Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Sandy Hook - Discussions with my 13 year old.

Sandy Hook Elementary school.

As a parent, my mind backs away from considering how dreadfully heartbreaking this tragedy is for the families of the children and teachers.  I know too many people who are living "My Worst Nightmare" and I have seen the grief of parents who lose children, young or at 39.
My heart goes out to each and every family member, trying to cope with their senseless loss.

My daughter asked me about this senseless massacre.  I asked her for a moment and googled for help, for help of how to tell her without making her unwilling to ever go to school again.

We talked about how her school is at less risk, sheerly due to it being a small school.
We talked about how the school children had so few option of what to do, about the brave teacher who managed to hide so many 6 years olds in cupboards - imagine being able to get all those children hidden so quickly and then lie convincingly to a madman holding multiple weapons.  Brilliant woman.
We talked about gun laws.
Oh yes, we talked about them.

I am Australian, I grew up with guns, my Father is a true devotee of guns, my family are involved with the local gun club.  We had a farm.  Gun are important to farms.  At least... one of the guns my Dad owned was important to the farm.  The rest were for fun.  Fun.  The fun of shooting at a target.   I didn't like the loud noise, the recoil back into my shoulder or the smell.  So I will merely accept that others found it fun. 

I explained to my Princess that the laws in Australia had ensured people, could only have guns suited to killing animals.  Because that is the only purple for a gun, to kill.  There were no automatic weapons in the house.  No assault weapons.

My daughter and I talked about how if the killer at the Sandy Hook school had guns that didn't fire so quickly, some more of the children might have survived.  Someone might have been able to get closer to try and disarm him.  People could have run.  The whole aspect of human reflexes vs the incredible firing speed of those guns made it impossible for anyone to escape.

Dad handed in several killing machines after the Port Arthur tragedy.  The others were locked up securely at the Gun Club, as Dad had no suitable storage at home.  No easy access to guns. 

Guns kill.  That is their whole purpose.
The mental stability of the person holding the gun decides who/what lives and who dies.
The firing rate of the gun decides if there is a chance for the intended victims to escape or respond defensively.

They used to say "If we outlaw guns, only outlaws will have guns."

If that is the case in Australia, from what I have seen in the news... those outlaws tend to only use those outlawed guns against other outlaws.

R.I.P. Sandy Hook children and teachers.  




Saturday, 15 December 2012

More about my cat.

Do I really look 16 years old?

Somedays I think I am a fairly self sufficient person.  That I don't rely on others to keep me happy, to keep me going.  That I have grown past who I was and can now give to others.

Then something bad happens and I realise just how intensely reliant and co-dependant I truly am.

I rely on my husband so much.  He creates the basic stability of my life, the rock solid ground i walk on.  When he has taken that away, I felt like I was walking on Jelly, sinking, unbalanced and suffocated.  He gives me comfort.  If I remember to ask, in highly specific terms, for comfort.

I rely on my daughter.  Mostly, I rely on her existance.  If she is alive, then my world can still turn.  She also provides awesome cuddles and sadly enough, knows how to deal with a Mama in tears.

I rely on my friends.  Some to be there to listen to my problems, though I try really hard to make sure they only hear about them once, or when there is an update.  Some to provide help.

It's when these supports are taken away that you really notice them.  Even the one's I wasn't taking for granted.

Knowing that my cousin and his now deceased wife had escaped all the pressures around them to start their life the way they wanted... that had been a little "something going right in the world" that I thought of with a smile.  Something solid.  Something to rely on, not in any draining way, just to know they were there, being them, being happy.

I miss that.  I miss Jodie.

Being able to visit my best friend each week, have happy joyous times with our kids, even if we rarely finished a sentence due to child rearing activities.  Solid.  Grounding.  Strength.
People who move 8 hours away, even if it is for a really good reason, make weekly visits really challenging.

They'll come back.  Alternately, their children will move in with us when it is time for them to go to Uni.

But losing a cat.  I had no idea that Charlie cat was so much more than a sheer delight for me.

I knew I loved it when I heard his paw treads coming into the bedroom, and would plan how to get his soft and cuddly little self well hidden under the doona before an intensely jealous and somewhat evil Dominating Girl cat noticed him and began his eviction.
I knew that his bounding around the garden, with that special bouncing high into the air run Charlie had, always brought me joy.  It was a memory to take out and use whenever "stinkin' thinkin'" threatened to make my thoughts negative.
I knew that hearing his absurdly high pitched meow and finding my black and white Tuxedo boy sitting in the empty baath, calling for me to turn on the tap... just a little, enough to provide him a drink, but not enough to get him wet and startle him into forgetting that he was thristy, was so adorable and always led to giggles and wet paw cuddles.
Charlie, in the bath, waiting patiently for Mama to stop taking pretty pictures and turn on the tap.



