DJBN0Dd7kxbmYjZTSWAsFDnrkwAZA0u2WtXW7VB0WmSaRlCPjvGj5tfnY1vCKypByIkevDYWMX19dxfxzL1M0MofnA14WekGAz_v9VkVsHw-wYtzsBe9-_WPIWGwQ/s1600/2014-11-25+08.02.08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSX_6g05onvpI-5DJBN0Dd7kxbmYjZTSWAsFDnrkwAZA0u2WtXW7VB0WmSaRlCPjvGj5tfnY1vCKypByIkevDYWMX19dxfxzL1M0MofnA14WekGAz_v9VkVsHw-wYtzsBe9-_WPIWGwQ/s1600/2014-11-25+08.02.08.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-51076967148626599592014-11-26T08:17:00.002+08:002014-11-26T08:17:54.119+08:00The Girls House<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyf3VHWFUpAxwycoFE6JrajvTadT97k9yLRRFC8DBf9GbEJGmarSeNLEgqn6pwMZyyHlFBUDJ0sH24rV33GcJkXRXeS2-YuxxvPh7o18hOluPWCWIyDPAQ-xP9g4KVPtEjMkMLYjQ_9U/s1600/20141112_123931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyf3VHWFUpAxwycoFE6JrajvTadT97k9yLRRFC8DBf9GbEJGmarSeNLEgqn6pwMZyyHlFBUDJ0sH24rV33GcJkXRXeS2-YuxxvPh7o18hOluPWCWIyDPAQ-xP9g4KVPtEjMkMLYjQ_9U/s1600/20141112_123931.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>'Jodie's Girls'</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The girls house was one of the first things we build before the move. We had to have a safe home for them to come to live in, and only the best for the divas would do. What started as an idea for a lean-to henhouse became a fully lined house fit for humans!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3eogs0GHMLUaDwgVA2B4lyvbIrFT_jyrfi6K2yh3eDtNC43DeLCNfSeR9wKHMqt2ZT833iRcGnC158R_pNIOtVt0SNJQOICYsxwlp8WFhHRqg7UpVH4iGrD1zyFM-asgM6GDTUlGiDE/s1600/20140821_095613.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="180" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Floor going in with Tom Dog supervising. Mr K is digging the post holes for the yard</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The foxes are pretty bad around here, neighbours on either side of us said they didn't keep chooks because of this. This worried me, but I figured we could build a substantial chook house that would thwart the smartest of foxes.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKZR2XOJ6KFNXbV1asWW-A1ys3eWudCEmNxvNWph2fBug-qBErGkWCGCEJaN8g76DgodDca02SPUdpHJL7Ymi3Cn3cb174gApnY2dooz-ShP01mf4KChIp4RZZyoFF1UYJiN0PCzCOos/s1600/20140821_155059.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="180" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The frame going up. Built from the old fence posts that we pulled out - solid, old jarrah</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKZR2XOJ6KFNXbV1asWW-A1ys3eWudCEmNxvNWph2fBug-qBErGkWCGCEJaN8g76DgodDca02SPUdpHJL7Ymi3Cn3cb174gApnY2dooz-ShP01mf4KChIp4RZZyoFF1UYJiN0PCzCOos/s1600/20140821_155059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dad and Mum came up to stay and this was to be our weekend project. Except it took a whole week, plus another few days to make the yard. Built up on stumps, it has a solid floor, jarrah stud frame, and clad in (brand new) weatherboard. The weatherboard extravagance was born from two needs - one was aesthetics, we can see the hen house from the house and all the outdoor sitting areas and two, this was the lining we were considering for the house extensions and we could have a trial run and see if we like it. I think we do!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnalvmJioYMiF_5KJYbpdP4oSlg45zoh7C2eX5saR2Zi9Zej7lKNC049rKlyk0CV4Aoydu5a8NFNBFCGU7Ny8aVUfeAFE_z4CqYqyDMZ3_zUKqUyfXs2emFnOLm0LMw2v-vbLrpFj6SVk/s1600/20140906_165348.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="180" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Weatherboard cladding and a half painted door</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The roof matches Mr K's shed, the doors were from a salvage yard and modified by Dad to have some ventilation. Its roomy and comfortable for some very spoilt hens.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGAdeVuBmyIujo0TBPOjG4WurufPwtCf6OZJh5O-f6os-Kgpi2ccqNfyTuVXsr-ypZsgwt77KsX3ANzQANDAE939gv8NWVrsqFxPGh2uiG9TpD8lDyLhgbN0x4GWN5l8TOYwJX2YefQ4/s1600/20140914_154423.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="180" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The potting shed was built at the same time to match, the little window is in the girls pen</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The yard is pine poles with two layers of wire. One had been dug down into the ground with a trench lined in wire too. Then a second layer of chook wire that goes up to the top of the poles. We have also put a wire roof over the yard to stop the crows and maggies getting in.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The yard ... we captured a little dog!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next installment, I will recount the turmoil of the girls moving house and having their country sisters come to live with them. All was not well in the hen house!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-17181175871585925032014-11-25T10:47:00.000+08:002014-11-25T10:47:21.018+08:00Bring it on ..<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bring it on ... the last words on the last post. Did I really challenge the universe with that?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjep9n7Fo86-JQlI9Fo_naCiYTpoF4S1pJBTBYgQ5Anml034fevIegknSRCc2ukQYd10qqHdD3o7A3Wzb5tXRUDtquf7JD9ren1I9dTOTWPhLYOLhgRG1lpEhryXcMeuKJPx7o926txCVA/s1600/20141125_080050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjep9n7Fo86-JQlI9Fo_naCiYTpoF4S1pJBTBYgQ5Anml034fevIegknSRCc2ukQYd10qqHdD3o7A3Wzb5tXRUDtquf7JD9ren1I9dTOTWPhLYOLhgRG1lpEhryXcMeuKJPx7o926txCVA/s1600/20141125_080050.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Swapped my office at Basso to a nook at WG ... so much nicer</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well I did, and I got what I asked for. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today is the first day in months that I feel I can lift my head and see the progress we have made. (as in we have been head down, bum up working for what seems like an eternity). Remember that move in date we had? 1st December if you forgot. Well it kinda got shunted forward by a month and I am typing this from the desk in the corner of my lounge room at WG. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yep. We are IN! I could just now say that the <i>Journey to Contentment</i> is over, we are living in our little bit of paradise and all will end happily ever after.