A Day in the Countryside

The Freedom to Roam

There are so many beautiful places to visit in this world and Australia really does offer more than it's fair share, in my humble opinion.

I have been on the road, and water, for a week now and the loveliness is inspiring.  I can see why the natural habitat has always inspired artists, both great and so so, but it also inspires me to just be more grateful.

Evening on the Murray River

I feel grateful for so many things not least that I can walk, see, hear, taste and smell the variety that a different area brings. My first stop was to make my way to Echuca to board a houseboat up the Murray River.  

This was one of Chris' Bucket List items so I was very pleased to be able to do it for him. As I said last week, these legs may not be the prettiest little legs you have seen, but they got me up that gangplank and onto the houseboat just fine. It was beautiful.

I am grateful that I have the freedom to travel where I want without censure or fear of retribution just because of who I am or what I believe in. 

I am grateful that I can drive - that affords me such a freedom that I am so thankful for.  I can stop whenever I want to and jump out to take a photo....like this just for the thrill of it all

On the roadside at Minyip

I am grateful for the kindness and consideration of others - fellow travellers, incidental folk met in cafes, service providers. A cup of tea, a hand with luggage or just a smile - they make the experience special. Being a solo traveller these little acts of kindness make me feel not so alone. 

I am grateful for the chance to see the artwork of the Silos Art Trail.  They are magnificent, awesome and thought provoking.  Started in 2016 and growing in popularity, these fine examples of Australian artwork invoke a feeling of belonging, not only for the population of these small dots of towns in western Victoria but also the passing traveller, who is reminded again of the importance of belonging.  It matters not how many people you belong to, it matters that the attachment is strong and unconditional.

The silos at Sheep Hills - stunning!

The majestic silos of Brim - the first ones completed in 2016

I was only able to get this photo of the old port at Echuca due to anothers thoughtfulness.  I felt very lucky.

I am grateful for the opportunity, the friendship that instigated this trip and the small things like beautiful weather while we were on the houseboat. 

It is said over and over again but with each year, it resonates more with me ~ It is the little things in life that really count.

And I'm Off

Travel opens your mind while it is spreading your wings

Today I begin another adventure in this my very own Gap Year!

Who knows what is ahead and so it really does pay to grab the opportunites while they are still within grasping distance.  Chris' favourite saying, well one of many really, was "Just Do it" and I think he coined that before so Nike so no royalities grab please.

Just make the booking, just help them out, Lets just go!  So go I will.  

I am doing something that I have not done before - going on the Bass Strait ferry by myself and taking my car.  The freedom of having my trusty, red car will be fabulous.  Want to stop and take a photo of that tree...dont mind if I do! Want to pull over and change the CD, good idea :) Want to leave at the crack of dawn and beat the rush, fantastic.  Not waiting around for another 34 people to get their shit together, just me and myself. 

Minus the Snow...well maybe not in the high country

The main reason for going is to celebrate my beautiful friend Kerry's birthday and to do that we are hiring a houseboat and traversing up the Murray River.  I dont think Kerry knew but this was on Chris' Bucket List so how very fitting.  Chris will be with us in spirit, I know. 

So that's an exciting way to say "Hello 50, here I am." 

After the Murray River houseboat, I am leaving the rest of the party and heading off on my own.

This has been something that I have been wanting to do for about three years ~ Flex my Independence Muscle and have a Road Trip on my own.  I think it will give me back some of the confidence I lost four and a half years ago plus I am feeling stronger and more capable, so now is the prefect time to go. 

My first journey will be travelling west to check out the painted Silos of the Grampian region.  I have a list; I have mapped out my route and I have sought accommodation that will put me right in the heart of the attractions I am visiting.

I am a planner, a lover of lists, a reseracher. Part of the enjoyment for me is the planning and list making.  I like to have paper copies of things; I am not solely reliant on technology to get me there in a timely, tidy manner.  I have a map, a copy of my Air BnB bookings and a diary with places that I want to see.

I know it might seem to you to be a bit anal but this is where Julia Roberts and I  part ways at the fork in the road.  I am not a "Fly By the Seat of My Pants" type gal - well not when it comes to travel anyway.