I knew seeing him waking,from a well deserved sleep under the rose bush, giving his so smooth head a pat as he told me about his day was a lovely way to come home.

I knew that he was a good cat and we were lucky to have him in our lives.

It is just that I didn't know how much I relied on his solid little self as an emotional support.  Charlie's lovely little cat body was so nice to cuddle, so substantial, so comforting.  His friendliness, his acceptance, his unconditional love and so importantly, that I could love him unconditionally back.

His wet nose smooches that sometimes went all the way from the tip of my nose to an ear... and sometimes to an eye - ick!  They said, "I love you (feed me) and you love me."

SiDana is much more challenging.  She loves me, but I have to earn her smooches.
Isaac has recently begun to allow me cuddles.

But Charlie, whenever I wanted a cuddle or to give him a cuddle, he would accept it.  At least for a little while.  It was a priviledge.  It was very good for my soul.

There are no new comfort memories to be made with Charlie Cat...
I now have a sun warmed cat smell memory, a soft fur touch memory, a sound of purring memory that are all linked to receiving comfort.  These need to be strengthened, recalled often.
  





Wednesday, 12 December 2012

I want my Charlie cat

I read a sentence today that resonated through my soul.

"I find it hard to breathe when you're not here."


Oh Charlie Cat, I want to cuddle you too soothe this ache away, like I cuddled you through the baby losses, through Jodie's drawn out trauma and eventual death. I want to bury my face in your super thick fur and be able to feel your thunderous and calming purr.  Feel your paw on my face.  You helped me get through all my truly sad times.

You are not here.  


Both the cause of my tears and the reason I don't know where to find comfort.

Some days he'd pose, but mostly... Charlie wanted to smooch the camera.

Monday, 10 December 2012

He was the silliest of bouncy cats

15 years ago a very silly cat joined our lives.  Stunningly gorgeous, with his tuxedo and white gloves on, with one little black toe on each front paw to add adorableness.

Charlie liked to sneak up onto your lap... inching his way onto the couch, over to you, so that you would have been patting his lush fur for a few minutes before you realised he was even there.
Look at me!  I'm Gorgeous!
Charlie Kitten trying to figure out how to get back down...
He was playful and had non-stop energy.  It didn't matter if the other cats were awake or asleep, Charlie cat would pounce and start the games, anyway!  SiDana may have developed her impressively high "Leap to the top of the cupboard in a single bound" skill sheerly to have some time out from Mister Charlie.

This was a favourite game... "Come pat my belly so I can try and gouge your arm... Pleeeease?

He adored my Princess.  She likewise adored him, and even until last week, could be found dragging the innocent and placid Charlie around the house and yard.  While she never took it into her head to dress him up, he was certainly a large part of her childhood games, with dolls, pirate ships, cats and Mummy all dragged into together. 

His whiskers.  For so many years they were at least an inch wider than his body.  Stunning.
 He did think her Pram was his.  It's possible she encouraged this.  It was amazingly cute to see my Boy Cat and Girl Child in the pram together.  Charles would even let me take them for walks, as long as I stayed in "his" territory.

He slept with me.  Under the doona, with his gorgeous little paws on my arm and shoulder, his sweet black head with such enormous white whiskers tickling my ear as he purred his outrageously loud purr.  Even three weeks ago, Trickey was complaining how the happy noise was keeping him awake, so I snuggled Charlie cat further under the doona and told him to ignore that grumpy old man.

And now.

I will miss him.
My chunky cuddle.
My beautiful bounding gazelle.
My Boy Cat with such an innocent gaze, because he was retarded and we were warned, but he didn't need to be smart, he was loveable.  The Fire Brigade were very nice about having to get him down from that large tree.  The neighbours were fine about me paying for anything he destroyed, though they did have to start feeding Smokey Cat inside - Charles had a serious Houdini streak when it came to getting out the the "Play Patio" we built to confine him.
And it was all good.

How could anyone call such an exuberant kitten "Beast" and give him to a shelter at 6 months old, I will never understand.  However, I will be eternally grateful that they did.

15 years of fun and delight and smooches and being an awesome entertainer.

Love you so much, my Charlie Boy Cat.  You were a balm to my soul.  Healer cat that cuddled when things were bad.  Silly cat.  So Silly.  Love that.

The Girl, The Man, The Girl Cat and I are going to miss you. 
Rest in peace, adored and cherished Charlie Cat.  I may never get over you, but I will always be glad you were with me.





