Blog or die!
picture by Plasticsturgeon
Yes, I have been slack. I forget how important it is to blog routinely, so that I stay fresh and fluid with my thoughts and feelings. Truth is, my life is in upheaval and has been for the past several months. I’m still reeling.
First, mother-in-law had a serious asthma attack, which she survived, but she is now bedridden and feeble. I surprise myself, using that word, ‘feeble’. She would have hated anyone using that word with reference to her.
And I am still dealing with the emotional fall-out from her near miss, and how my blogging about her here hurt some family members who felt it was too private to blog about. They were right. I hope they can forgive me.
Journalling has been part of my life for so long now that I feel unbalanced if I go too long without leaving some kind of record, whether I’m jotting notes in a notebook, scribbling it down on paper, contributing to a forum or blogging proper, it is some kind of compulsion. I always feel better after hitting the Publish button. I highly recommend it as a therapy.
Sometimes the words flow and I know exactly what I’m writing about. Other times the meaning evolves and it’s not until I type that summary sentence that I realise, “Oh, so that’s what this is about!” Sometimes it’s simply an emotional purge that will be lost to oblivion when I hit the X and close the window without hitting publish. I do that more than you realise, dear reader.
But it isn’t as rewarding as putting my ’stuff’, both the good AND bad, out there in the public realm and getting a response back from some generous reader saying, ‘I have been there, too’.
But after removing my offensive previous post, there were no words to fill the empty space. I felt my words had dried up, which is an unhealthy place for an aspiring writer to be. I had to get on with the business of real life, tending to the children and the daily grind of school lunches and taxi-ing them around, attending uni for myself and fulfilling the assessment requirements, plus my extra-curricular Masters project and the school P&C (which I am failing at miserably), as well as systematically working through the FBC newsletter, which I have only begun to edit, as well as maintaining relationships with my friends - who are having their own tough times - and my significant other, darling hubby, whose needs always get pushed to the back of the line when things get overwhelming. At such times you just know that something’s going to give.
So now a dose of chicken pox is plaguing the family, I have no choice but to slow down and take stock. It was a good decision to pull everyone, even those who remained pox-less, out of school and work and to just be at home as a family while we wait for the scourge to pass. This week has been a breath of fresh air. I am reminded that keeping life simple and keeping family together are about the only important things there are. Without all the rushing and driving and social obligations I am a calmer person and a better mother and all of a sudden I rediscover my inner writer and those words that have eluded me for so long begin, once again, to flow.
August 27th, 2010 - Posted in community, sustainability, grief, health, self-care | | 4 Comments
12 words
The micro story isn’t new. Ernest Hemingway once said his six-word story, Baby Shoes, was his favourite. “For sale: baby shoes: never used”
Gertrude Stein beat him with a shorter story still called Longer “She stayed away longer.” More recently, New York based writer, Amy Hempel wrote a twelve-word story – Memoir – “Just once in my life. Oh, when have I ever wanted anything just once in my life.”
What we love about the micro story is that it is accessible for everyone. Whether you are a published writer or you have never written any fiction before, you can give this a go and enjoy it. It’s also quick to text, email and tweet.
There are also loads of sites with micro blogs and very short stories on them, see our links below, and suggest more if you know of any.
Gratitude to Kate for sharing this link, and for her 12 words, which will be posted next.
August 9th, 2010 - Posted in learning, personal growth, play, community, wisdom | | 0 Comments
Introducing Emma
picture by mr. toaster
Strong women?
If there’s one thing I miss from my pre-kids life, it’s disappearing onto the road. I used to do a lot of long-distance travel, mostly on my own. Driving for eleven hours straight across the Hay plains, down dirt roads, finding a cheap motel in the middle of nowhere or sleeping in the back seat when I got too tired. Hours at a time with nothing but my own thoughts, and my voice cracking when I use it for the first time all day to pay for petrol. Like Tracey Chapman’s “Fast Car”, the car has always been my independence, escape, and protection.
My last trip pre-kids was to Kakadu during the dry season, seven years ago. I pitched a tent with no fly over top so I could watch the stars as I fell asleep. I listened to indigenous rangers talk about rock art and kinship systems, walked down to the water hoping I didn’t see any crocs, and watched slow burns clearing the dry grass.
I went into the shop on my last night to get a can of beans for dinner, and had a chat with a young woman who had moved there from the Kimberleys to get work. She told me how she knew this guy, David Gulpilil, who wanted to make a movie about Australia set in Arnhem Land. He wanted the world to see how beautiful the place is, and they were talking to big Hollywood celebrities to come do the movie. She hoped to get work as a cook when the movie starting shooting.
Later that night, she spotted me in the bar and we played a game of pool (I’m the worst player ever). It was her first night back in the bar after a three week ban for getting in a fight (she said self-protection), and she was celebrating. When she asked why I wasn’t drinking, I told her I was getting married in six weeks and hoping to have babies, so I was getting my body ready. And she said something that really stunned me: “We need more strong women like you.”
I’ve never seen myself as strong. Here was a young woman, prepared to move hundreds or even thousands of miles from her family, dealing with the combined discrimination against indigenous people and women… and she thought I was strong.
I still don’t know what strength she saw in me. But I hope she got to work in Arnhem Land. It’s beautiful country, I’d love to go back sometime. Although I guess the car trip won’t be about solitude next time.