 

I do love being an organised person.  It gives me comfort and if by chance something goes awry...and it will...then I can handle that too. 

A little sojourn in the Daylesford/Hepburn Springs neck of the woods follows and then down to Teesdale to see my lovely friend from my school days in Wynyard. 

After some rest and recuperation at Chateau Hatcher, I am heading north to Canberra to indulge in my favourite joint apppointment - Mum and Momo.  So I am going to cover some miles and see some sights; meet some new folk and embrace some loved ones that I have not seen for a while.  It should be great fun.

In the words of Vicki the Fabulous  ~ ROCK ON!!

Betty had to stand in for Vick 

A Momentus Birthday

My Cup Runneth Over 

I think I have said before about a song my Mother used to sing all the time when I was a little girl.  It was sung by the man who played Gomer Pyle ~ Jim Nabors.  He had the most melodic voice and so strong. And boy could he hold a note!  That song not only reminds me of my darling Mum but also gives me a nudge to recall how full my cup is of Love.

Look at that cheeky lop sided grin

Mum used to hum this song and sing it when she was wandering about the house doing Mum things.  I loved it and it obviously had a  huge affect on my small self because I still sing it, I used to sing it to Chris and I say it all the time - my cup aint half full, it aint half empty ~ it is brimmming over the top.  Clearly it has become a mantra for me because this was a birthday gift from my sister...

This year  my birthday was an extra special occassion for a couple of reasons:

•                 my first as an unemployed person for about 40 years
•                 Christine, Peter and Alan were here to share it with me
•              I officially began life as a SFR (self funded retiree)
•              my fifth as a widow

And in keeping with the theme of Blessings, this year I felt much more content with notching up another year on my own.  I was thinking about past years this morning and recalling cringe worthy moments.  You know those times when you REALLY wish you could turn back the clock and not say that thing, not push that button, just let the sleeping dog snooze on.  But because we are humans ergo not perfect, there is always something we could have done better.

With the addition of years comes the substraction of giving away those precious fucks.  I am finally, finally, realising that I dont have to give my all to people who dont give me anything; I dont have to look like Meg Ryan just because we are the same age ~ (I am more your Susan Boyle type lady ) and I only have to live up to my expectations and trust me, they are tough enough.

 My legs may not be long, slim and tidy but the places these short, fat legs have taken me have been amazing.

These little legs have climbed up the Great Wall, wandered around Pompeii, walked for miles around fascinating places,  skipped down the Champs Elysees (well skipping is a stretch), waltzed around the dance floor and held me up when I thought I could only crawl. 

These arms with generous fadoobidas have held my Love, cradled precious babies, soothed my darlings, greeted loved ones with big squishy hugs, swum in the Mediterranean; cleaned, cooked, washed, typed, gardened, dug, sewed and knitted and still worked just fine regardless of what they look like. 

For too many years, I have believed the stuff that other people projected about me about not being good enough or was that just my own self projecting what I thought they thought.... I dont know and that's  a bit hard to tease out this morning.  Time is short, lots to do. 

Anyway...this year its about being thankful for what I have.  I am so lucky to have the beautiful family I have, lovely dear friends who do actually care about me, a dear little house, good health, freedom to do what I like, freedom to go where I want to go and a sense of contentment that reminds me life is amazing and it is all about the small stuff.  

Back to Happy

 Where have I been?  What have I seen?  Who have I met? Who have I lost?

Three years since I have sat at this seat in front of the laptop and typed on this platform.  To say that life got in that way is the biggest understatement and I wont try to fill you in with all that has surpassed but needless to say I have been busy! 

Returning from the South Pacific, docking at dawn in Sydney

The most intriguing, surprising and challenging occurrance was my retirement from fulltime paid employment in Deccember 2017.  I had thought I would retire at 60 and be very happy with that but a series of chance remarks, meetings and interventions  gave me the option to retire at 56. 

Next week sees a momentus time in my life...I turn 57! Why momentus - because I can access my superannuation thereby giving me a new source of income.  Sleepless nights, nervous tummies, hand wringing and more conversations than my friends and families  deserve have finally brought me to this position. How blessed am I ~ I know that Lady Luck, God in all his wisdom and fate have all been kind.