Sunday, 11 November 2012

Why I hoop!

As an adult, I had kinda stopped playing.

Then I had a daughter and started playing at her level, growing each year as she grew.

My princess is so different from me that I was privileged to explore whole new world, of art and dance and finally circus.

It was when I picked up that first hoop during one of her circus classes, when I was given an adult sized hoop (those little ones from toy stores are CHILD sized!  Never occurred to me, I thought I had just grown to old to hoop) and spun it around my waist.

At first, I got a thrill from being able to keep the hoop spinning.  Yehaaa!

Then I started remembering the tricks I did at primary school.   Could I do those?  The one where you spin it on your hand? 

Yes I could!

At Ruccis after my very first hoop performance ever, in 2009. 

The background has been blurred since I couldn't be bothered calling 20 or so people to get their permission to post their faces. ;-)

What about the fun of spinning the hoop around my ankle and jumping over it, while running forward?  Oh yes!  With a sense of who I was at ten, for just a few steps, I was doing that too.

I felt free.  I felt a sense of success.  I felt able. 

I could smell the cut grass at my primary school, the chocolate Big M scent of my childhood hoop, the warmth of the sun that used to bleach my blonde hair for me as I hula'd for hours in the backyard, the fun of a group of girls and boys in the courtyard all spinning and jumping and having fun together. 

Sharing the tricks we learned.  Crowing like Peter Pan when we learnt to do something new.  Sharing hoops so people could try to hoop with more than one.  Community.  Hoop community!

With a hoop now in hand, I felt like playing.  For no reason other than that it was enjoyable.  Smiling gleefully at others around me, having a wonderful time, sharing that happy energy. 

When I hold a hoop, I feel free to try new things.  If I drop it, I just pick it up again, no problem caused.  If I try something new and it doesn't work, that's okay because this is play and nothing bad happens because I failed.  It's not even failure.  Each time I try, I teach my brain and body a little step more in the attempt.  How awesome is that? 

When I hoop it causes smiles like this one.  

Smiling.  This moment (just after finishing the Hat and the Hoop performance) was partly immense relief that the performance was DONE and partly sheer joy. 
Hooping is a way to play. 

My life is not just work and family.  Now it includes playing and I have taken that lesson and learnt to play in other ways, spontaneously or planned.




Thursday, 25 October 2012

I Heart my Body 2012

I Heart My Body is a positive body image blog linkup organised by "We Heart Life" to promote... you guessed it, positive body image.

It's been a wandering thought in my head, that 200 years ago, we didn't have the mass media to take images of the most beautiful and symmetrical people and then put them everywhere.  This increases our expectations that:
- We should look like that
- Looking like that is IMPORTANT
- Lots of people look like that

Well, lots of people don't.  And they shouldn't have to feel it is important that they do.   And the disappointment about this doesn't come from not being perfect it comes from the UNFULFILLED EXPECTATIONS that have been created by a false force.

We should just have to look as we are.  I believe hairy legs and all, but I completely buckled under pressure on that one. Now I excuse myself by reminding myself that I like my Trickey's face shaven so if he likes my legs minus all that thick, dark brown hair, then it is a marital balance issue, not a caving in under peer pressure issue.  Really.  It is.  Would you believe...

(To steal a favourite phrase from a friend) *getting off my soapbox*
Here is my I Heart My Body Post.

weheartlife.com

Three things I love about my body.

As a child, I said I liked my long, straight blond hair and my lovely green eyes with their cool dusky green border.

I still love my eyes, they are such a pretty light colour and the darker border is cool and gives them definition.  They are a nice shape, with just a hint of a upward tilt at the outer edges.

I love my fingers.  They are long and elegant, with callouses in all the right places for trapese.

I love my calves, for all their lovely strong muscle that gives them nice definition (and makes them too large to fit into my knee high boots, but, hey, I should give them to Princess!  So gunna do that right now!) (She even paused playing Wii to make some comments, but I think this is not an exciting moment for her.  But...but... they're SHOES!)

My body image was never very good.  When I was at Uni, I often had to walk past many building sites and to be completely honest, the wolf whistles and inappropriate comments bolsters my self image.  Sometimes, when I was having a bad day, I would go for a completely unnecessary walk past the building site.

After Baby Princess was born, it took two years to get my figure back to something I vaguely liked, but only when fully covered.  I despaired about the big, saggy tummy I had to the point where I would be lying awake in misery much of the night.  Now I can see this is a waste of time, but back then... well, I lacked confidence.   When the Princess hit the Kinder era, I made a committment to give up Cleo and Cosmopolitan magazines.  I spent my days with lovely women of all shapes, sizes and combinations.  They were all pretty or attractive in some way.

