#606 Being able to Give

I feel lucky to be a part of a community that cares so much about those less fortunate around them.

And I am grateful, that like them, I am able to give what I have to those that are in need.

It need not be heaps of money, pricey items or even the most expensive of commodities, TIME.

Helping how you can, in the smallest of ways as what it may seem like to you, is help enough.

I have been following an ongoing facebook thread in a local page I follow, of two women who take in unwanted/unused household items and clothing, to give to those unable to afford it, because they are experiencing some horrible hardship. The most common of unfortunate circumstances has been when someone in the family is sick, and therefore all of their money goes to medical treatments, rather than other things which usually a necessity, become a luxury.

So when the call out went to Summer clothing in girls items aged 3-4, I knew it was time to step up.

I went through baby girl’s wardrobe, looking for specific items to donate. As it is I have kept most of her clothes and parted only with some, for the main reason that there is a possibility that I could one day have another girl, and she could use many of these beautiful items.

Now having said that, I know that if I were to really have another girl, I would probably only use a very minute amount of these ‘recycled’ clothes, and buy the rest, from sheer want of getting pretty new things for her. I think really, I find it hard to let go of these clothes once baby girl grows out of them due to the memories attached, and I use the ‘recycle’ excuse as cover.

But I did what I could anyway, and popped some pretty things in a bag. I stalled at two dresses, and so thought best I call in baby girl for help.

“Baby girl, these two dresses… do you think they’re too small? Mummy was going to give some of your small things to a sick girl.”

Baby girl looked at the dresses, thinking.

Finally she settled, letting me know that yes, I could give away the two smaller ones, yet definitely do not give away the one on the right Mum.

Such a girl.

And that’s it. I was humbled by the presence of sickness and health, of love and sadness, and of introducing an important topic to baby girl… that of giving to those less fortunate, and the stark nature of Life as we know it.

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Photo by ORNELLA BINNI on Unsplash

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#567 Father’s Day Wine-ing time

I did good today.

Hubbie was rapt with his Father’s Day pressie.

It came on the back of him telling me a while back that he was seriously over the accumulation of things. I had to agree. We still have unopened boxes from our move, and I just want to go through them and cull what I can… and even then I will still have stuff that I have no proper home for.

Following on from a Facebook question from a member in a group I’m in, about kid-friendly wineries on the Peninsula, my ears immediately perked up and I formed a plan. I have been hanging to go to a winery in these parts since our move, and now with Spring upon us, and then the addition of ‘what to do for Father’s Day,’ I went through the list to see where we could go as an experience, rather than just get Hubbie a present for the day.

It was meant to be Hickinbotham. It was the first number I called from the list of kid-friendly wineries listed, and they were able to book us in for a set lunch.

Well, the weather was not Spring-like, not one bit. It was very windy, there was sudden rain at times, and it was cold.

But the winery, was wine-like. Authentic and vintage, relaxed and unpretentious. It was perfect.

And Hubbie LOVED it. Absolutely loved it.

And we kind of decided that experiences are the way to go. Yeah, sometimes you don’t mind a gift, and sometimes you even really want something really bad…

and then other times, you just want to splurge. And we did.

Hubbie is one fussy man, so to get points off him…

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was present enough.

#523 Meeting like minds

It’s been 9 months and 1 week since we moved here. A lot has changed in that time but also, very little.

On our first night we slept on solely the mattress on our bedroom floor, and I felt what was the first gust of cold seaside wind as it wafted on by from under our ensuite door.

Tonight we are freezing our arses off, because our heater has broken.

Like I said, same same. (You can be sure I’ll be damn grateful when that ancient monstrosity of a heating system is repaired).

But then, other things are beginning to change. Have changed. Hubbie found his groove, and a group of locals from the area, once he found work here. Likewise, baby girl started her first year of kinder by the beachside, and has also found little playmates here and there. They’ve both solidly positioned themselves in our new ‘hood, and meanwhile, here I am.

Here I am.

