Its like England today

I am looking out my office window and the silver birch are naked - grey and white and naked.  The sky is grey, the day has that feel of English weather.  I love it.  It's cool, not cold.  It takes me back to my holiday in England - to walks in little villages, to long talks with mum and dad, to wonder at the beauty and the history. 

Yes, today I feel at home.

The Story of the Cuckoo Clock

This is my cuckoo clock.  Its probably one of my favorite things in the whole house.  But its also one of the things that makes me very sad - so its a very bittersweet thing indeed.

This particular clock, I purchased in Lucerne - when I say I purchased it, what I really mean is that I chose it and my ever wonderful parents paid for it.  It was in 2008 whilst on a European holiday with my mum and dad (which they also paid for ... yes, I am exceptionally spoilt!)  I had planned on this purchase, and although the Cuckoo Clock is traditionally German, I had to buy this in Switzerland for a very good reason.  I had it boxed up and sent home to Australia, except for the two weights, they would have cost a fortune to post, so poor Dad had to carry them in his hand luggage!

The design is an exact replica of a clock my Grandparents had, and this is where the sad story comes into play.  When I was a little girl, I loved my Grandads cuckoo clock.  I recall vividly, asking Grandad to make the little bird come out of its hole and 'cuckoo, cuckoo'.  I never tired of it (like I am sure Granddad did) and he patiently wound the clock hands around to make the little bird pop out.  It's one of the only interactions I recall as a small girl with Grandad, he was not a man who liked little children very much, in fact his two favorite sayings were 'Silence is Golden' (I SO know what he is talking about NOW!) and 'Children should be Seen and not Heard'.  So to have this gruff man be so sweet and kind to me when he made the cuckoo pop out is a treasured memory.

I also loved the smell of the clock.  Grandad smoked a pipe and I have always loved the smell of tobacco (as opposed to cigarettes).  His house always smelt manly and warm and inviting.  As a teenager and young adult, I saw a new side to my Grandad, when he moved to live in a flat on my parents farm, there too was his cuckoo clock.  Grandma by this stage, was in a home, sadly she had a severe stroke very young and needed high care.  This is where I re-connected to this man, he became a good friend then, and I saw him love and take time with my own sons in a way he had never done with us grand kids as children.  Old age had softened him. I would watch with love, as he showed my little lads the very same as he had done to me, the cuckoo coming out of its hole to tell us the time.  My boys had the same delight on their faces as I must have done.

The clock was purchased by Grandma and Granddad on their honeymoon in Switzerland.  It was 1936, so its not a particularly old clock, and was not a overly expensive one either.

When my Granddad died in 1993, he left me the cuckoo clock.  It was sad to have found him as an adult to have lost him again so soon, so this clock became a symbol of that relationship.  I loved having it in my house, truly treasured it.  It still had his smell and I could still imagine his gnarled fingers winding the hands forward to make it 'cuckoo'.  Mr K however did not share the love, he hates ticking clocks and hated even more the little cuckoo coming out to announce the time (he used to lock the little birds door at night). 

When we moved to our new house, the clock was not working very well and I decided to have it serviced by a local clock maker in Guildford.  He was reputable, long time clock maker, with a little shop in the village, along side all the antique shops and tearooms.  The clock man need to have a part that had worn down, re-manufactured, so it took a number of months to have the repairs done.  Every few weeks I would call him to see if it was ready yet, and one day, when I called, the number said it was disconnected.  A little shocked, I got in the car and went down to the shop, to find it all closed up and emptied.  My heart sank, I panicked and cried and tried every thing I could to find where the clock man had gone!  After months of trying, I gave up and realised my beloved cuckoo clock had gone, it was not just a clock I had lost (or had stolen if you want to view it that way) but a deep connection to my Grandparents.  It took me a long time to get over that, and if I am honest, I still feel very sad about it.

That's why I had to buy a new clock when I went to Switzerland.  I decided to start a new tradition and carry with it this story.  Every time someone comments on my clock, I tell them this story - that way it stays alive!  Not sure what bad karma a wicked clock maker would bring upon himself for this deed, but I can imagine it would be a lifetime of out of time clocks!  Or being pecked by a cuckoo!  I hope it went to a loving home.