(She has the 1960's knee high boots of dancing... she is pleased with how they slide over the floor.  Makes all that effort wearing away the soles worthwhile... *grins*) 

Another moment that improved my self image was at Circus, having a whinge about stretch marks.  Mine go from halfway down my thighs to up past my belly button.  (Impressively extensive, right?)  How my skin will never be attractive again.  Sob, sob, moan, whinge.  And one of the younger men showed me how he has had stretch marks since he was a teenager undergoing a massive growth spurt.   And I looked. And it didn't look terrible.  It just looked... natural.

Princess and I are heading out to the sunshine now, to take a FULLY CLOTHED (No, I am so not that brave) picture of my body.  Doing something my body likes to do. ;-)  



Oh!  OH! And I love my breasts!  Not for how they look... but because they make splitting two hoops (so one is spinning around my chest and one on my waist) so much easier! ;-)




Tuesday, 23 October 2012

I has a sad and a happy at the same time.

As nothing defines my character better than to be contradictory and inconsistent.

I am sad because one of the shining people in my life will be moving out of my sphere soon.  I am happy because she is moving Onwards and Upwards and that is wonderful and exciting.

I have an inner need to control things, to keep them as they are and this has been one of my life lessons, to learn to go with the flow, to accept, to enjoy the good moments and deal with the bad moments.

And I have learnt, many, many, oh why so many times these two things.

1.  People will not stay in the my sphere just to keep me happy.  *cheeky grin*  They like to travel and have their own fun adventures and I cannot control them.  Tying them up and making them stay is frowned upon by the Police, begging is futile as they either ignore it or really learn intense resentment towards you (and rightfully so) as you are holding them back. 

2.  I like people who are adventurous. 

Internal personality conflict right there. 

That lovely time after finishing Uni, when you are supposed to be having amazing adventures, exploring all sorts of places/things/ideas/yourself/careers was one of my biggest learning curves then.  Trickey and I had married about a week after Uni finished (cos it's not completely insane to be organising a wedding while trying to finish final assignments and learn calculus) and I had expected all my lovely friends would get work in the city and we would all hang out and have amazing parties on the weekend.

Apparently, they expected to backpack or move to France or to drive the newly bought, very secondhand, fourwheel drive around obscure bits of Australia and then have said Fourwheel drive break down and stay in Townsville for several years while they worked and saved enough to fix it.  Or some vague expectations like that.  I may have cried and begged the Townsville couple not to go.  Didn't work.  Learning curve in my face, baybeee!

So, I stayed home, tried to learn wifely skills like cooking (Trickey is a very brave man!) and cleaning... (still getting there with that one) and finally got a job and we bought a house.  This was the adventure I wanted!  And I had my cousins nearby and I love them and we did lots of fun things together.  And then THEY MOVED AWAY.  (Seriously.  I don't smell that bad.  They've invited me up for Christmas, soooo...)

I made new friends.  They've since moved away to open a business in China. 

I made new friends.  I chose ones who liked to stay near family.  Stable.  Constant. 
I think Lil' Miss Inconsistent and Contrary irritated them a lot.  And then we drifted apart.  Which is a polite way of saying I drove them batty and they'd finally had enough.

Slowly, I learnt to just enjoy people for the time they are in my sphere and send them off with a "Have So Much Fun!"  Live in the moment.  Be happy with what is here, right now and not worry about if they will stay. 

And do you know what I've discovered? 

There are SO MANY amazing people out there, waiting to create fun! 
That the anxiety produced by worrying about them going away from me was taking FUN away from my life.  So pffft to you, anxiety.  I don't need you.  
That I can love new people and it doesn't matter if they stay.  Cos loving a new friend is positive and happy and wonderful!

...and that sometimes, they do come back. ;-)  That is not the point of this post, however.


In case you are interested in the Onwards and Upwards adventurer, since we all love having virtual adventures, take a look at Almost Exactly Circus on Facebook, or if you want to help them get their regional touring circus adventure off the ground, you can support their project on Pozible and there are choices there where you can have shining people come into your life as well!  

Now I must go and try and find out if the huntsman spidey that was on the fence next to my car last night is IN my car, or just somewhere else on the fence.  I must thank Circus for helping me develop me the flexibility and strength to be able to climb into the car via the passenger side and get Miz Princezz to her bus on time.  Now to garner some emotional strength to go find creeeepy crawwwly.

Tuesday, 16 October 2012

Real World Infiltrating! now with added flowers!