I work on the city fringe which took any meet-the-locals opportunities away from me immediately. And though I know Hubbie’s workmates, and I sometimes chat to the kinder Mums, I really wanted to find something for myself, here on my own, FOR ME.

A while back, I very accidentally stumbled across a local bloggers group on Facebook. I’d joined many local FB groups, for that whole intention: to learn, be in the know, and perhaps learn something novel, or even make new friends along the way.

I didn’t even think a group for local bloggers existed: but, so it was.

Cue today. Today I met up with some of these bloggers and their kiddies, in a post that will appear over at SmikG very soon. The kids ran amuck, while we as bloggers, positioned our cameras (who am I kidding, my phone) into every nook and cranny of the establishment we were in, taking shots here, there and everywhere. 

It was out in the open, nothing at all like any of my previous posts based on life experiences or food, or anything ever that I have written ever was.

I was OPENLY OUT as a blogger. It was fantastic. And made even more so, by meeting people, who like me, had turned online to promote a medium, for whatever art they deemed interesting to themselves: whether it was life, children, providing a service, or promoting a business, I came in, with nothing to lose, no one who knew me, and I felt as light as a feather.

Not nervous. Curious.

Not scared. Excited.

Not shy. Questioning.

Not only a blogger… but a Writer.

I loved the day, and the meeting of all of these people. I don’t know what will come of it, and how this group, or these people, will play a role in my life, or if they will play one AT ALL… but I’m excited at this new beginning our Sea change has brought us, and am hopeful that after today, many more experiences of being OUT as a Writer/Blogger, will abound.

Actually, I’m pretty damn sure this is only the beginning.

I am exceptionally grateful, indeed. 🙂

 

#442 Hubbie the handyman – the beginning

I am so confident about this, that I’m calling it the beginning. Of course, I have never before used the words ‘Hubbie,’ and ‘handyman’ in the same sentence… oh no, I lie. It was just in a negative tense: “Hubbie is NOT a handyman.”

So this is a big deal. This is actually GREAT. After weeks and weeks and months and absolute yonks of putting it off, Hubbie finally gave a go of changing our current old and wonky en-suite doorknob, to a new and fresh and certainly more modern looking one.

It took a while. I sat nearby on the bed most of the time, staring at the instructions blankly, holding the door and the handles when required, finding extension cords, and scrolling through my facebook feed intermittently – that is to say, I was practically of no use. That’s fine. My talents lie in other fields…

However, if not even one of us can do kind of basic reno stuff, our house is going to cost us a God-damn fortune. Sure we are gonna get professionals to re-do our kitchen and other major things, but like, a door handle? If we are getting tradies in to change stuff like that, we’ll need to grow ourselves a money tree or just wait forever, whatever comes first.

But, HE DID IT. After much scratching of the head and heavy pondering, Hubbie changed the door knob, and it looks great, AND it actually works!

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I’m so proud of his perseverance, I knew he had it in him ;*

#436 Tea and reclaimed Easter egg muffins

You know how some days you just need a tea? I’m talking to you coffee drinkers out there. I don’t have to reconvert a tea aficionado to know how good a drink of little-itty-bitty leaves can be.

But today, I knew from the morning, on this cold and dreary day, that I would eventually need a tea. My soul was asking for it. And how rude of me to ignore the inner wishes of my psyche, so of course, I complied.

But I went further. I had seen a fellow facebook ‘friend’ post a photo of some muffins she had made using some box mix, and thrown in a whole heap of chopped up Easter chocolate, to use it up.

‘What a great idea!’ I had thought. Hubbie and I are way more cake people than we are chocolate ones. However if I left baby girl to her own devices, she may just block herself up on all the Easter treats she received this year, let’s be honest. So I have most of it stashed away, and like all the other years before it, it would eventually get to a crumbly white faded texture, and then we’d throw the poor chocolate away.

But this?! Popping chocolate into a plain old muffin mixture? I could do that every week!

So I found a reasonably simple muffin recipe I had, that used orange and strawberry as an afternoon treat, and instead substituted that with a bunch of Easter eggs chopped up.

