Our little trip to Melbourne and back was a very last minute decision, but so timely. We had planned a longer road trip for this time, but Tom's new retail job put a spanner in those works and it looked like that plan was off entirely. It was so exciting when we realised that we could fit in an abbreviated version of that break. 

This trip proved to be a break that we needed more than we even knew. The distance we travelled distanced us also from the burdens and stresses of the day-to-day and brought us some perspective that we could bring back home. We were able to live fully and completely in the moment and it was a glorious reminder of the importance of time spent together, of time out, of time to just be. 

We sang to bad nineties songs and classic hip hop and bickered over lyrics (I still maintain that the words to TLC's Unpretty sound more like "but at the end of the day I have no self esteem 'cos I'm so stupid"). We stopped to look at silly things on the side of the road and I took a thousand unnecessary photos of Tom's hands as he drove. 

 

We managed to stop in a lot of different little towns along the way. On Christmas day we had a little picnic lunch in Tailem Bend and then continued through to Naracoorte where we spent the night in Tom's sister's house. We drank beers outside and watched the sun set and dreamed together about the house we will one day have and the black subway tiles I am desperate to install in the imaginary kitchen. 

We managed to stop in a lot of different little towns along the way. On Christmas day we had a little picnic lunch in Tailem Bend and then continued through to Naracoorte where we spent the night in Tom's sister's house. We drank beers outside and watched the sun set and dreamed together about the house we will one day have and the black subway tiles I am desperate to install in the imaginary kitchen. 

 

The sun was setting as we left for the last leg to Melbourne. It was something of a miracle that we made it to South Yarra, what with my poor navigational instructions, Tom's entire lack of an internal sense of direction and the fact that the gps and both of our phones were flat as we made it into the city.

We walked through Gosch's Paddock (which is not a paddock, so you shouldn't mislead me to believe there might be sheep grazing outside Olympic Stadium, Melbourne!) to Swan Street and had a beer at the Corner Hotel. 

I rose early the next morning, made myself a coffee and brought it along for a long meandering stroll through the Botanic Gardens. A lot of people were running around the Tan, but I was quite happy to take my time, sip my coffee, and stop to read about interesting plants I came across. Under those beautiful tall trees I felt so small and at the same time so connected with the world around me. I took a lot longer than I had anticipated; it was blissfully quiet and peaceful and I took some time to reflect on the year I'd had and the one to come as I explored. 

Upon my return, Tom and I walked to Swan again to have a coffee (dad has a great machine but we like to sit and watch people sometimes) and pick up a couple of ingredients for breakfast. Tom made the most delectable scrambled eggs with baby spinach, bacon, and slow-cooked tomato. I felt torn momentarily between a desire to fit as much as possible into our only full day in the city and a wish to maintain the relaxed feel of the previous two days of the trip. We opted to take our time and just bask in the lack of responsibility and the change of scenery. It was the best thing we could have done.

We walked to Chapel Street, cursed the after-Christmas sales for filling the street with teenage girls with a thousand colourful shopping bags hanging off their arms and settled into a nice pub for lunch and wine. We met a couple of nice guys who told us brilliant stories about partying in London and Berlin in the eighties and how the clubbing scene changed in the aftermath of the Wall coming down. After a few beers we were lazy and just took the tram to meet Tom's old school friend, Cushing, at Richmond Station. They saw De La Soul that night in St Kilda and I wandered back into the Gardens to see Gravity at the Moonlight Cinema. 

On our way home I insisted on spending some time in nature, so we went through Creswick again and found a forest to explore. An inexplicable wave of something rather like sadness overcame me in this beautiful place, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. What was that feeling? It was terrible and it was blissful all at once and I felt as though I might be rooted to that spot, lost in that moment, for all the remaining days of my life. And then, in a flash, it was gone and I was with my love and we were ready, so ready, for whatever the coming year might throw at us. This trip had cleansed us and readied us and we are so excited and determined and the rest of our trip home is punctuated with discussions and plans for the future, for this year and the many years to come. 

 

 

christmas celebrations

I had a whole post written about our first Christmas celebration of the year because it actually occurred almost an entire fortnight before the day itself. In the craziness of the lead-up to Christmas, though, it never got finished or posted. One of my resolutions for this year is to be a better blogger, but more on that in a post later this week.

We celebrated early with Tom's family because his sister, Millie, & brother-in-law, Ben, would be (should I now say were?) holidaying in Vietnam with Ben's family for Christmas.

