#1892 Published at your feet

😁😁😁😁

(Fuck, something has to go right in my life about now…)

Excusez-moi my F bomb, but after a certain amount of time, zero Fs are given.

I walked up to my wonderful words today, to see my story come true before my very eyes.

Yes, that is me, I am breaking smikg protocol and displaying myself for all (or am I, really, am I? 😉)

I participated in a wonderful initiative last year by submitting some works towards a community project… the writers club I am part of teamed up with the local shire to get writers to create a mini fiction, no more than 6 words, on the theme of community, to be drawn and displayed along the streets of Rosebud.

Why, having my words out there for all to see? How could I miss the opportunity!

After finding out yesterday that yes, it DID happen yesterday, I headed on down with Hubbie today to pinch myself.

You know what’s funny about that photo? The sun was shining DIRECTLY on the SHINE part, but the photo didn’t show the light and dark well so I got Hubbie to like, hug me from the side so that we could block out the sun… can you see his outline? 😂

I got a little teary, I won’t lie. I’ve been longing to be published in some form for so long. And even this, on the footpath, just 6 words… it makes me so happy. It’s given me the much-needed boost I’ve needed, in the midst of life difficulty, frustration with everything, and very regular bouts of writer’s insecurity, like “am I good enough?” “my writing isn’t as good as theirs,” and “who’s going to want to read this?”

But to be published, just once, anywhere… it’s broken the spell. It’s crashed through the dam of insecurity, of doubt, and now the water is crashing down, happy and unbridled and free, and it wants to do it all.

I can just stare at that, like ALL DAY.

I will enjoy this moment, and hold on, as much as I can.

Yay. PUBLISHED.

Happy dance!

***Big thanks to @rondelle for her fabulous artwork, and @peninsulawriters along with @mornpenartsandculture for this great opportunity to try and inspire. ***

#footpathfiction

#1885 Keep that snail pace

All I can say is, don’t give up.

Things aren’t perfect, and they can always get better. But I find myself at a point where I feel like despite everything, there is nothing else to do BUT keep going.

Keep moving.

Keep yourself distracted with passions, personal pursuits. If some things aren’t working out, well then find what IS, and run after that at full-speed.

But also, don’t be hard on yourself. I found myself the other night nearly crying with despair to Hubbie.

“And I want to do this, and do this, and I’m trying to do this, and then I’ve got my book! Then I want to do this, AND this…”

The list goes on and on and on.

We put sooo much pressure on ourselves.

We want to create this perfect family life. But we have to also work, and make money. Maintain the house. Cook wholesome food. Clean. Wash clothes every second of every day (or so it seems). Feed people.

But also chase your dreams! Be fit, exercise. Eat mindfully. Take time out, but don’t waste a second!

Play with your kids. Give yourself me time. Take walks. Sleep in. Keep in regular contact with family, friends.

What the actual fuck am I to do with all that?

Something has GOTTA give.

I’ve been giving so, so much lately. I can only do things, and move forward in incremental steps, and it’s these tiny baby steps I’ve been taking that are making me feel like things are actually moving.

Snail place, but still moving forward.

And that leads me back to, don’t give up.

It’s so tiresome and banal, telling people to not give up. I’ve felt like telling people over the last shit year who’ve passed out that quote, to piss off and shut up.

But I find it to be true, too true. Even in super-crawl slow-mo pace, I find it to be the most factual of all things.

Keep your head up. Look at what positives you can… even if it’s the blanket on you right now. A hot drink. Sun peeking through the clouds. Someone sending you a nice message. A cute cat.

I am skilled in the art of looking for things in the smallest of spaces. I should know. It’s awfully difficult, but it can be done.

And I guess, it’s nice to be passing out this advice, instead of looking for it.

Progress.

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich on Pexels.com

#1880 Bunny movie time

I took baby girl to a movie today.

It’s been a REALLY long time. It was made all the more fun because

a) it was a voucher given to her some time ago, and

2) we thought it may have expired, because well, IT HAD EXPIRED.

But, in true post-covid world fashion, the use of the voucher had been extended, affording us the ability to use it and have the best time today!

We went to watch Peter Rabbit 2 at the Vjunior cinemas. It was brilliant. I zoned in and out for most of the time, (let’s be honest, I was with child after all) and when the kids went bezerk at the ‘pause’ mark to run up to the mega slide, I slid my legs out across the tiny aisle from my beanbag seat and went –

“Ahhh.”