My inspiring RUCCIS coach now reads my blog.  (waves hello!)  This is a combination of exciting, nerve-wracking and embarrassing.  Plus I am going to have to really carefully edit my grammar from now on. (cheeky grin at said coach)  So this is like an interim post, to get over that nervousness. 

*twiddles thumbs, wonders what to write, writes, deletes, not stressing, just... unsure!*

When I come home and park in my driveway, I have a great feeling of contentment and happiness.  I love my little cream brick veneer house and I love being at home.  As a special bonus, in Spring, this is the view I see from my car as I park.


I know there are so many spiders living in there (yey for mini-ecosystems!) that I haven't had the courage to clean my windows for over a decade (Isn't is fun being old enough to speak in terms of decades!), but it is a happy spot.  Often a tiny Tabby can be found sleeping in the violets under the Stonewall x Jackson azalea and when I get out of the car, she stands up and does a most adorable stretch before greeting me with her trilling meow. 
 

Pretty!  Morning sun making the flowers glow.


 The intensity of colour makes my eyes happy.


What makes you happy when you get home?




Thursday, 11 October 2012

Cry Tabby - but I keep on answering the call

My Girl Kitten (who may be 15 years old, but is still tiny and continues to be known as the Kitten) cries everytime she goes to bed. 
Not when she curls up outside, not when she settles in for a snooze by the heater, not when she purrs herself to sleep on my lap.  Unless we are in my bedroom.

It's a very sad, cry, the cry of a baby looking for her mother.  At night, she explores the entire room, talking to ghosts and crying out, before settling down (usually on my head) (True, that doesn't help my breathing problems, but she is impossibly cute and gets away with anything she wants to). 

She didn't do this the first night I brought her home.  She didn't leave hold of me for the whole night.  Sharp, tiny claws ensured her grip.

She curled up on my chest, just over my heart and fell asleep purring to my heart beat.  For twenty minutes I strained my eyes to watch her sweetly sleep.   She was a two month old kitten... so after that twenty minutes she got up and wanted to play.

But the next night... she searched.  We thought it was adorable, the tiny little paddy paws girl exploring the cupboard and window sills, until the cry started.  Up we bounced to make sure our baby girl kitten was okay.  Amber eyes peered back up at us from inside the dark cupboard, wide open and soulful.  Then she gave her happy, bird like chirrup to us and dived with kittenish enthusiasm into the next nook.  And cried again. 

This cry of hers tugs at my heartstring. 

Hubby teases me that she is looking for her real Mum.  I AM her real Mum!  She was part of a litter of kittens dumped at an Animal Rescue place.  I did not take her from her Mum, I adopted her and did my best. (my best does not include discipline) 

Usually she is a very happy, spoilt, smug little dominating Tabby who knows she rules this household.

Except... when she goes into the bed room and cries for a few minutes before curling up. 

After 15 years, I know nothing will fix this.  I still rush in to check (okay, the Tabby is a little bit precious to us), but just give her a pat and get on with the day after I know she is fine.

 I just wish I could make it better.  Or understand cat talk and know that she's actually saying, "My bed, you other cat's keep away", or something traditionally spoilt, jealous and possessive Evil Dominating Shoulder sitting Tabby Girl Cat like.


Saturday, 6 October 2012

Have you ever...

Have you ever...

Had one of those days when you are dancing and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror?
And then start jumping up and down because the swarovski crystal bling on your t-shirt sparkles so beautifully when your busom bounces up and down?

No?  Really?  Must just be me, then!

SO Sparkly!



Tuesday, 18 September 2012

Dizzy with endorphins

I've been reading several of my favourite blogs, Edenland, Magneto Bold Too and others.  I used to bond so strongly with the agonies they are going through.  I still feel with them, agonise with them.

Except.

Except.

Right now...

I'm really happy.  I've tamed or accepted or modified so many of the problems that brought me down and I admit, I indulge in hefty doses of endorphins with my exercise and circus.  For a second I feel guilt.  It doesn't last because I know how hard I have fought to overcome or simply exist with my challenges.  

Then I feel... sad that I can't give it to those I love.  My solutions are not their solutions.  I cannot fix the difficulties my real life friend has with her two autistic (one also with intellectual disability) children.  I cannot solve my cousins' losses, of partners, of dreams, of their health and their life without pain.

I'm so freaking happy.  Right now, right here, there is so little to write about.  Happiness doesn't engender the need to express myself.  I am expressing myself through my sewing, through my performances with RUCCIS, giving all of myself in each moment, whether as a Mum to a (finally) happy child, a daughter who can empathise with her Marmie,  an artist who can share with an audience what is feels like to fall in love, what it feels like to be part of an amazing, energy fueled 70's act and send that energy out to the audience. 