I love Tom's family. I love how his Grandma can't hear anything, but barely wears her hearing aids (despite her son-in-law being an audiologist). I love how she makes fun of herself and I love the stories his Mama (other grandmother) tells about being brought up by Catholic nuns and going to dances hoping to meet a soldier and the long line of girls kissing their suitors goodbye outside the hostel just before curfew on a Friday night. I love how well everyone gets along and how Tom's parents welcomed my mum to the festivities and how openly they welcomed me to their Christmas festivities two Christmases ago.

We started with an array of dips and fresh bread form the markets and then moved onto fresh oysters and prawns. There was an outrageous amount of food for dinner even though there were only ten of us. Turkey, lamb, pork, steak, roast vegetables, potato bake, three or four salads ... it went on forever. The lemon tart I made for dessert was a hit, too.

My favourite part of the evening came after dinner, though. Armed with wine and santa hats we toured the neighbourhood Christmas light displays. Ben and I developed a rating system with bonus 'trick points' for installations that made good use of flashing light patterns.

On the 22nd, Tom and I hosted Orphan's Christmas for my two best friends and their partners. The night involved a failed attempt at a light walk like the one we enjoyed with Tom's family. Unfortunately no one in our area seems to care much for Christmas so it ended up being a wine-time walk with no lights to speak of. Nevertheless, the night was perfect. Tom made a roast lamb and I made another lemon tart (because if it ain't broke, don't fix it). Good company and good conversation is the best kind of christmas.

On Christmas Day itself, we went to my mum's for brunch. I love Christmas brunch with my family. Always featured are my two favourite dips, warm croissants and seemingly endless amounts of smoked salmon. It was the perfect way to spend Christmas day. My dad was over from Melbourne so he even came too which made it even better. It's the first Christmas with both of my parents for about six or seven years I think. We drank mimosas in the sunshine and ate fruit and I taught my Popple to use his new ereader and my Nana rolled her eyes at his acquisition of yet another gadget that she cannot understand.

We spent the remainder of Christmas day driving to Naracoorte and then drinking beers in the garden as the sun set. Along the way we just had to stop and take a picture of this sign:

Hope you all had wonderful Christmases and spent time with those you love.

Back in a day or two with some words about and pictures of our little road trip. xx

some rambling thoughts on sickness and twenty-three

I've been dreadfully sick for over a week and am only now beginning to feel human again. When I get sick, my body doesn't allow half measures. I am fraught with nightmares and voices and a whole myriad of inexplicable weirdness.

But finally, finally, I feel better and brighter and this is only aided by the beautiful weather today. I'm sitting in my favourite spot under the Magnolia tree surrounded by colour. The garden is overflowing with wild flowers and the low rumbling buzz of happy bees.

 

It was my birthday on Thursday. I was beginning to feel better, but only slightly. Only the day before I had returned to work only to be entirely overwhelmed by vertigo and nausea. I went to lunch at Semaphore with my mum, nana (who celebrates her birthday on the same day) and my sister. It has become painfully obvious that I am looking into my future when I'm with those women. My mum is becoming more and more like her mother with time and I am becoming more and more like mine. Soon I'll be that strange woman making conversation with every child she sees and anyone standing in line in the supermarket with her. I had a great birthday, first with those three incredible women and then with Tom. I needed a long nap in the middle of the day, but my birthday marked a considerable improvement in my health, which was a nice surprise birthday gift.

We finally got to the end of Breaking Bad and were both thoroughly satisfied by the ending. We have had many debates about Walt, for whom Tom maintained sympathy throughout the series and I grew to loath more and more as it went on.

I'll give twenty-three some more thought over the weekend. I'm not sure if I should be marking the occasion with a "twenty-four before twenty-four" list or a dedicated theme for the year to come or to just let it pass as a milestone of it's own.

How do you like to mark another year of your life?

Breaking Bad & Birthday Week

We're totally late to the party, but Tom and I are just about to start season five of Breaking Bad (no spoilers, please!) and we are completely obsessed. We're planning a marathon session for the last few episodes involving Los Pollos Hermanos Chicken à la Tom (maybe this?) and blue cocktails à la Georgia. (I like to stick to the part of the menu that will never fail to please)

It's my birthday on Thursday and since I have told Tom not to get me anything this year and because I am a great believer in the birthday week, Tom had announced to me a whole week of celebrations are in store. He knows just how to make me feel special. Unfortunately I'm starting this Birthday Week having just gotten over a virus and somehow swapped it with a mighty headcold that makes me feel like everything is very far away from me and kind of ... fuzzy.

catchup

Whatever happened to three posts a week? I've written about as many unfinished drafts, but nothing has felt right to publish. I hate that I haven't blogged for a week; I feel like I need to make the 'comeback' worthwhile.