The weekend of almost normal

We are so enjoying our renovated house, that bizarrely, we both have renewed energy and desire to 'potter' about.  I am just blown away how such a relatively (albeit hard slog) small amount of work has changed out mood and attitude so completely.  I knew it would make me feel better, and lift me from the depression I have been under for a long time, but I didn't think Mr K was under the same heavy weight.

As we each have our own area's to play now, we spent the Saturday morning emptying the boxes stored in the carport.  I had a great time as a lot of the boxes were things I packed up when we painted the lounge/dining/kitchen in 2010.  All my beautiful green and white transferwear plates and cups were unpacked and displayed on the dresser.  My Irish pottery, my lovely green and white striped jugs (these are old jugs from NSW, an Aussie take on the blue and white Cornishwear).  I was like a kid at Christmas, the scary thing was that I kept unearthing treasures that I had completely forgotten I owned.  Which gave me a niggling thought - if I don't remember these things, then I didn't miss them, and do I really need them?  I silenced this thought with a rekindling of my love of them and now the rooster and hen sit atop my dresser, my Lilliput Lanes are on display (I never forgot I had these, they have been an old and valued love). 

However, I did get my ruthless hat on and if I really did not like the item, if it was damaged, or just did not fit, then it went into the give away box.  The hardest things to deal with are those that have been given to you as gifts, but you are not sure you like or that they fit with my style.  I know people give me things from their heart, but sometimes they just don't work.  I am keeping these things but stored away for another time and place - perhaps they will work better then.  So if you are reading this and you don't see gifts displayed, please know that I love the thought, but the reality may not be right for now.  I do still have them, as I treasure the sentiment, but they are not on display in this house.

Mr K too had a very productive time.  He was even (wait for this!) seen with not only a vacuum cleaner, but cleaning clothes as well.  And if that isn't too shocking, how about this - he labelled, with a label maker, all his drawers!  His new desk is certainly making him Mr Clean and Organised. 

The walls are looking very bare, so the next little mini project is to be putting up the pictures we have and finding other pictures to complete the look. 

Sunday was bleak and wet so the perfect day to stay warm and dry and have son #2 and his girlfriend drop by for lunch.  Mr K's sister was visiting her mum and came bearing home made (she is such a wonderful sweets cook) sponge cake.  I had made a quiche, so it was not a hard task to expand the lunch invite to Ms J and MIL to make six.  Any excuse for me to use my new silver tea set and in no time we had tea and cakes and all things 'high tea'!  Oh the joy of pouring (I played Mother) tea from a beautiful, elegant teapot.  I felt like a Duchess.

Using the dining room like this, made me realise that this room now needs bringing up to scratch.  I will add it to the never-ending list of To Do's.

PS: Sorry for bad photo's - using my phone for the pics, think I need to go back to the camera?

Youth unemployment

I am sorry.  Did I miss something in this news report?

ABC 7.30 Report

I watched this report last night by reporter Heather Ewart.  As a mother I was interested to see what the plight of our youth is, with regards to the employment situation.  Although it does not concern me directly, both my sons have jobs and are studying, it does concern me that we (as a society, not we as in individuals) have created a generation that has bad attitude to working.

I see this all the time in my own business.  We try and employ young people, we like to give them a chance and help their career and guide them.  A huge number of them, when interviewed, have a terrible attitude to work.  They have grown up thinking the world is theirs to take, they don't need to try hard, or make an effort (I can't tell you how many candidates turn up to an interview in a hoodie, or with piercings all over their face, AND this is when they turn up at all!).  It's not like we are running a sweat shop, or even manual labour - we are interviewing them to be a computer technician.

Most have NO people skills, mumble, have done no research about our company, have a vague idea of what the job is, don't like the fact they have to start at the bottom and, in our opinion, are unemployable.  I get the impression that most of them are just going through the motions of applying for a job so they can fulfill their dole requirements.  Where have we failed them?

Of course not ALL youth are like this, we have three working for us now that are wonderful lads. They work hard, are respectful, dress well, and when asked to take the bin out (and yes, we ask everyone, including myself) they don't roll their eyes and sigh and complain.  We work hard with these boys, give them training, older mentors, a career path and emotional support when needed.  They are like our own sons.  My own sons both have very good work ethics, both had partime jobs in high school, both worked while they were at Uni, both now have very promising careers.  They were taught that you start at the bottom and work your way to the top, earning respect not demanding it.  My eldest son started his career in politics by volunteering, lots of unpaid but appreciated work.