Travel, spending precious time with my grandsons, who are adorable, and learning how to be a single retired lady are high on the agenda for the next few months.  Hopefully over the next few weeks I will be able to share with you some of my next advernture:  Next week I am putting my car on the Bass Strait ferry and travelling around Victoria before I head up to Canberra to see my daughter and grandson (SIL will be on training in QLD).
                                              
                                              Oh The Places I Will Go !

Cruising the Pacific - warm swims in beautiful oceans

Life still puzzles me, enthralls me and brings me to my knees - with wonder, amazement and despair.  I am still learning how to be a sucessful widow, a dedicated Mum and Momo, a good friend and a supportive sister.  It is an ongoing work, artform, dedication that I hope will last me to my last black of Lindt chocolate.  So many adventures to go, I hope that I can document them and you can come along with me through the words and pictures. 

Flowers from a friend - the best kind

A Long Time Coming

It has been so long since I wrote on here that I have nearly forgotten how.
So much has happened already this year.  2015 has been very busy.

In February, my sister and I went to Hawaii, that was beautiful.  We had a great time, swimming in the sea, shopping, swimming.  Coming home was horrible because I knew that Chris would not be waiting for me with open arms. I wont ever get used to that. 

When I got home, I found a house that I thought I would like to live in.
I have been mulling over the probabilities of moving one day.  The house that Chris and I lived in for nearly 10 years was too big and too much maintenance for me plus we have stairs.  Stairs and fibromyalgia just don't mix. Funny that!

I had some tenants in the new house for a few months before they changed their minds about living in Tassie and went back to WA. So that pushed all my well laid plans up a few months. 
My house had to go on the market and lots of planning, lists and sorting had to be done....again! Didn't I just do all this 18 months ago?  Oh well, onwards we head. I'm sure it will all work out in the end because I truly believe this is the best thing for me. 

The second year of widowhood is something that I cannot even find the words to describe. If the first year is fast and furious with grief and shock  then the second year is slow and crippling with the realisation that this is it.  This is my life now and I don't really go much for it. 

Every day I still want Chris back and every day the realisation that that will never happen seeps a little more into my soul. 

There is no quick fix and there is no salve for the hurt and the yearning just to see him and hold him again.  I still wonder what, how, when this new life, that I never asked for, will become more bearable. Little by little, I guess.

It has not been all doom and gloom though.  There are definitely joys along the way. Emily and Farooq's baby boy is doing beautifully and growing more gorgeous every day. I know all grandmothers think that, but truly, he is the Worlds Most Beautiful Baby. I have been up to see them and will go again before Christmas.

And we have another BB coming to join our family early in 2016 - so blessed

My brother moved back to Tassie, which was lovely to have him here close by; my son moved into his own home and he is still close by; one step son moved back North of the State and the other moved to Queensland;  poor old Dad took sick with pneumonia and is becoming an old man in front of our eyes but he still is the centre of the family and has been such a wonderful support to me;  my sister had a health crisis and my other sisters daughter had a health crisis; our little dog went to join all those loved pets in Heaven.  

A mixed bag really - but that is the case with us all, isn't it?

And friends - friends both in person and on line have been fantastic.  I could not cope without them.

Cherished

Nearly twenty years ago, I met this extraordinarily ordinary man.  We had both come onto the scene with a fair amount of baggage and hurts.  There were no guarantees and no sure fire way to make a new relationship work or prosper. It was just suck it and see  and hope.

We were both tentative, OK so maybe I dived in head first, but he was tentative.  He didn't want to have his "arse kicked". (He had a way with words. yes?)

As the weeks went on and we could see the potential of a future, we had a few heart to hearts.

I asked my darling, which is what he most definitely was to become, "What do you want out of this relationship?"  He reeled off some of the things he was looking for - companionship, someone to love, someone to share things with, go out together etc.

He asked me what I wanted.

I said, "I only want one thing; I want to be cherished."  

He said,"What does that mean exactly?"  "Well you know, I want to be loved and held in high esteem. I want to be your number one." I wanted to be that highest prize, the be all and end all, the upper most in his devotion and care.  I knew what I wanted I just found it hard to put into words.