But it actually was a really sweet and thrilling movie, and I took great pleasure watching baby girl’s smiling face, happily devouring her kids pizza, snacking on seemingly endless popcorn, and giving me a heartfelt ‘thank you’ when I got her a surprise chocolate milkshake.

F%$K it. It’s school holidays, give them all they want.

It fills my heart. 💖

#1813 I get knocked down…

But I get up again.

So close, so so soooo close to throwing in the towel for this gratitude blog.

You know I’ve never said it out loud, but I’ve seriously considered finishing this blog at number #2000.

I figure if I’ve managed to be grateful for at least one thing for all of those days, then I have the tools necessary to help me through life when times get hard.

Also, it’s a nice even number, and I have plenty of other writing projects to keep me busy anyway.

#2000. That’s only 187 days away. Sometime this year in fact.

But after the day I’ve had, I honestly am questioning if I’ve learnt anything at all.

Because I’m finding it very hard to be grateful.

I get knocked down,

But I get up again

You’re never gonna keep me down

Am I being too hard on myself? I mean, when you go through bad times, or nightmares keep repeatedly coming back to haunt you, how are you meant to act? With a laugh? A yippee? A friendly ‘oh darn, not this again’ with a Joker-like smile?

Nope.

When you’ve had the same freaking thing, annoying you, bugging you, and no one can tell you why, or explain it, and you’re going around and around in circles, and you’re even considering psychics for answers because seriously NO ONE ELSE KNOWS, and then it strikes again…

AHHH!

I get knocked down,

But I get up again

You’re never gonna keep me down.

Seriously. How am I meant to act?

Anyway, This is my bitch-fest. My whinge to the world. Take it as you will, because it may not last for long…

So, what am I even grateful for?

I get knocked down,

But I get up again…

For now.

#1794 The truth behind the holiday pics

What a fucking day.

And I don’t swear lightly… on social media, that is. But today was totally fucking swear-worthy.

The start and end of it look quite blissful… see?

Baby girl’s babycino following our buffet brekkie. Then me enjoying some relaxing time while baby girl screamed “cannonball!” launching into the shallow swimming pool’s waters.

But the meat of the sandwich that was between those two photos? The middle of the day?

That is a story and a half.

Because we had started the day happy, you see. We had brekkie, and on our way to visit a beach we had only stopped by days earlier, made a pit stop to get a boogie board for baby girl, which ended up being a family boogie board, so awesome and big and colourful it was.

We were just pumped. Couldn’t wait to get to the beach, oh, 10 minutes away…

But then my car overheated.

The temperature gauge went to red.

Hubbie pulled over in a panic.

And in the space of a few hours, we were waiting waiting waiting, had a huge mix-up with our car roadside insurance that resulted in help being sent a lot later than we would have liked, we were hot, stuck on a busy road. were in the vicinity of a possible Wolf Creek type abduction attempt when a man pulled over after seeing me outside the car, and in between all of the waiting, being told by the roadside guy there was nothing he could do, daydreaming about the boogie board we should have been using then at the beach…

Well there were the water birds.

We called them ducks the whole time, but they were too big to be ducks. These birds were on one side of the busy road as we waited over an hour for help, and in that space they proceeded to leisurely cross the two sides of traffic, a number of 4 times.

At first, we couldn’t watch. We told baby girl to cover her eyes, sure that one of them would be splattered and flattened over the asphalt. They were lanky, moved slowly, and just lacked any kind of fear or trepidation when it came to forcing huge pieces of machinery to brake to a stop to allow them to pass.

And yet, they passed. They made it. There were 6 of these animals, with one of them hobbling like it’d been swiped by a vehicle… and yet they crossed the two-sided road 4 times.

It was a miracle.

Cars, even trucks, pulled to a stop. We watched in amazement as traffic on this busy tourist road came to a standstill, as these slow-moving water birds ambled across slowly, seemingly unaware of the chaos they were creating.

They managed to move, however slowly, while we sat there static, in the heat, a little bit in awe of their bravery (and sometimes, stupidity).

My faith in humankind was restored, even following the Wolf Creek incident, seeing ‘most’ of the cars patiently wait for these indecisive avian kind to work out which side of the road they wanted to be on.