So when I saw this young chap on the 7.30 Report lamenting the fact he can't get a job, I felt kinda sad for him.  Until it came to light that he can't find a job as the only one he wants is to be a film director!!  This is what he is studying, and this is his career!  Are you kidding me?  He was shown some manual jobs by a peer, that he declined, he said he was desperate for a job, yet appears on national television wearing a hoodie, tracksuits pants and a bad attitude.  Had he dressed neatly, changed his attitude and said he was willing to try anything, I am sure there would have been employers out there that would have given him a go. What on earth are his career guidance officer, let alone his parents, telling him?

I blame this boys parents, although I don't think they realise what they have done.  It seems so trendy these days to tell your teenagers the same fairytale you told them when they were little.  The princess always gets the handsome prince, the puppy will be saved, the tooth fairy will pay you.  Now they get told they can do anything in the world they want to do, the skies the limit.  If you don't have talent, that's ok, you can put something on YouTube and get 'discovered'.  All very well and touchy-feely, but its not how the world works.  This lad had probably been told that if he wanted to be a film director, then all he had to do was go to college and study to be one.  It was his dream and who are we to tell him otherwise? 

This 'boy' is 19.  A few generations ago, 19 was a man.  With a man's responsibilities.  If the reporter of this story could only find this lad as an example of how bad the youth unemployment is, then I would suggest her story is pretty flimsy. 

My youngest son is a musician.  He is a very good one, was accepted into WAPA (Western Australian Performing Arts) to play Bass.  Its very hard to get in, the musicians then work, and compete, to stay in and complete their degree. He has been there for 5 years now, and in his final year of becoming a music teacher.  Of course, being an artist, he has always dreamed of being a musician, making it big, earning a living from his passion.  And although he is very good, is in a very successful band, even he knows that there is a reality out there.  We would never quash his dreams (and I truly hope one day they do come true for him), but we also have a duty as parents to keep his feet on the ground and teach him how to keep food on his table.

PS:

I have told my husband that I am quitting my job and going back to uni to follow my dream of being a writer.  I won't take any job that does not employ me to write, in fact I want to be a freelance writer, with a sun filled studio and a book contract.  He will just have to support me, while I wait for my dream job to come along.  I will not accept that I may not be a good enough writer, its my dream and the world owes it to me.  I will live happily ever after and marry the handsome prince (oh wait, I already did that bit ;-)

The End.

You look too young

"To have children that age!"

I was told this three times over this past weekend and at first it made me feel really (and I mean really!) flattered.  At 48, every woman this age is looking to eek out the last of their youth.  And to be told you look young is the ultimate compliment.  Isn't it?

Well it appears my brain says no.  So attuned to being negative about myself, after the initial thrill of the compliment, this is the path my brain took us down. 

Brain: You know why you look too young for a 25 year old son don't you?

Me: Because I inherited good genes from both my parents - they both look (and act) very young for their age?

Brain: Don't be so naive.

Me: ?

Brain: What they are really saying is that you look young because you are, which means you must have had your kids when you were young, which means you are a bad girl!

Me: But I was married when I had my first baby.

Brain: Yeah, they think its because you had to get married.

Me: But I didn't, I actually fell pregnant on my honeymoon.  I was 23.

Brain: They think you were some teenage bride who got married to escape the little country town you lived it.

Me: I lived with my husband for four years before we got married and I went BACK to the little country town, not away from it.  You are just mean Brain.

Brain: Hey, don't shoot the messenger.  I am just telling you what all those nice people really think.

Me: Its not true.  They were being genuinely nice when they said I look young.

Brain: They are nice to you because you are fat and its the only compliment they can pay you.

Me: Shut up Brain, i am going to ignore you now.

My Brain and I don't get along that well, and from the above excerpt you can see why.  I was young when I married and had my first son. Well, young by today's standards.  Back then, in the 80's it was quiet normal, especially in a country town.  Breeding is important in the country!