So I found the words.  I went to the dictionary and then I embroidered that definition in cross stitch as a reminder to us both for all time.

And so it was.  The benchmark for our lives together.  

This embroidery always hung by our bed and many many, nights I lay in bed and looked at this definition and thought of all the ways that Chris cherished me and showed that devotion and care. I was his treasure and he was mine.   

When Chris was working away, as he very often was, I would look at this word and think of the conversation that we had had so long ago.  

Well just the other night, I was laying in bed, looking up at that picture when I realised something. 

Cherish - take away the E and the H at the end and what does it spell?  CHRIS

And he lovingly fulfilled my request until the day he died.

Luckiness = Love

I was watching a movie the other day - astounding news I know - but it was the soliloquy at the end of the movie by Nathan Lane that got me thinking.  The movie was Nicholas Nickleby (thanks Rennie for the loan). At the Wedding and there is always a wedding in Charles Dickens' novels, Nathan Lane gets up and makes a beautiful speech about happiness and family.

I am so lucky that I have a great family and this is just the immediate members plus Chrissie, of course. Dad is not trying to catch flies, he always talks to the photographer when he is having his photo taken. LOLZA

I digress...what did Nathan Lane say?

                         " Family need not be defined merely by those with whom we share our blood,
                            but by those whom would give their blood."

And I think that is so true.  Over the last six months there has been a lot of people who I would happily now introduce to folk as my sister, my brother, my child. Such has been the incredible outpouring of support and love.

Happily for me, I did actually gain two new children this year;  new sons-in-law. We have also increased the family by two, with more still to make themselves known to us.  It has certainly been a big year.

I don't think that we ever could have dreamed it up in a million years, just how big 2014 would be for the Rossiter/Hawley/Archer households.  Proof again of another little gem from Mr Lane - well really Mr Dickens -

                          "In every life, no matter how full or empty one's purse, there is tragedy;
                            That is the one promise life always fulfills.
                            Thus happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it
                            But to delight in it when it comes;
                            And to add to other peoples store of it."

Such beautiful simplicity but such a concise and lovely way to look at life.  What a pity that life is not always so simple or concise; no neatly little wrapped up parcels that we just have to unwrap and enjoy.

What a shame that our love and emotions cannot be easily distracted from our sorrow.  But what hope can we derive from the ever present knowledge that love, whether right beside us or in our hearts, can not be taken from our memory.

My memories can be a comfort or a burning stone in my side - that constant reminder that the love of my life is not beside me.  I told a work colleague today that I used to truly believe that I was the luckiest lady I knew, the luckiest person in Launceston.   After all what more could I possibly need or want, I had Chris and he loved me.  She said that I was still one of the luckiest people she knew because I had the marriage that a lot of people never get.

So tonight, 24 weeks down a very bumpy old road, I am grateful for family, grateful for love that has been so beautifully given, new friends, dear work mates and a chance to still see myself as one of the lucky ones.

Footnote:  A few of you may be worrying because I haven't written a blog post for quite some time, but I want you to know that I write in my journal every day but that stuff is too raw and personal to share; but I am still writing :)

The Day We Met

It was April 13th, 1995, my brothers 40th Birthday. He was 42 and I was 33. It was a sunny, autumn day. I didn't know it but my life was about to become fabulous.

He pulled up outside and I was watching him approach the house from the safety of my kitchen. He couldn't see me, but I could watch him. I liked the look of him right there!

As he walked up my front path, I could see that he was wary and maybe nervous.  I was excited. He knocked on the door and I let the most wonderful man, not only into my home but into my heart.  That was the beginning of a 19 year love affair that changed us, rewarded us, moved us to tears, frustrated us, made us laugh, completely encapsulated us both and set us free. We had a love that was like no other I had ever had.  I felt safe, looked after, adored, fulfilled, appreciated.

Most importantly of all, I felt cherished.

His name was Chris and as sure as there are leaves on trees and clouds in the sky, Chris was brought to my door because he was everything in a man that I needed.