And that faith in people continued when some time later, a random cafe owner we had passed only that morning on our fated way to the beach, ended up helping Hubbie get back on the road, however slowly, where we breathed a huge sigh of relief that we were back in a known, safe, comfortable place.

But now, we are stuck.

There are a couple of morals to this story. One is the REAL truth behind all the social media photos you see. Despite the filters being put on display, it doesn’t mask the truth in between the snaps of photos being taken and the 100 special effects being created.

And secondly… there are miracles to be observed, even amongst unbelievable odds and impossible situations.

To be continued…

#1788 Hats off to Hatzis

Isn’t it THE BEST when you pose a challenge to someone, and you just know they will never get it?

“Guess what cd I’m going to put on!” I smugly asked Hubbie tonight.

He guessed something that I had taken out of the archives like, 6 months ago.

Err, wrong.

I pressed play, and the sound of a dial tone came on immediately.

“Hello?”

Soon, it was this guy talking in his unmistakable Aussie/European accent.

Yep. Good ol’ Guido.

This wasn’t my CD. Newsflash, it wasn’t Hubbie’s either… he borrowed it off a friend a gazillion years ago, and never gave it back.

Tsk tsk tsk.

I know, I know. But it’s so damn good, I kinda don’t want him to give it back (I think it’s long-forgotten by his friend now!)

Over the years, from our dating days, to early married days, to pre-baby days, to now, we occasionally put this CD on. And it’s the best way to do it, like any comedy. It’s not so funny if you watch or listen to it all the time, because YOU KNOW THE JOKE. But if you come back to it, every year, or even longer, then it’s hilarious.

It’s…

Yep.

It’s truly been years since we listened to Guido. We let the CD run tonight, but then strapped for time, we went to the Florist phone call. We thought that was the one that we loved best from memory, but after a minute or so realised it wasn’t the one, though it is funny… Guido calls a florist to say he will accept the job being advertised, but first things first… they have to get rid of the flowers.

Anyway. The phone call we wanted, was the one AFTER the florist.

THE PLUMBER.

I actually found the call on youtube, for your ultimate listening pleasure. 😁

But before I share, they’ve added a Guido cartoon for effect… I think it totally detracts from the call itself, so sure, play the video, but keep your eyes closed! Listening to Guido and the plumber on their own, is comedy gold.

I won’t say anymore, because like in the words of my other fave comedian Eddie Murphy, who talks about people who “Fuck my jokes up on the job” after seeing his show…

I’ll just let you enjoy 🙂

#1668 Day 170 of getting there: finding humour in the school day

Today it’s a much lighter topic.

I think I’m about to give baby girl’s teacher a reason to laugh, so I think that is pretty cool.

When you can offer someone happiness, even in the form of laughs… well that’s good, right?

It was late into the evening, and baby girl still had one school task left to do. It was after dinner, and I opened my laptop to open the maths video on ‘Mass.’

We both watched it, and her job was to then find 6 items from within the house, and line them up first from smallest to largest… then lightest to heaviest.

So I said “go on, find some things.”

She went around picking up things, here, and there… and then she brought one item in from the kitchen.

And I paused.

“Uh…”

I paused again.

“I don’t know if I want your teacher to see that!”

I paused again, thinking hard. “Stuff it. Leave it.”

Here’s her arrangement of smallest to largest. See if you can pick what I was talking about:

LOL. That empty wine bottle. EMPTY wine bottle! At first I was like “what will she think? That I’m an alcoholic?”

🍷🍷ðŸĪŠðŸĪŠðŸ˜œðŸ˜œðŸ·ðŸ·

But then I was like, so what?

I am working and homeschooling FROM HOME, damn hell I need a wine!

It’s not like I drank it all in one night… it’s actually been getting lower over two weeks, so little is my wine consumption lately.

But my reasons were five-fold.

Tomorrow I have the day off work.

Tuesdays are a bit of a Saturday night in our house with Hubbie off too on Wednesdays.

Fuck it, I just wanted to.

Life is short. Read yesterday’s post.

I like wine. Duh.

As much as I was like “damn baby girl’s teacher is gonna share this photo around with all the other teachers!” the other part of me was thinking it’d be a nice little, real representation of life at the moment…

That they are still allowed to laugh about. LOL. Even I am.