I so loved both those acts.  The gorgeous, talented and lovely J, singing her soul out to the audience, while I, as a Ventitian lady, attracted to the stunning Gondalier, kept reaching out and being dragged away by the forces of society/gravity until... until... the Gondalier came to me and I surrendered my heart, my single point trapese to J, dancing around her in awe as she impressed not just the audience, but myself as the character.   I loved throwing myself into the concept.  Trying to become more involved with both our characters.  Spinning on the single point trapese definately added to my (glee) enjoyment. 

I may have pictures one day.  We had the most amazing (and adorably passionate about his art) photographer come to both "Little Cabaret of Horrors" and now "Gracie and the Time Machine" and he is simply amazing. 

Until then....Look how good he made M and I look at Cabaret (though M is gorgeous anyway!) 
Capturing Images - The Red Shoes

The highlight of the entire performance, for me, was a trick that T devised.  No idea how he came up with it, but I am so delighted that he did.  Not just because it looks really cool, but because it is an extended moment of sheer joy for me. I so hope, someone, somewhere, filmed it.

Imagine... gripping the ropes of a trapese, swinging back and forth, then on the forward swing, being caught by a very strong and capable friend who spins you around them, letting you go flying across the stage in full spin as well... so that you are now spinning at a delicious speed, while swinging back and forth across the 12 meter stage.  At first T would catch me on the swing back to him, worried my grip wasn't strong enough, until the strength grew and I pouted because I just wanted to keep on spinning and swinging and spinning.

Bliss.








Saturday, 8 September 2012

electronica and synethaesia


As a synethaesiac, I find electronica very relaxing to listen to.

The sounds are very square, the colour consistent through each note.  Easy.

It can occasionally become boring.

Then a band like Yazoo throws a singer with an amazing voice, full of passion and emotion, into the mix, making a beautiful picture of brightly coloured, strongly geometric shapes in the background and a wild streaming ribbon of varying colour, density and shape over the top of it.

One day, I will paint an image of what I see when I listen to a song.
The real challenge is that I can only paint one limited time segment, before the picture changes.  Like flash photography, I would need to choose one tiny moment to capture.

And I would need to be able to remember what I saw.




Thursday, 6 September 2012

I believe in me

I've been very distracted by this "real life" that William Shatner told us Trekkies to get several decades ago.  Seriously, Billy, dressing up as fictional characters and parading on stage, while spending the day talking to other people with the same passion as me... is exactly what I am doing now at Circus.  So, while I respect Captain Kirk, William Shatner can simply accept that my opinion of him is that he is someone who cannot realise other people live fully, excitedly, thrillingly in different ways to his expectations.

Expectations bite.  I am learning to ignore them and go with the flow.  I may not get what I aimed for at the beginning, but I get something wonderful or magical or simply good.

For the last two months, my life focus has been on the upcoming RUCCIS production.  Creating acts, rehearsing, recovering from muscle abuse *grins*, sewing SOOOOOO many costumes and promoting our performance!

So, while my blog has been vegging on the couch in front of trashy TV shows, I have done this...
It's a colour in Flyer for our show!  I loved the concept and had a ball making it. 

We are on the ACAPTA website , which gave me such a thrill.
http://acapta.org.au/project/gracie-and-time-machine

I have spent hours days months making pretty fabrics into almost finished costumes...


These will be a 70's outfit, an egyptian statue costume, a Venetian Lady's dress and a Flapper dress, complete with awesome wig and feather headband. 
They WILL.  
IT WILL HAPPEN.  
I believe in me. 

The Princess is performing as well.  Her costume is a black shirt and pants with fur trim.  Not much of a challenge for me there...but I never wanted to be a Stage Mum, who pushes their child from backstage.  

Being on stage as well is So Much More Fun. ;-)


Sunday, 2 September 2012

I love Saturdays

When you were a little kid, did you ever spin and spin and spin around and around and around until you were so dizzy that you fell down on the grass, laughing and giggling and just feeling like the world was a sunshiney bright place?

I get to do that every Saturday, on a single point trapese, with an amazing fun group of people.

And land on a nice, soft, squishy mat.

Monday, 27 August 2012

When calling a Spade a Spade is a disguised putdown

Tonight, I realised how supportive my current friendship group is.

Tonight, it became clear to me that the positivity I surround myself with is wonderful and having a healing effect on me.

Tonight, I also realised that choosing your friends carefully is extremely important because sometimes the bad choices never go away.


