#2041 Time for Twilight

Well, if you haven’t judged me before, get ready to become Judgey Mc Judgeface.

Guess what I watched tonight, on Netflix?

Twilight.

ðŸĪ­

I can’t explain it. Well I can, a little. I saw some short clips from the movies on facebook a while back, and something about it planted a seed in me.

The pale-faced, skin-shimmering, vampire teenage unrequited lust/love seed.

I read the books, A LONG time ago. And then of course there were the movies, which I can say not so sheepishly (because these end up becoming the best memories) that I hung out at the cinema with my friends at midnight, waiting for it to tick over to the next day just so we could watch the new movie as soon as it struck 12am, with like, no kidding, a thousand other girls.

The best, and funniest memories. ðŸĪĢ

Now I’m saying ‘judgey,’ because I know a lot of people raise their eyebrows at stuff like Twilight. They argue, it’s not literature, it’s not well-written, and it’s just a whole lot of pained glances and pining away.

I actually don’t care. To me, it’s entertainment. I liked it back then, and I realised tonight, I actually still like it! I put it on, and even Hubbie found himself getting caught in it, saying “Shh, what did he just say?” He even remembered (yes I dragged him along back in the day) the part where Edward stops the car from slamming into Bella, before it happened… I had even forgotten that part!

ðŸĪĢðŸĪĢ Oh God. I love the guy.

To me, it is YA/vampire, which I don’t mind a bit of considering the Angel fan that I am, and of course I love YA… having the he’s-so-dangerous-I-want-him-but-he’s-bad-for-me trope is a pretty strong one, let’s face it, especially in the teen department where everything is so passion-fuelled and angst-filled already, so the combo is like PWHOAR!

The Twilight series got people reading, thinking… and I think that’s a really good thing. People get sooo riled up about how appropriate or acceptable it is, when really… it’s just a book, or it’s just a movie.

You know, I like Jane Austen too? Shakespeare even? Oh the horror, how can I, how can I put them in the same blog post?!

You don’t have to read it, or watch it if you don’t want to! Fancy that newsflash.

Anyway, if you like me have just gotten some Twilight-feels, you can check it out on Netflix… Until tomorrow. Yep, all four movies finish their subscription with the service, TOMORROW.

Bloody timing. (Pardon the pun).

#2006 The wind of change

I like reading up on my horoscope. And though I take it all with a grain of salt, when my monthly one said that the first half of the Leo month would be, frankly put, CRAP, well I started to see it everywhere.

And hey, don’t blame me, it’s not Leo month’s fault! It’s all in the planets, and their alignment. 🌙☀

It’s THEIR fault. ðŸĪĢ

But just as the horoscope promised, the second half of the Leo season would end on a super sweet note.

I think the winds of change are already here.

I had a full on start to the day with work, and having planned a park date with baby girl, as soon as I was finished we ran out the door, got some takeaway coffee and babycino, some sweets, and started walking to the beach end of Main Street.

But, other than the pleasant, still, sunny air… another surprise.

Someone had paid the coffee forward. Free drinks for us. 💖

The park was beautiful, and it was so evident the atmospheric change. Unlike other Wintry days, there was barely any wind to be felt.

Interesting too, that 5 years ago on this day, we took a leap of faith, into our own wind of change.

We purchased our house exactly 5 years ago!

So much change. Sea change, the wind has changed leaving Winter slowly bidding a goodbye, and the Leo season seems to be changing for the better too.

I for one am totally up for it.

Photo by Faik Akmd on Pexels.com

#1968 The movie-pancake tradition lives on

When I see something like this…

So many memories and people come to mind. I think of catch-ups with my friends, where we’d meet for sweet things and laugh wildly when we all ordered ‘The Hot Ball.’

I think of Hubbie and I in our pre-wedding days. I even had a delicious stack the day before my waters spontaneously broke with baby girl, so any pregnant ladies-to-be can take that to mean you might go into labour if you eat some of their pancakes* (not professional medical advice!)

But mostly, when I see this image, I think of my sister and me.

From as young as I can remember, she would take me to the movies when I was a kid, and then naturally, a visit to The Pancake Parlour would follow.

We would talk about the movie we’d seen, what we loved, and our conversation would naturally flow to everything else in our lives, as these things do when you’re with someone you love and feel so at ease with.

And we would eat, something sweet.

The joke goes that she would be finished with her dessert, and I would be barely half-way through, talking while eating so slowly, scooping the ice cream from the bowl like I had all the time in the world.

We were super lucky today, as baby girl and I got spoiled by my sister for a movie date! The special surprise was my nephew, baby girl’s ‘bestie’ coming along for the day, and we all headed to the cinemas to watch the very sweet Spirit Untamed movie.

But, there was a further surprise after it!