I'll get back into the rhythm this week; I made a promise to myself at the beginning of the year to post regularly and I want to keep that promise. But for today, just a bit of an update and a few recent photos of some simple joys I've enjoyed of late.

So, since we last spoke, Tom finished his thesis. We pulled a couple of all-nighters at the end (I helped by looking over the grammar & making the formatting uniform), but it's done! He still needs to give a presentation and defend the thesis, of course, but the hard part is over.

This is what 6am in a freezing University office looks like:

Tom's studying hard and I'm contemplating murder. I don't deal quite as well without sleep.

We took a couple of days off in which we wore ugg boots and watched children's movies and drank vodka and generally just relaxed at home, per Tom's request.

Rainy days are my favourite days.

This flower seems to have mutated or something because the leaves and the petals have grown together. Tom was kind enough to feign interest when I dragged him over excitedly to show him.


And look, he's on a bridge!

Proper posts very soon. x

words and getting older

I feel like I've lost my way in regards to this blog. What was it that I hoped to achieve from this space? I've almost forgotten.

A small part of me always grieves for that girl. So young, she could never know how truly young she was. And though that time of crippling loneliness passed in what now feels like a blink of an eye, those months will feel like an eternity to her. How I wish to sit with her in that beautiful sanctuary that felt so many miles from the ugliness of the world. I would tell her tales of a wonderful life since her demise. But she is gone. Time has stolen her away from me and I will never be able to tell her how truly magnificent she really was.

I haven't been blogging much lately, things have been just slightly askew. I could not figure out what was missing, but something was off. It turned out to be more than just a little something. Purple and green are the colours of the aliens I used to draw as a child. How strange it is that as an adult I must take pills of those colours every day. This past week has shown me that my need for them has not waned. Not yet. I must be more diligent. I must be more responsible with my most precious of organs. I had forgotten that sadness. How did it not occur to me that my constant headaches might be a cry for help, for those synthetic hormones that keep me balanced. It can be hard to find joy when all you feel is pain. I cried to Tom today "it hurts so much" and he thought I referred to my head, but it is life that causes the most pain.

that's outrageous

We went to a great party on Friday night creatively themed "That's Outrageous". We drank a myriad of home-made flavoured spirits (including nutella!) and home-brewed beer & cider that were in dangerously endless supply. I chased a cat dressed as a dragon. It didn't like me very much. A joyous evening was had by all.

secrets and solitude

Here's a little something I wrote a long time ago. Time passes and she feels like an old lost friend, but this is a story about myself.



"I just think we should distance ourselves from her." She took a considered sip of her cappuccino, careful not to tamper with the perfect froth sitting on top, placed the cup back on it's saucer and turned to the group. "What do you think?" She was not looking for a consensus, rather daring someone to object.

And so it was that I lost every friend I had made at school, without my even knowing. 

I was seventeen years old when I suffered the worst of my bullying. The teasing of my Primary years proved to be nothing when I later encountered the ripple effect of a simple say-so from the leader of a crowd. 

I returned daily to the cafe where my ostracism was decided. It was a beautiful place to sit quietly. In the middle of the most commercial and plastic part of the city I had found a sanctuary. This place was a storey above the noise of it's surrounding shopping Mecca. High ceilings and white walls lined with furniture and an endless supply of caffeine and cake. I would nurse the same coffee for hours with a notebook balanced on my knee and a watchful eye looking out for those I still foolishly believed friends. I was not there for myself, I was there in the hope that I might bring back the days I had only glimpsed, of a friendship forged over coffee cups and ashtrays on a balcony above the hubbub of the city. Hindsight proves that a wide berth had been forged around this shop in the daily activities of these former friends. My presence rendered their once-regular a no-go zone. But I wasn't to learn of this for many months yet, and thus I created my new lonely home with company, not solitude, in mind. 

"I collect people." She nodded to the surrounding group of contrived eccentrics. "I have an artist friend, an actor, a singer, a couple of  dancers and now," she had looked to me, "I will have a writer." She rattled off the list like a proud mother, as if their creative achievements might in some way be attributed to her. Perhaps she wished herself their muse. Perhaps she was just like me, trying to prove to herself that she had value. 

How does your garden grow?

Otherwise known as: tales of a nosy neighbour

It's incredible that anything grows in our garden when our nosy neighbour insists on ripping everything up when we're not looking. These onion-like bulbs shoot up every winter and bloom with tiny white flowers. They're cute enough, they're not weeds, and Tom & I would prefer them to a patch of soil. Nosy Neighbour, however, likes a tidy garden (no matter whose garden it is, apparently) and spends many hours imposing that upon us. She rips these out of the ground and then wanders around to our backyard to use our green bin.