After many Trickey hugs and possibly a bit of griping, I have my reactions back under control and my self esteem only showing a mark or two from the negativity thrown at me tonight.
What am I going to do tomorrow and the day after and the day after, when the little stones beings so lovingly projected at my self esteem start to cause cracks.

I may have to learn to stand up for myself.  Correct this person constantly instead of simply going along with it.

But how can I when I am not sure?  Not sure if what is said is true or untrue?  Or how much of it is that I have been trying the technique of "avoidance" and it is being incorrectly perceived by them as my usual vague, easily distracted self?

What if is this person right, but just also so used to living in a negative, soul-diminishing environment that this is the only way they know how to treat others.  Which sucks and seriously, I know I should take this as an opportunity to help, but I have previously given up 6 months of my life for this person's misery before and I DON'T WANT to do it again.  It's contagious.

I might be a spade.  But maybe that's not something to use to diminish and reduce me.  It might even be something to celebrate and learn how to use for a positive effect.

Saturday, 25 August 2012

Clicking links in Real Life

Have you ever been on youtube, looking up a song you used to love, then, on the sidebar it recommended another song?  One that reminded you of an amazing summer, or a friend who sang it all the time, or just a good day?  Then the next link led you to listen to a song by that artist that you hadn't heard before.  Then a parody of a popular song was linked and you click that and laughed so hard and spent the night clicking through more and more links, following an unstructured pathway, having a virtual adventure.

That is what my life is like at the moment and I am loving it.

My Brother in law got a new girlfriend a few years ago. 
She had a bad back and we often talked about her medical issues.  Eventually, I decided to give her Chiropractor a go.

At the Chiro, one of the receptionists was an amazingly vibrant person who told us of the fun she had at circus training.  I thought it sounded way out there and dangerous, but was happy for her.  One school holidays Princess and I were having the discussion of "Ballet again or something new like Karate" as we walked in and involved the receptionist who commented that my Princess would LOVE Circus.  So off we went.  And she loved it.

So did I.

So I joined.

Many, many links were clicked here, trying all sorts of classes and loving them all.  More links were clicked, performing in public, choreographing, designing flyers, organising First Aid classes. 

The latest link on this journey has been face painting.  A friend had her birthday party theme as tattoo/face painting and it was so fun!  Just playing and being silly and doing art.  It's new love, mostly because I love how creamy and delicious feeling the face paints are.

For someone who can't wear makeup (I did months of research to find face paints I could use) this is sheer joy.



So here's some of my and Trickey's paintings.  I can see him being popular at the car show next year.


Another tangent... Another path I never expected to follow... being a flying mermaid!  This tail was amazingly cool to flip and swish!


Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Soooo, the Olympics have started.

If someone hadn't mentioned it on Facebook, I wouldn't have known the Olympics had begun.

I used to love the Olympics.  Loved the opening Ceremony, watching the Athletes parade out in all the hopefulness.

Admittedly, I only have any interest in watching the gymnastics.  Which is shown less and less these days, in Australia.   I was almost tempted to get Pay TV this morning, whom are playing the Gymnastics quite extensively. 

So why am I not even turning on the television?  I know there is some block there, something insisting I don't.  I just want to know what that inhibition is and if it is one of my silly things or something practical.

I have noticed since I have become so involved with Circus, it takes up most of my mental space.  Maybe I don't want to distract from this process?

Is it a dislike of competitiveness?  The sadness I feel for those who makes mistakes, after devoting their lives to training for this one event? 

Distaste for the hype that goes with it?  The fake personalities I see on television, which are a big reason why the television only comes on to watch DVD's when I'm home.

Is it fear of getting sucked into the TV maybe?  Life is so much more fun when I am living it, rather than watching it!

Is it because I know I am going to get angry?  Be distressed by the stupid things that are said, as discussed by these two blogs...
Where is your Olympic Spirit?
Australia expects too much of Olympians

Who knows?  But I just turned on the TV and they are discussing complete junk and there is much screaming and my fingers are itching towards my remote control off button.

If anyone knows good Youtube versions of the gymnastics, let me know, but my ancient Tabby cat has just fallen asleep on her rainbow mat and I think I would rather watch her dream.  And feel the peace.


Sunday, 29 July 2012

Comparisons

Only last year, I was still in ridiculous amounts of pain.

Two years ago, I was in unbearable pain, physical and emotional, crying all the time, not wanting to cut myself off from the world again, but finding myself incapable of coping with it.

Four years ago, I was making my first steps towards regaining a normal life, one that involved social and physical activities, feeling so lucky that I had found a chiropractor who was giving me back this chance.