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Except, we all know that life is not like that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is always more to the story. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The move began as a temporary measure when we had painters come to paint the granny flat and persuaded us to paint the rest of the house as well. Wow, as I write this I realise there are so many things that have happened which all need an explanation. Now that I have time and energy and a desk I can go back and write the posts that will explain all the happenings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, painters invading the house, the WG house is now empty of tenants and my folks had booked it as holiday accommodation for 10 days. We gatecrashed their party and wickedly put them to work helping us to move. Small price to pay for a free holiday! Not a full house move, just enough to live and be comfortable. The idea being that Basso house will be left mostly furnished so that it can be 'staged' to sell. We have the very great indulgence of no time limits other than those we self impose. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In a way its an annoying way to move house, in dribs and drabs, but I guess its not nearly as bad as trying to live in a house while its being painted. The other advantage of moving bit by bit is that it gives you a chance to find homes for all the stuff as you go. The logistics are that we are moving from a 5 bedroom 3 bathroom house to a 3 bedroom farm house. The name of this game is Decluttering. We go to Basso, fill up a car or a trailer with stuff and come home and locate homes for it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Being an old house, there are no built in robes or linen cupboards at all. We have purloined one whole bedroom (just as well we have no kids at home anymore) as a walkin robe. Wall to wall IKEA has created the ultimate in wardrobes. (When I walk in there I feel like some rich mans wife with a whole room to store her frocks!)</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6Itpw6UaCRrMoJrrJSse68SkxsaYzA-vvdondLt8CIcAgkZLidWsW2lR-4c1o1yhXd2KHm2mVcLYO9Vw5yX5NoH262_PmrEq2su2HsrF9L2R36us41aNuRK48142vcNsSMiolEUXqOY/s1600/20141112_123821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6Itpw6UaCRrMoJrrJSse68SkxsaYzA-vvdondLt8CIcAgkZLidWsW2lR-4c1o1yhXd2KHm2mVcLYO9Vw5yX5NoH262_PmrEq2su2HsrF9L2R36us41aNuRK48142vcNsSMiolEUXqOY/s1600/20141112_123821.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My girls in their new home ... happy hens</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The chooks have moved in, the doggies have their beds, I call this place home now. It still makes me smile during little moments - looking out to the trees as the sun comes up, watching the ducks and their ducklings on the stream, the kookaburra's that come at dusk and laugh hysterically, cleaning the beautiful jarrah floor - even pegging clothes on the line makes me smile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is still a journey, I guess life is like that. Contentment is still not 100% but it is certainly closer than it was last week. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So yep, Bring. It. On.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJLC933hraQfDK5Mm-erYIkYQ_f3M8B06hh7ge-8IlLVkQqY2nVHCh2RrriQ_w0D-Yhj3KeYh65j5TN7kvHwHYZf24uhjE4uGcnjEedWTP1UMUcvpq3hh3f0RdqGJ8ExsuJKH178T3Ro/s1600/20141125_080241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJLC933hraQfDK5Mm-erYIkYQ_f3M8B06hh7ge-8IlLVkQqY2nVHCh2RrriQ_w0D-Yhj3KeYh65j5TN7kvHwHYZf24uhjE4uGcnjEedWTP1UMUcvpq3hh3f0RdqGJ8ExsuJKH178T3Ro/s1600/20141125_080241.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Minty has found her contented spot.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-35644060497501767992014-07-26T17:04:00.000+08:002014-07-28T17:04:39.657+08:00Lost sight of the point of the this blog.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4ZairoGSC8PZQWO2xAVqDk136KHWSIYajqbFlolDxDB4n4eMDHi0qlCNGfK4eX6JefvYbwY7QPBKGLx8ogO_cpsNba0nCYMbLvRJmpRtHrmMzndZjXFdTgdM5W58uL5QOozLQp1L32E/s1600/20140614_172710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4ZairoGSC8PZQWO2xAVqDk136KHWSIYajqbFlolDxDB4n4eMDHi0qlCNGfK4eX6JefvYbwY7QPBKGLx8ogO_cpsNba0nCYMbLvRJmpRtHrmMzndZjXFdTgdM5W58uL5QOozLQp1L32E/s1600/20140614_172710.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I started this blog in April 2010, it was because a few desires needed to be filled. One was the (seemingly) unbearable frustration and heartbreak at not being able to live the life I craved and needed to. Time has shown me that I did bear it, and dreams can come true ... as clichéd as that sounds. So I thought that writing about my journey to this contentment would help me, and maybe, hopefully, help others in a similar situation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The second reason was because I could not find anything to read about other peoples journeys into the tree change. I found only two books written in Australia on the subject, and both had very peculiar bents (peak oil and living for a year with no money). Both interesting books, but not relating to whet we were doing. Still not able to find any books on the subject.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The third reason was to share my suburban life with my family and show them in words and pictures the dream unfolding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I did achieve all these objectives in the beginning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What I didn't expect was the journey to take so long and take such a toll on my health and mental wellbeing. Its hard to keep the enthusiasm going - the rollercoaster has taken me on more ups and downs than I care to recount. We bought the property on 10th March 2010. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We finally have a move in date. Set. In. Stone. 1 December 2014. Almost 5 years later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">However, the journey is not almost over, oh no. This has just been the first phase. The fun part is about to begin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">There are sheds to build, extensions to the house, refurbishment of the pool and surrounding area, a chook pen and yard to build, a potager garden, water tanks to install, an orchard to rejuvenate and enlarge, a carport and driveway to put in, gardens to establish, stables to paint, a workshop to be built. And many, many more projects. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Bring it on.</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-3898859739180416132014-05-11T12:12:00.000+08:002014-07-28T12:41:14.837+08:00The weekend that was.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I_iaxfrY7N-J6e6GvwXT4mi66k9e-zKAL3sz6eXn_0WYoaThJJzgqOnsD0NlMRcz8G4MLkjl0Bkv8EmxIvsr-tKWkuFL8bQpXQrMR9oZGC6rUjZyv9KYy2KWP848yosbFmugxiRjV7s/s1600/20140705_103200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I_iaxfrY7N-J6e6GvwXT4mi66k9e-zKAL3sz6eXn_0WYoaThJJzgqOnsD0NlMRcz8G4MLkjl0Bkv8EmxIvsr-tKWkuFL8bQpXQrMR9oZGC6rUjZyv9KYy2KWP848yosbFmugxiRjV7s/s1600/20140705_103200.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today, I get to work from home. Its just as well as uni starts again in two weeks and I really need to get prepared and back into a study routine. This next unit is one I am really excited about - The Making of Australia - at Macquarie Uni. It's a history unit, my other passion, a nice juxtaposition.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have missed my little home office. Its been months since I had the bliss of being able to work from home. When I say 'work' I mean sitting at my desk, ready and able to answer phones and emails but in reality I am writing, or doing uni work. Its a great indulgence which I relish and have missed. I have started to daydream about what my new office will look like ... hmmm might have to start a Pinterest board ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The book has taken a seat at the very back of the bus at this present time, although I still collect snippets of information and ideas as I see them. And I guess the events of late have been adding fodder to the story. Dealing with a ageing person who needs to be cared for, physically working on the land, trying to juggle - life, not balls.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This last weekend was a <u>pearler</u>! (This word just cost me 30 minutes and $45 - I had to check if the spelling was correct for an Aussie colloquialism, only to find that it was not recorded as such in my normal dictionary. I found it on the Macquarie Dictionary, but had to get a full subscription to get details - which I didn't mind as it was a online dictionary that I needed anyway.) Now you can see how time just erodes away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Saturday - we wandered out to WG to meet potential new neighbours (see post) and to start getting ready for the bonfire night. A staff member wanted to bring his brother and their sons to have a 'boy' day and let city kids run about and be allowed to be boys. They had the best time - moving a huge pile of branches to make a bonfire, playing in the stream without a mother in sight, lighting fires, using a blower vac to make the fire rage, riding on the mini digger and getting to make the bucket move, riding in the back of the Ute, playing with the dog, drinking coke and eating chips and Timtams for lunch. When they left, they thanked us profusely - they thanked US - for letting them move a pile of tree branches and stumps that would have taken Mr K and I, all day to move. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mr K and I reckon we are onto something here - get city parents to PAY us to bring their kids for a fun day out doing work and a taste of the 'old days' when kids had to earn their keep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sunday - Son#2 turned 25 today. We let him sleep in for a little while, then I woke him with his very own apple pie straight from the oven. Its become a family tradition and despite it also being Mothers Day, I didn't mind doing it - a day in my kitchen is a day of bliss for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Midmorning - Back out to WG as we were meeting with the architect plus to mow the lawns and tidy up for next weekend. Any excuse to just be there suits me, even washing the dishes is a treat. The kitchen sink looks out over my white fences and green paddocks. The stream is running, the grass is greening up, the cockys being galahs, the dogs in doggy heaven - its a wrench to leave each night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Soon ...</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-67151631522886302932014-05-05T09:02:00.001+08:002014-05-05T09:02:54.167+08:00Planning that gets stuck at the Planning Department<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My last post was about the thrill of planning, this one is about the pain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bureaucracy is the bottle neck to all progress. I understand why we have to have it, but this understanding does not alleviate the annoyance. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcM0VO02G-K6WcFeozdMVH6L8bqio9Drdxh9TrXGyaOU7f8C0tdwF7LlxfvwXDMmITh7MYUSZcBiZE2gtw9XOHScZQuiqxy889g6H2FTgXiIIhRw6WqvFKp4RtAudUu3zLZo0CrNiPiw/s1600/3k.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcM0VO02G-K6WcFeozdMVH6L8bqio9Drdxh9TrXGyaOU7f8C0tdwF7LlxfvwXDMmITh7MYUSZcBiZE2gtw9XOHScZQuiqxy889g6H2FTgXiIIhRw6WqvFKp4RtAudUu3zLZo0CrNiPiw/s1600/3k.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wonder if this shed got planning?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There we were, Mr K and I, all excited and full of wild ideas and verbalising our imaginations when Big Brother, aka Government in all its forms, Local, State, Federal, stepped in to be the spoilsport parent. Apparently, you have to get permission to even think about building, let alone the doing part.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I do agree and get the whole planning permission thing. I know it's for my safety that the construction is safe and engineered, but to take 3 months just to approve a shed is beyond my comprehension. A prefabricated machinery shed, one that is put together by professional shed builders, on a concrete slab, on rural land, takes 3+ months to get permission to erect. I bet the old boys who built pole and corrugated iron sheds that still stand 150 years later would roll in their graves if they heard this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But, we are no exception, so we must comply with the law. Plans have to be submitted to the Shire, the fee paid and the waiting done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We want to build a good sized shed that will house all the <strike>toys</strike> machinery Mr K is accumulating, as well as a dry, lockable place to store building materials when the time comes to build the extension. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjtChfj7Sa39G7HGdPAQLH3qrJLahmMGcSlNlQn59evgsNnLns0kYJN4H-cY_yae-3m8xiDg6r1baGPxqpj7tjj8WylDvW2V2qPwzw3jzxZL9poUmTt1MOTJdATkqy8TCCltutxeGfFc/s1600/suburban-garage-range-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjtChfj7Sa39G7HGdPAQLH3qrJLahmMGcSlNlQn59evgsNnLns0kYJN4H-cY_yae-3m8xiDg6r1baGPxqpj7tjj8WylDvW2V2qPwzw3jzxZL9poUmTt1MOTJdATkqy8TCCltutxeGfFc/s1600/suburban-garage-range-2.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kind of the shed we want ... except it will have 3 roller doors, and will be off white</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It will be constructed right next to my dressage arena, so it needs to look nice and match my lovely white (well once white, now ever so slightly bore stained yellow) fences. I have a red geranium that I saved a cutting from a horse property I admired a few years back that will be the icing on the cake for this area.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYca5Ikc-23YGoRjFMWBtYMonx7PWOYUSNQ7PUDSDK3jQrQgTPSPxp4m05oAM8trrGAY_Ormb9PH94bR7TRoPm8gSieIzTkRD3cmow_gCMVeWUIqQUyTr-sGJ5uCV_6m7iteKlTdeeSZg/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYca5Ikc-23YGoRjFMWBtYMonx7PWOYUSNQ7PUDSDK3jQrQgTPSPxp4m05oAM8trrGAY_Ormb9PH94bR7TRoPm8gSieIzTkRD3cmow_gCMVeWUIqQUyTr-sGJ5uCV_6m7iteKlTdeeSZg/s1600/download.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In an ideal world my dressage arena would have these as markers!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The dreaming hasn't stopped while we wait for the shed permission. Last weekend we were out there with my folks and Mr K's dad, overflow accommodation for the country people up in the city for my sons engagement. It was wonderful to share with the special people in our lives, our enthusiasm and dreams for this property. Even more wonderful that they share our belief that this is truly a magical place and they all love to stoke fires!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlr-yFg1sazruoe-8dxeC0P9XGtIg3oDZXF2nArjZmfeVQ8sP9ukGqJ86Ca7L_LqJaS3rBCrFPeHHRq_Gpblaq3sh7j5m93qcFUvie-eKZgbfNfh-H94yWisz-3LpCzXdw8amzbxpoh4k/s1600/safe_image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlr-yFg1sazruoe-8dxeC0P9XGtIg3oDZXF2nArjZmfeVQ8sP9ukGqJ86Ca7L_LqJaS3rBCrFPeHHRq_Gpblaq3sh7j5m93qcFUvie-eKZgbfNfh-H94yWisz-3LpCzXdw8amzbxpoh4k/s1600/safe_image.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The stump burning fire ... the fire you have when you haven't got permission from the shire to have a fire. We had this stump in the middle of the driveway that had to go, officer.</span></td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-50530837014234245542014-04-16T07:56:00.004+08:002014-04-16T07:56:48.544+08:00Again, with the planning.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Planning is always at the heart of every great endeavor. I love this stage. It's exciting and thrilling and all possibilities are open and without constraints. Your imagination is the only limitation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So it sounds a bit contradictory to list and organise every tiny detail into a closed schedule, that would seemingly impose constraints.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But just because you plan, does not mean you can't be creative and think big.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even an artist plans.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcrc9x-Ossoj-L2J0wsPu9dXpCUzkl0tHJCnk6afQ8IhiTph_FjH2BA6I8mQV7d4CmgYH6SZ3wv_6Is2wvPphKtx6jmlXf9DJC5UXi2HzyIrz04lZmj_8CPCTUog3HHTsapBwbYhMsOE/s1600/download+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcrc9x-Ossoj-L2J0wsPu9dXpCUzkl0tHJCnk6afQ8IhiTph_FjH2BA6I8mQV7d4CmgYH6SZ3wv_6Is2wvPphKtx6jmlXf9DJC5UXi2HzyIrz04lZmj_8CPCTUog3HHTsapBwbYhMsOE/s1600/download+(1).jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Planning is how I cope with the stress that will inevitably come with such a large project. Planning is the thing that gives you a long list of delicious check-boxes to tick.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, what am I planning you ask?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two weeks ago, I would have replied that I was planning our move to live at WG. Planning to pack up the current house, get it ready to rent out, find a good agent and then tenants. I would say I was planning how we will fit all the furniture in the new house, how we will manage the dogs, chooks, cars, gardens at WG. How to resettle Mr K's mum and pack all her things and store them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today, I have all this to plan and one tiny detail more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The 'one day' extensions to WG house, the ones we thought we would wait until we had lived there a few years and get a feel for the house and how we live in it, have just suddenly and surprisingly time traveled back in a giant leap into the present.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How did this all happen? It started innocently enough. Mr K had some reservations about the move to WG, not that he didn't want it to happen, but rather he needed a few 'essentials' done before it seemed to him that we were moving forward instead of backward. The house at WG is pretty basic. It's a three bedroom, 1960's farmhouse. It has been very nicely done up in places, like polished jarrah floorboards, and lovely wooden window and door frames. However, other things are just very basic, like the shower is just a painted cubicle, the bedrooms are pretty tiny, there are no WIR at all and one basic linen cupboard. All things I can merrily live with, but Mr K is giving up a very big and suburban house to go-a-farming with me.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsz1uEGVeKBEGV4J-8aRPOIIm9VpCjann3x2odCUkcQrFuMC9m81fBHJIeFw1s8dQ7C9XIjCvUtFoBX8Q7DdGZNOlRcvLcwHF6Q1_qGub5TJCsahJSlu_J0-0u2opAuNwqUKsf9DVnOLQ/s1600/Kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsz1uEGVeKBEGV4J-8aRPOIIm9VpCjann3x2odCUkcQrFuMC9m81fBHJIeFw1s8dQ7C9XIjCvUtFoBX8Q7DdGZNOlRcvLcwHF6Q1_qGub5TJCsahJSlu_J0-0u2opAuNwqUKsf9DVnOLQ/s1600/Kitchen.