I can still see clearly what he had on; a muted green shirt, Levi jeans and a pair of casual Diadora sports shoes, tan. He had wavy black hair that was starting to grey at the sides, a moustache and a shy smile.  He had beautiful eyes and elegant hands - apart from the middle finger on his left hand which was missing from the first knuckle down; the result of a childhood accident with a chaff cutting machine.

He came in for coffee and was still there two hours later.  We worked out that we knew some of the same people from our sons playing hockey at the same time, but apart from that coincidence, we had never heard of each other - strange as that is in a small Tassie town.

He had two sons, 13 and 16. I had three children 13, 9 and 6.  He operated his own business in scrap metal recycling and I worked at the local newspaper.
I had been a single Mum for three and a half years. He had been separated for nearly a year.

About an hour after he had left that first day, he called me and said, "So what did you think of me?"  That still makes me smile now. I dare say it always will.  So he was honest, up front, had a sense of humour and a little unsure of himself - what's not to like??

Years later he would tell me that he fell in love with me that day I opened the door and smiled at him. I think it took a bit longer than that, but that's what he said :)

I fell in love with his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his lovely smile and his love for other people, my children included.  Many years later I would tell my sister, "I will love Chris till the day I die, if for no other reason than for what a wonderful father he has been to my kids."

It is hard not to love  a man so much when he clearly loves your children and treats them as if they were his own. Over the years he would do his best to be the kind of loving Dad that they needed so badly. I cannot remember him ever not being there when they needed him, with just the right words and the right amount of care.

My love for that man is still as strong as it was on March 22, 1997 - the day we married. In fact I believe the love got stronger, deeper, more comforting and more precious with the passage of time.

In two weeks time, I have another hurdle to jump. Chris' birthday. I don't yet know how we will remember that day. However, as I recall now all the happy birthdays that we have celebrated together, I only hope that those memories will one day make me happy again, not sad.

D Day

and that would translate to Departure Day.

We all knew it was coming; we have been planning for it for nearly three months and then all of a sudden it has snuck right onto my shoulders and gripped me around the neck without a fanfare or some kind of emotional warning bell.

At this very moment as I write this, I am still pretty calm.  Mind you, don't know how that feeling will transpire at 6 p.m. as I pull out of the drive at Franmaree Road and head towards the boat in Devonport.

I think that I would have been a lot more excited about the actual trip if Chris had not been laid up since he got home mid December with a bad back. That has put a dampener on everything, I gotta say. 

But I still feel optimistic and I still feel blessed and hopeful.  I am also very, very thankful. As the regular readers amongst you can corroborate, it has been a struggle at times. I am just so grateful that my wonderful family and friends have pitched in and supported me in any way they could.  What on earth would I have done without you all;  giving me your blessings and encouragement.  Making me laugh when all I really wanted to do was bawl and then letting me bawl when I really needed to. 

I can't really imagine what it will be like to leave and realise that it will be for quite a long time.  I know that we are coming back for Emily and Farooq's wedding, but it will be different  - it won't be our home anymore. And I don't think that it ever will be again.

We have lived here for 10 years - the longest I have EVER lived anywhere apart from Mum and Dad's farm at Boat Harbour.  So to say I am attached to this house is an understatement. I have so many happy memories here and so many sad times as well.  But even the bad wasn't that bad; the good was bloody fantastic though!

Life is a queer old bird, isn't she? The triumphs and tribulations, the sickness and health (that we take for granted, most of the time) and the joy that we experience just in the everyday mundaneness of  the daily grind. The funny little things that make us laugh till we pee ourselves and our sides ache - or in my case, wheeze uncontrollably till I need Ventolin!  Once I start my Precious Pup impersonation, it just makes the kids laugh more :)

But as Danika says, " I Love Us!" I really do.  I love the way we stick by each other, I love the way that we know each other so well and can read each other so well. We know what we need before anything is said.  I also love that we still learn things about each other all the time. I love them all so much and what is particularly beautiful is I KNOW they love me back.  Really what more can one middle aged rotund little lady need??

One of the most influential books that I have ever read was by A.B. Facey, "A Fortunate Life".  It resounds so well in my heart because that's exactly how I think of my life.  So very, very fortunate; so full and so lucky. 