Can you just imagine the stuff teachers see, hear, and are exposed to? Who knows what your child has said to them, about you??? ðŸ˜ŪðŸ˜ŪðŸ˜ŪðŸ˜ēðŸ˜ēðŸ˜ē

#1577 Day 79 of getting there: She’s back!

Baby girl has spent 11 weeks at home.

This was comprised of 6 weeks of home schooling.

2 weeks of school holidays.

3 weeks of bullshit.

11 weeks done. Dusted.

But today, baby girl was back at school!

Yes!

She had the best day! Her teacher told me she couldn’t stop smiling.

She told me countless times, that she had the most amazing day.

Hey, I even felt amazing!

Yay! Finally a feeling other than frustration, despondence, sadness.

And there was also, sunshine. 🌞

ðŸĨ°âĪ

#1554 Day 56 of getting there: missing out on shit

Sometimes, hard times get harder.

And that sucks.

Like when isolation restrictions lessen, but you still have to remain isolated.

A few choice expletives are more than necessary, but this is a gratitude blog, so we’ll all use our imaginations for that.

But when you can’t be in the company of loved ones, and you know you are missing out, that the rest of the world is catching up…

I had to do the only thing I could today.

Take a walk.

20200517_151839

Clear the head. Breathe in the co2. Stretch the limbs, feel the sunshine on my face, and then run after Hubbie and baby girl as they suddenly got further and further away from me down the street…

And I felt good. I was pushing past my natural limit, I was making those legs ache, I was gearing myself to get the heart pumping more, the lungs taking in more air.

I was feeling lighter.

And then as I passed a large gum tree, with dozens of chattering birds ahead… the unthinkable happened.

Well, not so unthinkable. Definitely thinkable after today.

I felt wetness on my hands. I stopped. Looked at the drops.

Turned down to observe my top…

And realised, I had been marked.

20200517_152321

Bloody $!*% birds.

How eternally optimistic is our culture, when it tells us that something good, can come out of something bad…

Like that good luck comes from something as crap (pun intended) as when a bird unloads its bowels on you?

How hopeful is that?

Hubbie told me how he got bird shit on him as a kid in primary school. All his friends told him he would get good luck that day…

He went home and he waited… and waited… and waited.

And nothing came.

What a load of SHIT.

I like him, am still waiting….

But at least I got my walk. And at the end of the day, this sunset.

20200517_174333

Now that, gives me hope.

#1530 Day 32 of getting there: raw fish and tropical fruit

Who would even think about putting those two in the same sentence?

Sushi, with mango?

It’s the most random of combinations, and it could only come from the mouth of a child, as the comedic trio of Joe, Carlo and Andrew found out when Joe’s toddler uttered the words while running rampant one day.

Sooshi mango was born. And they have given us plenty of belly-aching, toppled-over, can’t-breathe-no-more massive laughing seshes.

I love these guys. There is nothing better than spending any free time devouring the videos they’ve posted on social media, and fortunately for us all in iso, they’ve been posting A LOT more.

They always make me laugh. At the moment bestie and I tag each other in new videos that come out, but I always end up watching so many more because I just can’t help it.

They mimic the ethnic background I, and so many of my family and friends around us have grown up privy to. Our parents and grandparents, talk and have talked in this abrupt, direct, no-fuss and mixed English kind of way, and a lot of the European descendants that hail from there, can relate to the sketches in their hilarious comedy.

Did I mention they swear? Yes they swear soooo much. And in the language of the people that came before us, it is even MORE funny. Even if you have a pole up your bum when it comes to foul language, you can’t not laugh at this!

(Ok, maybe you still might have a pole up your bum, but you might end up giggling just a bit).

(If you don’t then go away). 😉

I have so many favourites… damn I just can’t choose.

Ethnic Mum Christmas food insults. OMG. I know women who act and talk like this (and even look like this!)

The Concrete.

Supermarket shopping done right at La Manna’s. Oh good God.

When Ethnics say goodbye.

Ethnic Dads in the garden.

Ethnic Dads playing cards.

Oh I just love them ALL!

Do yourself a favour and check them out their YouTube channel… or follow them on facebook and insta.

Oh what the hell. Here’s a taste.

(It took me double the time to write this post due to Sooshi Mango ‘research,’ and now I can’t stop grinning :):):) )