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The kitchen was renovated 10 years ago, and will be ok as it is, for a while anyway</span>!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All of which was fine, he was happy to move, until it came to his Precious. A pot-holed, gravel driveway and no carport or garage is no way to treat a pedigree Jaguar. To have her constantly covered in red dirt and live outside in the elements is too much to bear for this highly bred beast. Mr K said the compromise was to bitumise the driveway and build a carport, both things I was in agreeance with as I secretly didn't like the idea of my lovely new white car getting the same treatment.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPI66tys5rwZtBeESmd_bYLGVpCjUfpbjWoMyrVQRxzdV5btH4V5YWdVrFYz50SU-1mc_zjvADUEsVZpnZ6gQE9WBSBQqmIMv_h67qmH3MosHhymbY6wQbUntZ9386pynlmoAsWGRrfg/s1600/WG+28+April+2012+038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPI66tys5rwZtBeESmd_bYLGVpCjUfpbjWoMyrVQRxzdV5btH4V5YWdVrFYz50SU-1mc_zjvADUEsVZpnZ6gQE9WBSBQqmIMv_h67qmH3MosHhymbY6wQbUntZ9386pynlmoAsWGRrfg/s1600/WG+28+April+2012+038.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The gravel driveway and nowhere to house a pedigree.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The problem was, where to build the carport so that it fitted in with future plans for extensions. Also, where to stop the driveway so that it didn't have to be dug up at a later time when we had finalised the plans. Solution? Get an architect to draw up some concept plans for an extension now, so we know exactly where the carport and driveway will go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So that's what we did. Which if course was where the whole train derailed and ran away with us. Mr K and I have always had in our hearts and minds a 'one day' ideal house. We agree almost 99% of what this looks like. And WG was blossoming as a building site to build this dream home. It had all the elements. So when Mr Architect arrived to view the location, and his face lit up and he started getting all animated and sketching things on his pad ... well we too let go of all constraints and got excited, silently both making the decision to plan and build now, not two years from now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We justified it to each other on the way home. It will be much better to build now than to be living on a building site. It will be cheaper to do all the land clearing at once, so while we need to do groundwork for a carport, we may as well do it for the building site. We need to match the building materials for the carport and the extensions. If we are borrowing to do the driveway and carport, we may as well borrow it all in one lump sum for the building too (we really were making excuses now).</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmp9ZIPhqB5UkoIRv4rY5TSHngmGxGr5kgW-R8qYItso0RyplnHzA9GIvs2Lz9LLfZHcstqOCQGtl8uWFGe5bJiJ_7a-qGmSAM0UgJr9z3JCP-mntMr_4YZX8hGaguohIowsIxVukairg/s1600/Bedroom1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmp9ZIPhqB5UkoIRv4rY5TSHngmGxGr5kgW-R8qYItso0RyplnHzA9GIvs2Lz9LLfZHcstqOCQGtl8uWFGe5bJiJ_7a-qGmSAM0UgJr9z3JCP-mntMr_4YZX8hGaguohIowsIxVukairg/s1600/Bedroom1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main bedroom. Love the floors and light, but no cupboards at all.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By the time we got home, we had convinced each other that this was a no-brainer and we were now in fact going to build the new extensions now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jodie, get out your notebook and start making lists. We have planning to do!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-53496444310993878022014-04-14T10:49:00.002+08:002014-04-14T11:23:22.240+08:00Good Things come to those who wait ... and wait ... and wait ...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The title of this blog is <i>Journey to Contentment</i>. It started in April 2010, the same year that we bought our dream property. It was New Years Day 2010 that Mr K and I first saw it. We had been looking for a property just like it for years and we both knew we would know it when we saw it. Many a weekend was spent with a weekend real estate paper and long drives and animated plans. We traveled from Toodyay to Wandering and everywhere in between, finding little gems and letting our imaginations run wild. We came close a few times, but each opportunity had more minus's than plus's.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZZJ_2FQ6jfTjYFZQlnxLXT5i3X81K0mrKDpjx1A-6xr1jljqEvmNHqFeNHbJOK6SWY49DvXkBGSZ6ioXnpb4wVIMR3G-d9a3NCMtxShyJcr7ZcLOcSKAfYVT-CFkfjp1j474s4mwZrI/s1600/WG+Real+Estate+Ad+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZZJ_2FQ6jfTjYFZQlnxLXT5i3X81K0mrKDpjx1A-6xr1jljqEvmNHqFeNHbJOK6SWY49DvXkBGSZ6ioXnpb4wVIMR3G-d9a3NCMtxShyJcr7ZcLOcSKAfYVT-CFkfjp1j474s4mwZrI/s1600/WG+Real+Estate+Ad+2010.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Real Estate Agents picture - this is what we saw that special day.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On our way to a friends for a New Years Day BBQ 2010, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">we took a detour to just 'check out the area'.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We both saw this house, set right back on a few acres of grass, a farmhouse nestled in trees with wide verandas and everything we both always loved. As we drove along the road frontage we excitedly said to each other that this was exactly the type of house we wanted. At the very edge of the land, near the driveway I saw this sign </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">out of the corner of my eye</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Stop" I yelled ... It said 'For Sale'.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We discounted it. Sadly but resignedly, this area was WAY out of our price range. On the way to our friends, we dreamed and let our imaginations run wild that one day we would buy some land and build that type of house on it. We felt happy to have just seen a perfect example of what we could achieve one day. It was great Mr K and I felt the same way and had the same vision. This was enough. Of course, this didn't stop me having a little fantasy, somehow finding the money and imagining myself living there. Fantasy is what I lived on.