OF COURSE! Pancakes. ðŸĨžðŸĨž

The tradition lives on. 😊😊

And even better, we could enjoy it with our kids, and engage in some fun and especially beautiful bonding time.

Guess what? Things haven’t changed much.

Sister finished first again.

I came in about third, or equal second…

And baby girl hasn’t fallen far from the tree. She hasn’t fallen far, at all.

That is all. ðŸĪĢðŸĪĢ

#1961 Old is new again

I saw a lovely sight today. Something that brought me happy memories.

And the smell… gee, it transported me back to my childhood. I remember walking past it as a kid, and being hit hard by the smoke and mustiness of it all.

My parents old smokehouse.

Only it ain’t looking so old. It’s got a fresh lick of paint, a prime position in their yard, and it is in OPERATION.

It’s fascinating, how as kids all this homemade stuff isn’t fascinating to us.

Smoking meats, making sausages, home-made wine, other brews… ðŸĪŠðŸ˜‚

And yet as we hit adulthood, all of this stuff makes us happy! In my case, I will probably only try a tiny bit of smoked meat, but give me that sweet stuff before it turns into wine ANY day.

Most. Pronounced, M-O-SH-T.

Who knows? Maybe this new-found love for what is old-fashioned, natural and instinctive, will give rise to the next generation stepping up and taking a new interest in making these things…

Of course. It’s guaranteed. 💖💖

#1957 Remembering him, and the memories

A part of me feels like I’m not allowed to write about my uncle, because I had only spent two periods of my life with him.

But today, having learned of his passing, I feel a tremendous amount of sadness for my Mum’s family, while also realising that I am more than qualified to speak about him, because he inhabited some of the most meaningful and memorable parts of my life.

When I was 13 I travelled with my parents overseas. Being a fresh teenager, the thought of meeting family that I hadn’t met before was not exactly thrilling stuff.

And yet those 3 months ended up being the best of my life.

Our home base was at my uncle and aunty’s house, and so we would return there often for days at a time, sometimes weeks, in between our travels around Croatia and the neighbouring countries where our relatives lived.

I remember how much he and my Dad seemed to click. Both fond of drinking the hard stuff at 40%, they loved their grapes, their gardens, and their gadgets. Both natural handymen. It was never too early to ‘cheers,’ and they were often caught having a good ol’ chat.

I remember the garden, the vines above providing ample cover as good as a ceiling. I remember the swing there too, and the kittens that crawled along the roof of these vines, and how I looked up at them.

I remember the ‘bunker’ at the bottom of the house, and I remember the random spa-type apparatus that sat on top of the garage! Me and one of my cousins sat in the empty pool as it were, on a hot Summer’s day.

I remember them taking us out to ice cream in the main centre. I remember us walking the streets, and them telling us where the bombs had fallen, showing us the concrete scars they had left on the road. They showed us where their son had gone to high school and proudly pointed out the court he played basketball in.

I remember more vividly the second time I visited my uncle and aunty, because it was more recent… it was when Hubbie and I were on our honeymoon.

Although it wasn’t yesterday, the memories are far fresher. I had the opportunity to spend time with them, now as an adult, out of the wings of my parents, 12 years on. Hubbie and I sat with them. There was still the bunker, the 40% alcohol, and the cherished garden. And of course, the cats.

I think he had a soft spot for cats.

On the few days we were in town, he kindly played tourist guide, driving us around to see other family members. We saw his favourite fishing hole, and he spoke fondly of his own family, and of his memories with them.

I often found myself staring at him and being amazed at the likeness between him and his son.

But what I remember most, is the day he took us to the train station, as we set to depart from Croatia.

We waved goodbye, and I said we would see him again one day. I watched as he turned, his head bobbing down in a sign of resignation as he walked away.

But that day never came.

I think of all of this, and I send so much love out to my family tonight.

I hope they too hold their own special memories of him that they’re replaying in their minds.

It’s just another sombre reminder that we must grasp each and every day with all our might and all our love.

Photo by Rahul on Pexels.com

RIP, M.G.

#1951 Back to hosting

We have had the longest dry spell.

The ‘hosting’ dry spell.

Sure, we’ve seen people. Gone to people’s houses, caught up outside of homes… but between lockdown 1, 2, 3, and then most recently 4, we haven’t had people over at house properly, since like…

ðŸĪ”ðŸĪ”…

Hmmm. Honestly, not sure.

Tonight, the seal was broken!

Guess with who? 😁😁

Of course… sis and bro-in-law and family.

It’s reminded us of what we love doing so much, and I think the next few months will see an influx of people into our home, all willing, given the dam walls have now crashed down and the water is rushing through.

Happy times, memories, good company.

What more could one ask for? 💖💖

#1927 Northies!

“I am so glad covid is not on our side of town… let it be contained up there in the north,” I said today as Hubbie and I drove across town, towards…

The North.