I will do my best to keep you up to date with what is happening along the way, but as internet connection may or may not be sketchy, bear with me :)

So as Chris and I depart our beloved Tassie soil and make our way West, I just want to thank Jonathan, Danika, Emily, Shaun, Farooq, Kerry, Debbie, Terry, Angela, Di and Dad, plus my lovely nieces Alarna, Claire and Emma - for your love, for your help, for your advice and caring and for the hugs and kisses that have held me together. 

Famille - mon amour, ma vie 

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday Danika and I drove down the coast to Wynyard to see Dad. Most of you know that Dad still lives by himself and is totally independant at 93.  He keeps in pretty good health and always feels better in summer. He cooks his own meals , does his own washing etc and makes jam, bread and pickles. 

    

 Dad in the jumper I knitted him last year - he said it was so big,

 I could give it to David Foster - cheeky bugger!

I rang him Tuesday to tell him that we would be coming down for a visit and he said that he was worried that I might already have left as he knew that it was coming up to leaving day soon. 

I would never have left the state without seeing Dad first.

We had a lovely few hours together talking and reminiscing.  When Danika and Shaun drove home just prior to Christmas, they came through the centre of Australia. Part of the trip was a visit to Uluru (Ayers Rock) and so Dad was telling Danika about the time that he and Mum went to Ayers Rock (as it was then). I told Danika that Dad bought a t-shirt  the night before he climbed the rock, that said  "I climbed Ayers Rock!"

He has always been like that, if he says he is going to do something, then he does it.

So as I was saying goodbye to Dad, I told him to take care of himself and not to overdo it, etc etc. I also said to him, "and always remember how much I love you!"

If there is one thing that I have learnt over my 52 years, it is never miss an opportunity to tell people you love that you do. I tell my friends, I tell my kids, I tell my sisters and brother and I tell my husband.  And when I tell people I love them, I mean it. 

In my fortunate life, I feel so lucky to still have my Dad; to have sisters and a brother to love and have as friends; I feel blessed to have friends that listen to me, support me and make me laugh when I'm blue. I am blessed to have three wonderful kids without whom I just could not have made it through the last couple of months. So telling them I love them is important. I would not want them to ever doubt the depth of my love for them.

We only have four more sleeps now till Departure Day.  Those antelopes are galloping again and I am only too aware that yesterday was just the start of the hard goodbyes. 

I hope and pray for the courage I need to be brave.

A Half Packed House.....

is such a dreary sight.  The saddest room of all is The Playroom.

The Playroom is my sewing room.  My little Nirvana; my retreat; my own private Heaven on earth.
It used to be filled with beautiful fabrics, set out in lovely piles on the shelves, just waiting for a kind hand to smooth over any wrinkles. I have a custom made cutting table with plenty of baskets and shelves to hold all my requirements.  The sewing machine sits right in front of the window, so that I get the best light possible. All my tools are at the end of my fingers.  A lot of planning and time has gone into setting up The Playroom so it is just right.

My Playroom has a CD player so that I can while away the hours listening to music or an audio book. As we have previously established, I love doing two things at once and am always hurrying, so being able to listen to a book and sew at the same time, aah bliss! :)

Right now though my sanctuary is in a mess.  It is turned all upside down; there are half packed boxes, stacks to be sorted and piles to be put into the correct storage container.  It is not my nirvana anymore. It is a rose thorn stuck under my fingernail!

Look at all those sad, half empty shelves

I cant help but feel really sad while I am in there packing it all up.  I have spent 100s of hours happily in there over the last 9 years. I have made countless quilts for people - relatives, friends; those having bubbas, birthdays or weddings. It has given me a lot of comfort that room.

Whenever I make a quilt for someone, I always spend those hours of sewing thinking about whom I am making it for, remembering times that we have spent together. I wonder whether or not they will like the colours and pattern that I have chosen and how they will use the quilt; will they put it on their beds, throw it over a couch or put it away in a cupboard (that's my worst case scenario).  I make all my quilts with love in every stitch.

So my peaceful retreat is being pulled apart and boxed up.  I just hope that when we get to Karratha, I can again set up a little nook that I will feel creative and spurred on to again make lovely things for the family.  Dresses for the girls, kitchen bits and bobs, quilts for new babies etc.