I will admit it was hard at first, being a mum and watching my footloose friends backpack through Europe, or have careers that they could travel, or go out partying late at night.  But now, at 48, I am an empty-nester, both sins sons have their own place, girlfriends, careers and lives.  Its our turn now, and soon we will have the money to be able to backpack in style in 5, well maybe 4, star hotels and fly business class.  I have a craft room (Son #2 ex room), a reading room (Sons ex activity room) a guest bedroom (Son #1 ex room) and my very own office.  Just a few of the benefits of having your children young!

So Brain, here is a message for you.  The next time some kind person says we look too young to have adult children - you can go take a hike and I will bask in their compliment.

Thank you to those people, it made me smile.

My 40th Birthday with my wonderful boys.  xx

My husband likes candles!

I know that's not really an earth shattering statement, but if you knew Mr K you would know how much out of character this is.  Enough to dedicate a whole blog page to anyway.  And I am not talking about the white paraphin candles you get out when there is a power blackout - no, I am talking about smelly candles!

 

 

Like most girls, I like my house to smell nice.  Its been a pretty tough, uphill battle to achieve this with three males in the house, not to mention the animals and my aversion to cleaning.  So like all good housekeepers, I mask the problem with candles and oils and smelly/pretty things.  These masking attempts have always been met with bad humour from the maleness of the household, or at the very least comments such as "awww Mum, they don't half stink" or "do you have to have so many cluttering up the place" (this from a husband that thinks leaving shoes, socks, shirts, business cards, pens all over the lounge is not clutter).

 

Now that the boys have left home and Mr K and I are empty nesters, the odds are even again.  Its him against me, and those odds have tipped even further in my favour as I have four rooms that are 'mine' to his one!  Oh the candles I have been buying.  Not to mention the mood reeds or the oils.  Each room of mine has a theme - my office is vanilla, warm and inviting, yet not too relaxed.  The guest bedroom is Lilly of the Valley as its my mums favorite.  The reading room is 'calm' - lavender and rose, while the lounge room is a unisex 'seaside'.

 

 

 

Mr K is a smoker - so he has his own aromatherapy called 'yuck!'.  Now that he has his own study, he has decided that this is his room and he will smoke in there (smokers are all rebels - thats why they started in the first place!).  I don't care, as long as the doors are closed and I don't ever need to go in there -its his domain.  Its a shame however, his study is all newly painted and carpeted, so to stink it up with smoke is sad.  But, as I said, its his room.  He has a mate come over each week - confirmed bachelor, who thinks having a mans study is as it should be - gentlemen smoking pipes and cigars and swilling red wine, while the women cook and make no kitchen noise (his words not mine). 

 

After a week, Mr K sheepishly says his study is a bit on the nose and were there any masculine candles?  I am not sure if he was thinking 'camping' - the smell of campfire and burnt chops, or 'sport' the smell of wet footy socks and meat pies, or even 'boys night out'- the smell of stale beer and vomit.  I did try however, went into my favorite candle store, Dusk, and asked if there were any smells for men!  Yes, I did get a funny look, so had to go on to explain the need for a candle to cover stale cigarette smoke. 

 

Ms Dusk Girl and I made the executive decision that a 'destination' candle called Tibet - a heady blend of black tea and lychee's would be the least girly smell.  I can't really see Mr K heading off to meditate in Tibet, but I am glad it was black tea and not green as that would have been a hippy thing too far for him.  I selected a tall pillar candle, matched it with a glass plate and trotted home to present the offering to Mr K.  He opened the package, accepted that it was a candle, sniffed it, asked what the glass plate was for and proceeded to set it up and light it.  I gave him the little speech they give me every time I buy a new candle, make sure you trim the wick each time, only burn it for an hour the first time etc.

 

 

 

He puffed away in his office for hours, his candle burning away, a romantic scene if ever there was one.  Dubious about how much a candle could actually cover the pungency of smoke, I snuck into his office the next day and was very pleasantly surprised and had my olfactory senses appeased.  I almost forgot myself and thought I was indeed immersed in Tibet. 

 

The next day, he came up to my reading room, asking for the little thing-a-ma-jig that I trim the wicks with.  What!!?  Not only did he listen to me, but he was getting a little bit cardigan with matching scarf for my liking.  I have to say, I am most impressed but even more surprised that my husband now likes candles.