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSumc_ULc83ExJOVyNmdZsFMDRuei_f1rNEkQzOsNzq4w1dxOA4L0ly-BMKwU_sQj1Hffj9aXuxsfQ7rXXnEcitdujXebk_1SD7MpEFWYmAOsFqt3AdZL-VH6IWKoKc2OmGrmZSTt-EzA/s1600/iStock_000015123778_ExtraSmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSumc_ULc83ExJOVyNmdZsFMDRuei_f1rNEkQzOsNzq4w1dxOA4L0ly-BMKwU_sQj1Hffj9aXuxsfQ7rXXnEcitdujXebk_1SD7MpEFWYmAOsFqt3AdZL-VH6IWKoKc2OmGrmZSTt-EzA/s1600/iStock_000015123778_ExtraSmall.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Closest picture I can find that represents what was in my head. Even this doesn't compare to my special place now!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the BBQ, Mr K and I were still enamored by the vision, so of course we mentioned it to our hosts, one of which was in real estate. She said, why don't you phone up the agents and see what they are asking for it. My stomach turned over at this comment - excitement that we would ever entertain this step and dread that my fantasy would be extinguished by confirmation this was out of our league. Its the same reasoning I give when I have lotto tickets which I never check - I don't want to confirm the end of the fantasy by finding out for sure its not a winner.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But we did make that phone call, and I watched Mr K's face closely for a clue. He had his poker face on, so when he got off the phone and gave a listing price that was a lot less than I had ever hoped, I was like a eight year old just told I was going to the Royal Show with $5 pocket money! Our real estate host friend, in true fashion, then fueled and facilitated the fantasy and t</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">he rest of this story has a happy ending which I have written about before. It was also the birth of this blog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Links to a smattering of Wattle Grove posts :</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-little-things.html" target="_blank">Its the Little Things</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com/2012/06/my-place.html" target="_blank">My Place</a></span></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/12/dear-santa-i-wanna-poneeee-for-christmas.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Santa, I Wanna Poneeee for christmas</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/10/150-posts.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">150 Posts</span></a></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/today-was-first-time-in-ages-that-i.html" target="_blank">Today was first time in ages</a></span></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/mop-up-day.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mop Up Day</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/making-yard-and-tool-shed-door.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Building Stable Yards and Doors</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/demolition-day.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Demolition Day</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/planning-day.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Planning Day</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/farm-day.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Farm Day</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/05/bonfire-night.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bonfire Night</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012_04_01_archive.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Aww Gawd, is it Monday already?</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/wg-progress-so-far-and-still-to-do.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Progress so far</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/being-kind-comes-back-to-you.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Being kind comes back to you</span></a></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/have-special-visiter-today.html" target="_blank">We have a special visitor today</a></span></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/where-we-are-at-now.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Where we are at now</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/wow-what-week.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wow! What Week</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/so-hows-journey-so-far.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So how's the Journey so far?</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/poached-egg-for-breakfast.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Poached egg for breakfast</span></a></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I can say that the waiting, at least, has an end date! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That strange marker of all things new, Christmas* 2014, is the date we have given ourselves to have moved in by. This property has a special place, a little magic corner that everyone who goes there says the same thing ... "this would be a great place to have long, leisurely lunches."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Time for plans. And where better to share them than this blog and all the wonderful readers who have shared this journey.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD6k7aYWx_n63DZVeFjBUx2jiP0LEe9LpDuTwZCPyPiqmGdiDOQz2ulJjsRxaDktqSUNlwPljFlyNgWUb7nLZb0j6U9pbKttKDbHtH33nFCDTEM2Jg2-fwdx4ymZmWB0zumFnuNT7hos/s1600/WG+Day+3+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD6k7aYWx_n63DZVeFjBUx2jiP0LEe9LpDuTwZCPyPiqmGdiDOQz2ulJjsRxaDktqSUNlwPljFlyNgWUb7nLZb0j6U9pbKttKDbHtH33nFCDTEM2Jg2-fwdx4ymZmWB0zumFnuNT7hos/s1600/WG+Day+3+011.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mr K and my Dad having 'lunch' by the stream after a hard days work on the stables.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">* </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">strange for an atheist</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> like me</span></i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-30044278241417316292014-02-26T09:38:00.000+08:002014-02-26T09:38:14.114+08:00Talking about My Car .... My Car!