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I was surprised at how good they were. And as per usual, my soul’s wish for tea, was touched indeed. Ahhh 🙂

#369 Mr Penn

This gratitude thread holds a fair bit of bitter-sweetness.

Let me introduce you to someone.

Mr Judda-Penn.

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He is our Indian Ringneck Parrot. I say Mr, for frivolities sake, but am slightly disappointed that he never took to the Penn name we tried to re-Christen him with when we obtained him from Hubbie’s relos. He would only respond to the name he had known with his previous owners, which was Juddy.

Hence, his hyphenated name was born. I couldn’t let go of the Penn, even if he never squawked back at me when I used it.

He… was our Indian Ringneck Parrot. I hope I can use ‘is’ again, but Hope is not only a survival technique, but a dangerous one at that. I want to Hope, but I am also scared to practice it too much.

We had him for 4ish months. And I didn’t realise how much he was a distinct presence in our home, until today. I didn’t realise how much he amused me. I didn’t realise, that part of me would miss how he would aggressively jump up near his food bowls as I tried to change his seed and water. I didn’t realise that the removal of his 4pm calls would create a silence that was cold. And I didn’t realise that when I found his cage empty this morning, that I would also feel subsequently empty, and a strong desire to move the cage elsewhere so it didn’t remind me that he was not around anymore.

He escaped, sometime this morning. He is a clever bird, and a cheeky one at that – something we are also missing. Hubbie feels betrayed. We fed him, gave him a home, gave him water baths on hot days, and played with him. Even our family and friends were beginning to get to know him. We really enjoyed having him around.

I don’t know what the next chapter in this story will be, but now that he is gone, I realise that I am grateful for his presence in our lives. He was in it for only a little while, but he made an impact. After all, he transitioned in an important part of our lives, with our Sea change.

I am also grateful to the people on the facebook community groups, those from Mornington and the surrounds, who have been sharing my lost bird posts. Even though I don’t know these people, I am amazed at the willingness of people to spread the word of our lost bird, in the chance that someone sees him on a nearby fence, bathing in a bird bath, or pecking away at fruits on a tree.

As I gazed at this view earlier tonight, I wondered, where would Judda-Penn sleep tonight? Would he have adequate shelter? Would he be safe? These thoughts made me sad.

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Goodnight Judda-Penn.

*If anyone reading this is from the Mornington area or surrounds, and comes across a bird looking like this – PLEASE contact me. Baby girl would like to blow him kisses again XOXO*

#359 Mum joined facebook

Like, literally. This happened in the real world, TODAY.

I had messaged sis late last night with a whole barrage of various questions

(Do you want to see the Wiggles in Frankston/What size sour cream goes into that awesome dip/Can I get the bread a day in advance)

so it came as a little surprise when I turned on my phone and her reply to me this morning was

“Pls send FB request for Mum when you have a minute.”

What?!

I cared not that she hadn’t answered my questions, nor that I was in the middle of preparing brekkie and a hungry baby girl was nearby… I hightailed it to my FB app and typed in Mum’s name, and lo and behold THERE WAS AN ONLINE IDENTITY FOR HER.

(Angels sing!)

For people who are old-school, and who grew up in a tiny European village with one pair of pants, and a toilet as a hole in the ground, this is a big deal. As forward thinking and open-minded as my parents are, I still never thought I would ever see THIS day. We had been talking about getting Mum a new phone lately, with a FB app so she could connect with family here and abroad, but until I saw my Mum’s profile pic (of her and my Dad, shucks) it actually didn’t seem possible.

I for one, am over the moon. I never thought of the possibilities of my Mum having a facebook account, and I guess it’s just the thought that she can see what I see, and also, see me, and baby girl, and Hubbie online, whenever she likes, especially now that we are living further away from each other. The opportunities are exciting for her, and I know this even if she doesn’t, yet, which is why I am so happy for her.

What did I do upon finding her profile? On her wall:

“Hi Mum, welcome to facebook! ♥”

🙂

I’m chuffed my Mum is on Facebook. Really, words I never thought I would utter.