 

 

Ways to de-stress

I was away on the weekend and a few of the ladies in the group I was with, went into the little seaside town of Dunsborough for some shopping.  Its always fun shopping when you are on holiday - you have the time to spare to just browse and you feel you have to buy a souvenir (or two).  The ladies I was shopping with are both CEO's of their own companies, highly successful and highly driven women.  To them, retail therapy was just that - therapy.  To me, the shopping part was a feathering of the nest and not necessarily therapeutic.

I did find a treasure, a white linen (real linen!) table cloth and matching napkins.  I clutched it tightly as I waited at the counter to pay, I have been looking for this kind of quality for ages, and here it was in a little coastal town shop called The Lemon Tree.  One of the ladies I was with, older and wiser than me,  smiled at me and said you know you will have to iron those all the time to make them look nice!  I smiled back and said, yes I know - I actually love ironing napery and linens.  The shop keeper and this lady exchanged knowing glances. I confirmed to her how mad I am by going on to add, that I also love to polish silver - its my form of therapy. 

There are a number of reasons why I love this basic of all tasks: 

• I like to do things that take me to another quieter, less hurried era.
• Polishing silver reminds me of when I was a little girl and I sat at my Grandmothers table and polished her (that is now mine) silver
• Making a neat pile of perfectly ironed and pressed linen truly makes me smile
• I get a huge sense of satisfaction from making something that looks drab and dreary into something that sparkles and shines
• I like to look at my silver and pressed linen and feel I am ready for company at any time (even if the loo is dirty and the floor needs washing, at least I have wrinkle free napkins!)
• I like to care for my treasured things

It gives me a huge sense of satisfaction to turn this ....

into this ...

So there I sit at the dining table, clothes and Silvio at the ready, and while I watch and listen to TV I set about polishing away the blackness to reveal the shiny, beautiful silver.

Now who could day this wasn't satisfying work?

The weekend that was

TEC Retreat Advance

Mr K belongs to a mentoring group for CEO's.  It has been a very worthwhile and rewarding membership, one which he involves me in at certain times.  Basically the group is chaired by a retired CEO, with a world of experience and knowledge, so valuable and relevant.  The group is by invitation only, so selected CEO's are invited to join and be a part of a peer support group as well as be guided by our Chair.  Mr K's group, TEC 41, is a very tight knit and progressive group, led by a lovely man, who inspires and challenges and gently (or sometimes not!) guides. 

Once a month Mr K attends a group meeting - an all day event where there is normally a speaker, a workshop and then the peer members all take turns in discussing or airing concerns, or projects or success's.  The members are ever so supportive, and just having a third ear or twelve, makes a huge difference.  Of course there is the Chair who is exceptional at playing devils advocate.  He is famous for asking probing questions! There is also a monthly one on one with our Chair, were specific issues about our business are discussed, he guides us and offers insights into better ways of doing business.  At $1700 a month its not a cheap membership, but to our business it's been priceless.

So, to this weekend. Every year, the group goes away for a retreat - however in true CEO style they call it an advance, not a retreat!  I like that.  Last year we went to Bunbury, this year it was Dunsborough.  There was plenty of wine and food and great company - the CEO's partners all come along.  Friday night was a catered affair at one of the members 'beach shacks" - palatial doesn't even come close to describing it.  On the Saturday morning we had a seminar, about teams and leaders - very thought provoking and great speaker.  Saturday afternoon was a free for all - 3 of us women chose to spend it in retail therapy in the lovely little shops in town.  Saturday night dinner was at a surprise location, which turned out to be at Lamont's at Smiths Beach.  All very hard to take I can tell you.

Headed home Sunday after a leisurely breakfast and a heavenly sleep in.  Wonder where we will end up next year?

Here is where we stayed

View from the balcony in our bedroom - there was another balcony on the story above us that got even better views!

The 'Beach Shack' we stayed in.  Amazing



Lounge area on the top floor.  There was a huge dining area and chefs kitchen behind this

The Friday night party in full swing.  It was catered by a chef and there was french champers flowing.

Front view of the house we had party in Friday night.  As a holiday home, it was better than any house I have ever lived in!

Happy Birthday to my Darling Dad! xxx

Just one year off three quarters of a century and still a legend in his own lunchbox!  No I tell a lie - he is a legend to all that know and love him.  An amazing man in so many ways - generous (with his love, time and worldly possessions), kind (to both animals and Mum!), well respected and respectful by and to others, a man of the community and a man who lives his life to the absolute full.  A true rolemodel to his family and peers.  Better stop now before this sounds like an obituary! 