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-RcB5k1Ssu55-OMwsKVYVutqyk16u18AuvL2WSVCX2-rEyuOQ0H4Tq56tzFhGJrvPNQvtZXPASWaZR3nvJHDUMghn1p1ke27uG3mHBMsZqshQhpsmGCka2NenH7Ft1XmjxWqwQC_48s/s1600/Dualis_01-600x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-RcB5k1Ssu55-OMwsKVYVutqyk16u18AuvL2WSVCX2-rEyuOQ0H4Tq56tzFhGJrvPNQvtZXPASWaZR3nvJHDUMghn1p1ke27uG3mHBMsZqshQhpsmGCka2NenH7Ft1XmjxWqwQC_48s/s1600/Dualis_01-600x400.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The one I fell for (well not this one exactly, but a carbon copy) ... Nissan Dualis</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sitting in the waiting room of the Nissan dealership waiting for my new car to have her first service. Have I told you lately that I love her? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just yesterday, I had to go do the shopping and it was so easy to park and I had a spring in my step because I had independence and freedom and my own freaking car! These little moments keep cropping up and I go wow, I have MY own car! </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And this sounds like I have been some little mousy downtrodden 'kept' wife who has been held in her place by not being allowed to have her own car. It's not like that at all. It was just circumstance that led to this situation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First we had the work cars. 3 little Micras at our beck and call to take home whenever we wanted. I could jump in one and go do errands or visit Ikea. (little constricting to go to Ikea in a Micra - I mean how do I fit in a new bookcase, doona cover, 5 packs of paper napkins, a cutlery drawer organiser, three pots and matching plants, a set of coasters ... none of which I wanted or needed until I arrived in the great hall!.) But as the business got busier and the techs needed their cars, (how rude) I found that my opportunities to escape with a Micra were less and less and then I would get a phone call to ask me how long was going to be? Huh? You cant predict that in Ikea. It takes as long as it takes people!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then was the time I was at the hairdressers, a place I find stressful at the best of times, and I was practicing my Zen pose whilst making small talk with an Irish hairdresser I could not understand, when I had no less than 4 calls and just as many text messages asking how long was I going to be! That was it. Something needed to change.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I could have taken the 'ute' - our Nissan (see a pattern here?) Navara Dualcab ute to Ikea or the hairdressers. Sure I could have fitted an extra 2 seater sofa, matching coffee tables, a shelving system, doona <u>and</u> pillows to go with the cover, but at a cost of my euphoric feeling after having tried to park a huge boys ute with bullbar and winch on the front and treg hitch on the back. Not to mention putting nice things in the tray that last week had gravel and mulch and a bale of hay. And certainly not mentioning the smell of border collie in the front, or the black and white hairs flying all over the place. And how could I possibly get, all dainty like and coiffed hair, into a ute!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yes, I hear you asking, Mr K does have a car and I can use that ... but I value my marriage and my sanity. Backing out <a href="http://kirsa-journey.blogspot.com/2013/08/a-big-growly-grey-cat.html" target="_blank">Mr K's Jag</a> from our very narrow, long, awkward driveway is just the start of the anxiety. Once you get on the road, there are other nut cases dong stupid things near his precious Jag. Then you get to the shops and drive right down the very back of the parking area so you can get a nice vacant space that is not next to some old clanger whose owner doesn't give a toss about banging the doors. But then you also panic cause now you have parked so far away from any other people and surveillance and some tosser might run their keys down the car and .... no, no, not on my watch. I would rather not be responsible for one little mark on the Jag thanks very much. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So that left me carless (as opposed to careless). Well I did get offers from the MIL to take her car. Which was lovely of her but it was so OLD. Not the car, no that's a couple of years old Nissan Tiida. No, its an old ladies car INSIDE. It has a funny beaded seat cover, old shopping bags, a walking stick, and a walker in the back. A straw hat, and then you turn it on and the radio has some stuffy FM on. I felt like I was 100 years old when I drove it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, that left me really, really carless! Opportunity arose when the last payment of then</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> N</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">avara came up and I could salary sacrifice my own car. So what did I choose? A Jag? ha-ha. Get real. Not enough Xanax in the world for that. Nope it had to be a Nissan of course. Mr K had seen this new car called a Juke. Looked pretty funky in the brochures and online. So we went for a look. Yes it did look funky but way too over the top for me. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-le09bjr2FD1zvzsk5x90zd82SsjgoYw8rcP4jwIaWLfmDrC3QIVf6jXsBbtxZ5KaHfVg9NhO39Gx9eyOgbomqbmHQW0mFwKOJGwXsRdol-StgzmyQmcg7jpmh2U_TuVWTDWz3ykhE0/s1600/NissanJuke_04_600-600x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-le09bjr2FD1zvzsk5x90zd82SsjgoYw8rcP4jwIaWLfmDrC3QIVf6jXsBbtxZ5KaHfVg9NhO39Gx9eyOgbomqbmHQW0mFwKOJGwXsRdol-StgzmyQmcg7jpmh2U_TuVWTDWz3ykhE0/s1600/NissanJuke_04_600-600x400.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm too sexy for this car .... the Nissan Juke</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I went and tried every car in he lot, the Xtrail, Pulser, Juke, and finally a Dualis. I had discounted the Dualis as the first models looked so mundane and 'soccer mummsy'. But there was this pimped up one, the sports TI with mag wheels and spoiler and leather seats and moon roof and white pearl paint and little rails on the roof. That was it. I fell for her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which brings me to now. Here I sit, waiting for her to have her bits checked and okayed and we can be reunited. They wouldn't let me in the workshop to hold her steering wheel. I may have embarrassed myself by sobbing a little.