😎😎ðŸĪĢðŸĪĢ

We had a couple of jobs to do which were pre-planned, so they were kinda hard to get out of amidst current covid craziness. We did our bits and pieces, kept our masks on, sanitised relentlessly, and for lunch went to a place we knew very well…

Northies! Or for those non-locals, Northland Shopping Centre.

Now you can call it ‘Northies,’ or you can be like everyone else and call it Northlands. Everyone I know EVER calls it Northlands, even though I believe in the history of the shopping centre it has never had the s attached to the end.

Just another Australian-ism I guess.

But, it was sweet, it was quiet… we walked the centre…

And I was reminded that almost 21 years ago we were walking the same centre, holding hands for the first time as boyfriend and girlfriend.

Awwww. 💖💖

Now that fact in itself either shows our age, or tells you that we got together young… a bit of both I guess.

It was a lovely couple of hours to while away the day, and who knows, might be the last outing for a while…?

I like to go back in time to reminisce, but standing by the side of someone whose been there for so long, while I do it…

It makes it all the more sweeter. ðŸĨ°ðŸĨ°

#1920 Shiny, happy and BRIGHT

I’ve wanted to travel to Bright for maybe 10 years now.

It’s been the trees. Sure I love the water, and live near the water, but I have a thing about trees.

Big, bold, grand, old, beautiful trees. And Bright is renowned for plenty of those, and in Autumn?

Stunning colours abound.

Greens, golds, oranges, and bright reds… bright reds! Even purple, brown, and then there are all the shades of greens imaginable.

I’ve actually been to Bright, a long, long time ago. I was about 8, and went with my parents and another family, but it was in summer. The photos show heat, swimming in rivers, eating ice creams, and a cute little dog we befriended named Bingo, as well as a New Years Eve celebration complete with fireworks.

Today, we drove to Bright.

What will our photos show?:

Fallen leaves. Trees of every colour. People rugged up in jackets, beanies and scarves. Long track walks and mountains in the distance.

And so far, I am loving it. 💖💖ðŸŒģðŸŒģ

#1918 Art will live forever

I was going through old family photos this evening as I searched for photos of my Dad over the years, for his official birthday today.

I don’t know about you, but I get sucked into a time warp when I start doing this. I go through one year, then another, and another… suddenly I’ll look up from what I’m doing and be like “woah. Where am I?”

Like I’ve just woken up or something.

Photos transport you. I love going through them, and I’m trying my damndest to keep all my photo albums documented and in chronological order, though I’m very behind… but still trying.

And in thinking about photos, I realised that their ability to transport you to different times, and with different people, make them invincible.

They defy time and space.

They live forever.

It immediately made me think of words. Words live forever too. Think of the words you read by a poet 200 years ago… they breathe new life when you quietly repeat them in your mind, the meaning travelling through centuries to make its way to you.

And music. I LOVE music. Think of all the songs you love, from singers and bands that have long now gone, the words and the melodies that you continue to belt out in your car, when you’re doing the dishes, or in the shower… their lyrics and the music continue to live on through you, when you press play on your device, or decide to go acapella, wherever.

Art. Art is what it is. I love art, creativity, in all its forms.

Part of the reason is, IT CAN NEVER DIE. People, words, songs, they will always be revived when they are recalled, read, played.

Of course, they are passionate expressions of creativity, and that is simply the most beautiful thing. Even photography, it captures a moment in time, something that nothing else can quite do, and helps you to recall sudden scents, sights, a dress you used to wear when you were young, or a place you used to visit, and no longer do…

Photos can do all of this, and it was this I was reminded of when passing through the many years of my Dad’s life tonight.

They remind us of all the times of our life, when our own memories fail us.

How many other wonderful things will be captured by photo, that we are yet to live?

How many beautiful words are we yet to read?

And what magical music are we yet to hear?

Beautiful food for thought. 💖💖

Photo by Lisa on Pexels.com

#1917 A special birthday

Check out the numbers on those cakes:

8-0. 80.

Yes. We celebrated my Dad’s birthday today, a day earlier from his actual birthday.

Wow. What a milestone. It’s what I wrote in the card too. Just think about it… all the things you must go through, pass through, live through, to get to that grand age…

I was feeling grateful and fulfilled that we were together today, able to celebrate as family should.

And though life can be hard, and IS hard, and there are moments where you can see more hardship than good, these are the moments you ultimately live for.

The togetherness. The laughter. The love. The food, the drink, the memories, and the D&Ms through all crazy hours…

These are the moments where you thank God/your lucky stars/Karma/yourself, for where you are in life, and who you are with.

And to celebrate my Dad’s birthday today, was the ultimate icing on the cake. LITERALLY.

Happy birthday Dad. We love you. 💖💖💖💖