Emma blogs at www.emmadavidson.wordpress.com
July 8th, 2010 - Posted in parenthood, community, beliefs, wisdom, health, self-care | | 2 Comments
Co-operative buying
picture by NatalieMaynor
Our family have been co-operatively buying organic fruit, veg and groceries for six years now. People often ask me why we buy co-operatively.
Well, first of all, because it offers us more choice. Supermarkets control the supply of specified varieties of fruits and vegetables. It might seem like there is plenty of choice, but really, only a limited selection of what is available ends up in the supermarket fruit and veg section. If you prefer to buy organic fruit and vegetables the selection can be even more limited and produce may be of inferior quality. So buying directly from the distributor, or the fresh food market, or the farmer, gives us access to a greater variety of fresher, produce in season.
Second of all, co-operative buying offers less choice. The impulse to buy a packet of chocolate biscuits or a tub of Maggie Beer ice-cream is eliminated when you shop from a spreadsheet. Less choice keeps it short and simple. I can shop for my staples in the space of five minutes and be done with it until I collect my box a few days later.
We buy co-operatively with a network of like-minded friends. Not all friends participate in the same co-ops. Our most formal co-operative is structured as a not-for-profit association and supplies us with the majority of our fresh food, bread, dairy and packaged grocery items. We have a bank account and we use a roster system to manage the running of the co-op. Our co-op buys fortnightly and we take turns to gather and box up each others’ individual orders.
In the off week I buy our other groceries in bulk; things like toilet paper, cleaning products and the packaged breakfast cereals we’ve become addicted to.
On a quarterly basis, we open the co-op to a wider network to buy fresh organic flours, grains and spices, seeds for sprouting and assorted baking staples.
Through yet another network of friends, our family buys bulk organic meat, direct from the farmer.
It sounds complicated, and for those who love their conveniences, maybe it is. But to have a superior organic product for a cheaper price is worth it. There are other benefits too.
Our distributor complimented us saying that we’re one of the longest lasting co-operatives he’s known. Many co-operatives come and go. It can be hard for a group of people to come to consensus on decisions, and get along as well. How is that we’ve managed to exist for these past six years?
Keeping a co-operative together requires some strict rules, and quite a few bendy ones. It demands good communication of every member, and sometimes that can be hard to facilitate. It requires a sense of ownership and accountability. And it helps to be punctual and keep commitments. Goodness, why would anyone want to buy co-operatively if it requires so much personal investment?
Good question.
I find co-operative buying such a life-enriching way to shop. We’re not dependent on the major supermarket chains for our dietary choices, and we feel like we’re part of a community of people who care about where their food comes from. We’ve become familiar with each others’ families, watched each others’ children grow and shared some really good, and frustrating, times. In equal measure.
Maybe I secretly yearn for the village green, and a way of life that is more connected to the immediate environment. I don’t believe life is to be lived in isolation from my neighbours. Maybe this social way of buying fills a personal need that modern supermarkets, and their anonymous shoppers, can’t fulfil. And maybe it gives me that modicum of additional control over who gets my shopper dollar, and maybe I like having that power.
June 27th, 2010 - Posted in consumerism, community, sustainability, ritual, wisdom, friendship, money | | 0 Comments
Milestone
picture by hasby
This week I turned the big 4-0, but I feel weirdly young and vital. I’ve spent the whole month of April celebrating my milestone with an enthusiasm that, one year ago, I could never have imagined possible.
What’s in a number, really? Several of my girlfriends shared their dread at the prospect of turning 40–positively middle-aged! Some found themselves dealing with several days of genuine grief, others felt a need to do something to affirm their youth or vigour, like go get some botox, or join a kick-boxing class. Surprisingly, I didn’t experience any of that. I feel quite delighted to be putting my 30s behind me and welcoming a new era in my life.
Perhaps this is because I’ve resolved any sense of regret in my life up to now. I may not have achieved the fame and fortune that I dreamed about in my youth, but life has been kind to me, throwing me enough fortunate surprises, rewards and moments of synchronicity that I feel truly grateful for my 40 years.
Finally, I have come into my own. I’m no longer the harried mother that I was just a short time ago, no longer housebound with babies and toddlers, no longer relying on my laptop to connect me with my community when times get rough. My youngest child is now four and gradually leaving her babyhood behind. I feel some degree of entitlement for my hard work. I don’t feel guilty about my new studies at uni taking me away from my family. This is my time!
And at the beginning of this month, husband and I managed our first full week holiday away from our little family–and the sky didn’t fall on us. In fact, the kids had such a good time with their aunty, they can’t wait for us to do it again! So gee, maybe we will!
I still have some celebrating to do with my woman-friends, and I feel so honoured to be in the position where people actually want to celebrate with me. My cup of gratitude is overflowing this month and I vow to savour this feeling for as long as I can. I want to share it with everyone I know for no reason other than that it makes me feel good.
For my birthday, the kids performed a play they created themselves about a baker with no eggs and no flour and a broken oven, who had to bake a birthday cake. We captured it, bloopers and all, on our newly acquired digital movie camera. I can’t think of a better present for my milestone birthday. Can you?
So happy birthday to me!
April 23rd, 2010 - Posted in personal growth, gratitude, community, ritual, wisdom, self-care | | 3 Comments