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-66001425835454967772014-02-17T09:01:00.001+08:002014-02-18T09:04:16.305+08:00Monday ... should rename it to get-yourself-organised-day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mBQH_iiLSOQAaKe0f2wMS6K4EohPnS0BByNgqLKf9nCQsgmljjkXWxy_l1AWwBulCaRU_5ama6DNs9yry2obfQ5Hr9cI1rLgidZF6IgBa5Q6lpSQANi_gafuyI1xRn2eX5NAoOM6_zE/s1600/Clocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mBQH_iiLSOQAaKe0f2wMS6K4EohPnS0BByNgqLKf9nCQsgmljjkXWxy_l1AWwBulCaRU_5ama6DNs9yry2obfQ5Hr9cI1rLgidZF6IgBa5Q6lpSQANi_gafuyI1xRn2eX5NAoOM6_zE/s1600/Clocks.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why is it that Mondays always are the days we give ourselves the good talking to? The day we start a diet. The day we will set the alarm early and get up and go for a brisk walk. The day we will make a healthy lunch at home to take to work. The day we get ready for work peacefully instead of a hideous rush and leave the house with wet hair and un-ironed shirt (it looks OK, doesn't it? I just wont take my jacket off). The day we plan with our partner to have a date night this week. The day we eat Bircher muesli and fresh blueberries for breakfast.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVZFlTYNb5qATpyinzEtC-OKzi4N8WvoDskyLoi12Lr_vsGe2azIB-4RJ54jNsf34sYoqX6YbHnsu64KrNN4GeiW28muWAd-vj34npKowFMs9y4BYWFUluzx1QjR7l0M-455ck8qzK8I/s1600/Bircher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVZFlTYNb5qATpyinzEtC-OKzi4N8WvoDskyLoi12Lr_vsGe2azIB-4RJ54jNsf34sYoqX6YbHnsu64KrNN4GeiW28muWAd-vj34npKowFMs9y4BYWFUluzx1QjR7l0M-455ck8qzK8I/s1600/Bircher.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By Tuesday we have fallen back into old habits, we tell ourselves that this week isn't a great week to be starting new routines. We have a meeting with the boss, a visit to the dentist, the car needs a service and besides it's so bloody hot. Next week I will start. I promise. I will even go buy a new diary today and write myself a proper schedule.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's like a mini New Year resolution every week. The feeling of being in control on a Monday wanes away as Friday approaches and we collapse in a guilt-fueled, I-give-up Saturday. Sunday night, what I always call <i>Hair Washing Night</i> - as that's when my mother would wash our hair and make sure all our school uniforms were washed and ready and we were made to pack our school bags (often having to unpack the fish paste sandwich left there Friday) - is when we take stock of the less than satisfactory week and give ourselves a talking to, that starting Monday, things are going to change around here. (Can you hear my mother's voice here? I can!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So what happens? Why this roller-coaster? Is it just me, or (I hope) do we all do this? We must do. I just read an article in The Australian that talks about our 5:2 lives. How we live for five days of work that leave us depleted and emptied, and try and fit another life, our social and personal life, into the two days left in the week. I see the problem as having higher and higher expectations. We don't just have friends over for dinner, we have friends over for a dinner designed by Delicious Magazine, in a house that Grand Designs inspired, with a walk around the garden modeled after Monty Don's French Gardens. Impossible standards, unless you have a maid and a chef and a gardener. And that's just a part of the weekend - there is the washing, cleaning, shopping, lawn mowing, pool cleaning, kids sports, car washing, dog washing, blower vac-ing .... and on and on it goes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(<a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/world/binge-crash-welcome-to-the-52-lifestyle/story-fnb64oi6-1226828631233" target="_blank">Binge, crash: Welcome to the 5:2 lifestyle</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/world/binge-crash-welcome-to-the-52-lifestyle/story-fnb64oi6-1226828631233" target="_blank">SHANE WATSON THE AUSTRALIAN FEBRUARY 17, 2014 12:00AM</a>)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, never one to admit failure, I keep trying to get it 'right.'</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I set my alarm this morning. I had written a plan (this was after an inspirational writing course this last weekend) to rise at 6am. Do my chores and be sitting at my desk, coffee in hand, open page and spend the next hour writing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At 6:01am I turned off the alarm, mumbled to the dog, "I'll do it tomorrow" and went back to sleep. In my wisdom (I know myself well) I had set another alarm at 6:30am. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6:32am - I found my phone stuffed under 3 pillows, and turned that alarm off too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At what point do we give up completely and just get on with life?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzasI8IzAdzM4Mmo0vWyGl_3d1DjlmKUnTSaoF8ZhN6bU6_7gaLBUQglYQr8HNK1YDDq7ZKXtJCbVqcchlXhwQLJcOwBAti_XQhu9nKlxcwB2BhDqqwY5jbuKb0U8S3CbIaZpafFYkNYs/s1600/MOnday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzasI8IzAdzM4Mmo0vWyGl_3d1DjlmKUnTSaoF8ZhN6bU6_7gaLBUQglYQr8HNK1YDDq7ZKXtJCbVqcchlXhwQLJcOwBAti_XQhu9nKlxcwB2BhDqqwY5jbuKb0U8S3CbIaZpafFYkNYs/s1600/MOnday.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Disclaimer - I apologise that my blog posts might sound odd and jaggered. I have spent the last few months (in blog exile) writing academic essays. I feel the need to reference everything and write a bibliography. Hopefully I will loosen up a bit as I write more!</i></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525958236511993615.post-14615498049661460082014-02-13T17:58:00.003+08:002014-02-13T17:58:37.771+08:00Oh Yay!!! I got my blog back.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It got hacked. Some nasty little Malware got into my blog and it has been shut down for the last 5 months! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was so scared I had lost you all, and lost me with it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I now have protection ... should not be catching any nasties anymore!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I got so much to tell you all ... go get a bucket of coffee and a whole box of Tim Tams ..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">:-) I am just a little bit happy (well a lot happy)</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03558316545786314927noreply@blogger.com4