The rest of the house looks like a tip as well, with boxes piled up all over the shop; all my  little precious things have been packed away and the pictures that I love so much have all been bubble wrapped and either going to storage or some with us. I have even taken the quilts off the chairs and sofa! Looks bare doesn't it?

And then there are all the goods waiting to go to new homes via the Goodwill shop. I have hidden that behind the sofa, looks like two car loads to me :(  More to come yet once I hit the kitchen, yikes.

But at least we have progress People! and that's a marvellous thing.  

There is a lot that I cannot pack yet, as we still need to use those things. The kitchen will be the last to go I think.  When Daughter D and SIL* to be No. 2 arrive home, then we will have a change over day - they will unpack their things and we shall pack ours.  The removal van is booked for the same day we go on the boat, January 13th.

More good news is that I have finally received a quote for the car from Adelaide to Karratha (hands in the air, waving!).  The Customer Service Officer said "oh you have ages to go yet!." I know that but I like to get things ticked off early and sorted :)  Could nearly buy a car for the cost, but oh well it has to be done.

Well I think that I have done quite enough for one day. I might go and clear a space in a chair and do some knitting while I watch a DVD. 

*Son In Law

Raindrops on roses....

Aaah, No that's Julie Andrews' list mine is much more contemporary.

Ten years ago my son had us answer a questionnaire about our favourite things.  He, like me at this time, is cleaning out his living quarters; AKA downstairs! While he was going through some old files, he found the lists from ten years ago and they made very interesting reading.

His list comprised of such things as favourite drink, food, music, films, actors, past times, people and thinkers plus many more.  As I reviewed my answers, I realised that not a hell of a lot has changed.

Colin Firth, Bruce Willis, Garth Brooks, Jimmy Barnes. Monet, Brett Whiteley (not the politician), fried rice and Western Australia all continue to feature heavily in my list today as they did then.

A few dismissals: Andre Agassi, Colin Friels, Minette Walters, Sambucca and vanilla coke. Somethings do not get better with age.

My five favourite people are still my husband, children and father, closely followed by the rest of our lovely big family and dear friends.

My favourite past times are still patchwork, reading, visiting friends and sewing.  I can now add to that list knitting (*again), Facebooking and getting messages from the kids via Viber.  Deleted from that list are shopping, I mean really, what is the point, I would rather put that money towards a holiday (and spend up big in Paris!!) and sadly gardening - my back just wont play that game anymore.

This sojourn of looking back got me thinking about how we age and change and the choices we make now.  I remember a conversation that I had with one of my sisters about 15 years ago.  She asked me how old I felt. "Well since I turned 18, maybe a little older,  I don't really feel much older. "  If she were to ask me that now, the answer would be very different.

While I certainly do not feel my age mentally and emotionally, I most certainly feel it physically, but that could be accounted for with having a chronic painful disease. Some days I feel 110!  But in my heart and mind, I am still that young woman.  Still unsure of myself at times, still needing the reassurance of my family and still longing to be a better version of myself, every day.

It is hard work being a person who is never really satisfied with ones self.  Is there anyone out there who is? It reminds me of that cliche, 'I regret nothing; if I could do it all again, I wouldn't change a thing.'

This statement just astounds me.  My life has been full of mistakes and hurts; lost opportunities and heartbreaks.  I would change plenty!  I would change all the times I have disappointed people;  I would change all the senseless fights I had with loved ones for trivial, pitiful reasons; I would change my lifetime of bad eating habits; and I would definately change things I have said or done with the my children. I regret those things but I don't cling to them as a kind of hall pass for not making changes or amends.

Hindsight is a master that none of us can follow. So all the learnings that I have tallied up over the last 10 decades will just have to keep adding to the whole, because I cannot go back and re-do the regrets. Having said that, I do believe that we can't live our life through regrets.  It's like I said, it's not a hall pass to not try and improve the here and now.

But after all the years of change and fluctuations, I am comforted to know that deep down, I am still the same person. I am still a dag, still make people laugh, still trying. I am still me and I still love Garth Brooks!