No, she does not own half of the garden. No, we never asked her to wander around in our private yard. Yes, she thinks she's doing us a favour so it's difficult to ask her to leave us alone.

Our landlords happen to be Tom's parents, and they're not too fond of Nosy Neighbour either. She has a very obnoxious habit of telling us all off for our approach to the gardening. We're a bit more laid back than the original garden allowed, as it was designed for the hills or Melbourne, but certainly not the 'driest state on the driest continent in the world'. So we've let some things die and planted some other things and given up on the maintenance of a cottage garden that simply cannot thrive without tripling the water bill. And perhaps she finds that disappointing because it was a beautiful garden, but it was also the sole love and project of the lady who lived here before us.

Well, last week she pulled out my passionfruit plant. Just because she does not recognise it doesn't mean its a weed! I was looking forward to passionfruits in summer! I've started to think that this has gone on long enough, we need to reclaim our space.

Any suggestions for dealing with this?

finally.

The assignment we thought would never end finally has. Even his thesis cannot compare to this ridiculously involved and time-consuming waste of twelve thousand words. (Most of which I had to type as he dictated. I honestly have no idea how he has made it through two degrees as a two-finger typer.)



Last night we drank wine, watched Game of Thrones and basked in the relief of some stress-free time together. Tom bailed on a game of Scrabble claiming that his brain was fried from the assignment, but we all know it's because I was wiping the floor with him. I finished the game against myself and he watched and teased me for being such a dork for enjoying having such an equally matched opponent for once.

We both agreed that we should instigate a new rule wherein all computers are off by nine and we spend time actually together and free from silly distractions every night before we head to bed. I'm not entirely sure that we're better off being so constantly connected and contactable. It's far too easy now to be in two places at once. We need to switch off more in order to be present. I do think that part of the reason life gets overwhelming at times is that it is non-stop - you can take work and study and every other stupid distraction with you. It's worth making the effort to step back from all of that and be mindful. An evening ritual that does not include checking emails and RSS feeds and googling the ridiculous questions I don't immediately need to know the answer to is a good place to start, I think.

Flash mobbin' (as you do)

You might remember that back in April I was part of a flashmob with Reproductive Choice Australia. Well, here's the video I promised. I'm the one in lace leggings and green boots, and that sexy blonde beside me is my wonderful mother. I had a lot of fun jiving with mum for a cause I support.

thoughts on presence and priorities

I've been staring at a blank screen for ten minutes. Since yesterday I've been nursing that inexplicable feeling that I have forgotten something important. Everything is ever-so-slightly off-kilter, but nothing is  actually different.

A naive part of my mind believes that there is some sort simple solution to this unease - something I've overlooked that will bring back that feeling of wholeness and balance of the last week. A few surprise bills and a less-than-joyful shift at work should not be enough to ignite that feeling. I convince myself of my own frailty and resent myself for it when it proves true. 

Despite this brief period of mild and unnecessary anxiety (which is probably merely a result of exhaustion), life has been great lately. That balance I referenced was real and significant and it gave me a greater sense of my own priorities. Last week reminded me of the value of creating and nurturing healthy habits and taking time to be fully present. It's taken us most of Tom's honours year to realise how important it is to fully switch off every now and then. Honours stress would have been greatly reduced by one full night a week of completely switching off and being present. On Thursday night we didn't even discuss the things we each have due or the burden of these demands and were just fully present in each other's company. I hadn't even realise until that moment how rare it has become. By living together, we are able to slip short respites of joy in between the other demands in our life - but it is so rare that we focus wholly on being together for the entire evening. We both felt refreshed reminded of the value of truly being with one another when we are together.

We've been looking at our priorities now and into the future. What we want for our life together really just comes down to simplicity and joy, but on a more practical level we've decided that these require financial security, maintainable habits to simplify house upkeep, slowing down and spending more time being fully present together. We need goals to work towards and exciting things to look forward to. We really don't need a lot. It's the little things that matter the most. In regards to financial security, it's becoming clear that I'll need a new job; there just aren't enough shifts available at the bar and with winter it will be even less predictable and sustainable. I've known this for a while, but the simplicity and comfort have stopped me from really doing a great deal about it. I'm determined to put in some real effort and secure something as soon as possible.