I truly admire and love my Dad very much, so this is a Birthday Hooray for him as I can't be with him in person to spoil him.  It is also, a public declaration that he has a special meal waiting for him when he is up in Perth in September.  I can't be with him this weekend as I am heading down to Dunsborough to stay in a resort (terrible) and have lots of lovely meals (even more terrible) at wineries (debaucherous) ... but I hope you know Dad - I WILL be thinking of you (well at least when I remember :-0) 

I give you my amazing and wonderful Dad - Bobby!  Happy Birthday to my Dad.

1963 - Pre Marriage

1964 - Aww a new Daddy

Missing in between are the pictures of the middle years - you know between building a house, kids, building another house, grandkids, building yet another house and finally retirement, after building the final (?) house.  I cant show these pictures as he was always with a hammer in his hand, bending over showing a carpenters crack!  (Not really, I have not yet scanned all the middle years photo's onto my PC)  That's a retirement job!  So we skip 40 years ...

2004 - Christmas - A Grange induced grin!

2008 - Stratford-on-Avon

2012 - Wattle Grove Demo Team

Three Days In

It's Wednesday evening, dinner is simmering away on the stove (authentic Italian Bolognaise sauce), I can smell it from my office.  Did I say MY office?  MY very own, no-one but me is allowed office?  It's such a thrill.  I have been silently falling in love with this room since first thing Monday morning.  But like all women who fall in love, as soon as we have them, we want to start changing them.  Just little cosmetic things, maybe a bad habit or two, they way they dress, how they do their hair - just enough change to put our own stamp on them without breaking the original character. 


Thus it is with my very own office.  It looks outside through 2 casement windows.  Sadly the view at the moment is the 4X4 Navara and some weeds.  But I have plans come Spring.  I have a desk that goes across the two windows, fresh air and light - something I missed terribly in the basement that was my old office.  The desk has my PC/monitor (all in one), a printer/scanner/fax machine (all in one), a lamp, a jar of jelly beans, a box of tissues and a pencil holder (none of them are all in one!).  That's it.  The rest gets put away every night.  I want streamlined minimalist.  I tried to even have the printer on another surface, but the tech head, aka Mr K said it had to be directly connected to my PC if I wanted to scan.  Sigh.

Now this looks messy and not calm or pretty at all.  Have to work at this

Plain old boring.  Needs colour and curtains

On my right side (yes I know all that know me are giggling at the thought of me working out which way was right!) are two bookcases, the closest one is full of work files and pretty boxes of stationery.  All neat and co-ordinated and appealing.  The other bookcase has books in the categories of : writing (I so want to pursue this again); genealogy (ditto) horse management (ditto, ditto) and a million cook books (I have some Nigella Lawson thing going where I imagine myself sitting at my desk writing family history cookbooks!)

Idea is good, execution is not.  Will make all files the same size and select better papers

Right next to my desk is a newly purchased heater - that was scored Monday as it was so cold in here, my fingers were frozen.  Also purchased this same day was a little bed for the muppet.  She is yet to be convinced it's her colour, and sometimes she gets on it, other times she prefers to sit right behind my chair, under the wheels - I have tufts of her tail fur to prove it.  The cat however thinks its devine.

Minty on one of the rare times she liked her bed

On the opposite side to the bookcases and to my left as I sit at my desk, is one of two credenza's.  This one proudly displays my horse on the top and paper and envelopes inside.  The other credenza is directly behind me, near the door, and this will be for odds and ends and ugly files I don't want to see the light of day.  Kinda like the interesting, but ugly fish in the depths of the dead sea.

Needs a lot of work - pictures behind I think

Ditto here, just plain dull.

Nothing adorns the walls yet, but don't worry, I have plans.  On the little wall between the casement windows will be a new clock like this:

Have purchased this and hung it up - looks lovely

and a pin-up board covered in a lovely fabric

Bought material today - will play in my craft room this weekend.

Some pictures on the walls, I am thinking some of the nice maps I have will suit.  Still havent really settled on a theme/colour accent so on the lookout for a fabric, or picture that I fall in love with that can be the jumping off point.