Life is good. That feeling is slipping away, as if all I'd forgotten was to look at all the good in my life. 

twenty things you may not know about me

Here, in my digital corner of the world, you mostly see the introspective, the often over-analytic part of my personality. I am not always this thoughtful or eloquent. I spend a lot of my time singing everything I am doing - "washing the dishes. washing the dishes. let's all wash the dishes. the dirty, dirty dishes." - and giggling inappropriately like an overexcited child. So to give you a different insight, a more well-rounded perspective of who I am, I shall give you twenty little pointless and possibly banal tidbits about myself that most of you would not know. (Also, some embarrassing photos from when I was a teenager. Enjoy.)

001. I am terrified of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Or more specifically, the child catcher I have always known as the Man-Witch. I first watched that film when I had a terrible bout of the flu as a child and the already ominous scene had a whole new level of scary added in my fever-ridden state. I still get knots in my stomach watching that film.

Ugh, he gives me the heebie jeebies.

002. I cry uncontrollably in sad parts of movies. Uncontrollably. It's not cute or pretty and Tom think's its ridiculous that I get so emotional about fictional events and characters. 

003. I wore the same olive green flowergirl dress for two years straight. Day in, day out. My parents would wash it while I slept and I'd wear skivvies underneath in winter. (I was about three, okay?)

004. I read my horoscope every week even though I dont believe in them.

005. I have a stick & poke tattoo on my ankle. When I was eighteen, my friends and I gave each other tattoos with sewing needles and Indian ink. It was horrifyingly painful and if I ever get another tattoo it will definitely be done professionally.

C giving M a tattoo

006. I was a nanny. I took care of five girls under ten, the youngest two being twin babies. I have never been so exhausted or had such great upper body strength.

007. Until this year, I had never run for more than 200m straight. Fitness remains a mystery to me.

008. I probably know more about Harry Potter than anyone you know.

009. I am clumsy. Dad once told me that I'm like a foal - I look like I should be graceful, but I am frequently far from it. I walk into door frames all the time and I can't catch. I've broken more than a few (full) bottles of spirits at work.

010. I vote below the line. 

011. I wish I could delete Facebook. My boss won't let me because we have a staff page on there, but it's the only thing I use it for.

012. I was once diagnosed with OCD, but I've since decided that I'm just a person who likes straight lines and to get a job done. If you're going to clean, why wouldn't you do a deep clean?

013. I was desperate for blue hair as a child. When I was eight or nine, mum started to let me use those eight-wash hair dyes and my favourite was blueberry, which was more purple than blue but I was happy enough.

014. I hate the word 'baby' as a term of endearment. It creeps me out. Babies are tiny people.

015. I've always been a teacher's pet. I'm still friends with my high school politics teacher.

Igor, my politics teacher, & I at my graduation. I made it my profile pic for a while & everyone thought he was my dad.

This is my dad...
looking proud of me:

looking at a camera with me:

016. I have broken three bones in the most embarrassing ways possible. I fake-fainted and broke my right arm when I seven, I broke my coccyx by falling off a tall stool I was foolishly standing on, and at Christmas I fell down the stairs and broke my big toe. 

017. I went through a 'hippie phase' as a teenager. My school was in the middle of the CBD and based on a University structure, so very laid back - we used to skip around the city wearing fisherman pants and no shoes. I went vegetarian and didn't wash my hair for nine months because I was 'balancing the natural chemicals'.

018. When I was sixteen, I let my drunk friend cut all of my hair off with Crayola scissors. Surprisingly, it worked out quite well and I kept that pixie cut for two years.

There's my pixie cut, and my adorable 'hairdresser' on the right. 

019. I confuse memories with dreams. I have such vivid dreams that I've often been known to assert them as memories from real life with complete conviction.

020. I am a mad researcher. If something seems interesting, I will research the hell out of it until I am a temporary expert. I say temporary because I mostly retain useless factoids and forget the 'big' details.

So now you know me a little better. Or at the very least you now know a few embarrassing things I have done in the past. Cheers for indulging me. I hope this was remotely interesting; I always enjoy these kind of 'reveal' posts from other bloggers.

Perhaps you'll do one of your own and give me a link so I can get to know you too? 

the hydrosphere

Tom has been practicing for a speech. I've heard it so many times over that I could almost give it myself. It's a nonsense script that I can run through in my head, but so many of these hydrogeological terms are completely alien to me.

"strontium isotopes do not undergo significant mass fractionation ..." 

It is a whole other language to me, the words of which I still do not entirely believe exist.

Perhaps we work so well together because we belong to such different worlds, our minds work in such different ways and we see the world from such distinctly different (but aligned) perspectives. We wear different lenses but we believe in the same simple truths. Our different paths lead us to the same conclusions - or at least to interesting debate, which is half the fun in itself, is it not?