Eight years ago, I was sinking into a miserable depression, having lost two pregnancies in a year and knowing most people were so tired of me being sad that I just kept up a happy face.  One Kinder Mum said she was astounded when she found out I was depressed, because I always seemed so cheerful that she had been envious.  I must remember that when I worry about my acting abiity.
 
Now.  Right now.   I feel pretty good.  By the Ambulance Guy's scale of "Zero is no pain and 10 is the worst pain you can ever imagine", I'm feeling about on a one.  Neck twinges, of course.  Slight ache in my lower back.  I'm ignoring any circus/rollerblading induced pain, since that creates more happiness than the pain takes away.  Some numbness down my right arm.  I may have dropped a lot of things today, since I am totally out of the habit of watching myself pick up something, visually gauge how tight I need to hold it and then keep monitoring it all the time.  Did I ever decline to hold your baby, when everyone knew how much I adored cuddling babies?  This would be why.  My heart would jump and that horrid feeling of intense fear and apprehension of injuring such a precious being, plus the added social worry of having to decline such a risky activity without having to go through the whole explanation and medical aspect of why.

I know some Kinder Mum's thought it was because it was too emotionally hard for me, after having lost so many pregnancies.  Which in some cases, it was.  
 
A close friend, whom I used to visit every week had a lovely new daughter,  She was six weeks old before I managed to force myself over for that first meeting.  I had my princess in the toddler seat, wondering why I kept turning the car around to go home.  She probably didn't wonder why I cried, cos even at that age, she knew how much I missed the sister she was supposed to have, the unknown ectopic baby that I hadn't even allowed myself to hope about, or so I thought.  My Princess watered our lost baby's rose every day for that autumn. 
When I finally reached my friend's house and cuddled her new little girl, (sitting ever so carefully on the couch and letting her put her tiny lady into my lap, cos she knew all about my difficulties) it felt like the grey ice around me shattered a little and let some sunshine back into my heart.

I can handle this level of pain.  I can handle the rigmarole, the restrictions that go with keeping it to this level.  I can cope.  
And every single moment of the day, I am very aware of how lucky I am to have the life I have right now.  And I am going to use it.
Admittedly, for Circus and playing with my daughter, collecting old cars with my Hubby and cuddling my cats. 

Thursday, 26 July 2012

TMI ... have just discovered textfromdog

Someone on FB linked me to this hilarious website, http://textfromdog.tumblr.com/

I really need to pee, but I can't stop reading and laughing so loud, that the friend whom Hubby was on the phone too had to ask "what one earth was going on with Esse?".

I really need to pee.

But I can't stop reading...

and LAUGHING!

Please let this end well, please let this end well....

Friday, 20 July 2012

Yours in arachnophobia

*Warning!  While there are no pictures of spiders, there is a picture of a bite wound, for those who find such things icky.  

On Sunday, I will be attempting to get my First Aid Certificate.

I have nearly finished my theory.

I am stuck on one bit. 
In the poisons section.
The bit with all the identifying pictures.
And a video.

Of Spiders.

I have not managed to watch it yet.

Even scrolling down to it, I have to go past a Funnel web spider (treat with compression bandaging all the way up the limb).

Then after it is a redback spider (treat with cold compress) and a charming portrait of a white tail spider (wash area with soapy water to reduce bacterial infection)



Wish I'd known that after that rotter bit me.  One month of feeling like I had a burning hot knitting needle stuck in my thigh might have been reduced slightly.  This is what a white tail BITE looks like after two weeks.
It is about 1.5 cm wide at this point.  Later, it got to be the size of a 20 cent coin and was a weird, blue, scaly looking thing.  My Princess joked her mama was turning into a Dragon.  I think she might have been a little bit hopeful, also...

They missed "Huntsman" - treat with panicky flailing of limbs until the horrid thing that crawled onto your car speedo, looked at you through your steering wheel, reared up it's two front legs and jumped on your head is in multiple pieces on the floor of your car... and you are wearing Sandles with Huntsman's legs still caught in them.

Hubby was very impressed that I managed to pull the car over.  He'd always said that I was going to die of a spider related car accident.


My Husband recommends a desensitisation program, to cure my irrational spider phobia.   I have lived in abject, irrational fear of his following through with this helpful concept for years, till I finally broke down in tears and made him say he wouldn't do it.

I recommended moving to England, where they barely have any spiders at all.

So, when I do the actual First Aid course... are they going to show *that* video and flash up pictures?  Now plotting which friend to hide behind during said video...

Yours in Arachnophobia,

Esse

Sunday, 8 July 2012

Sparkly Zombie Attack

Costumes and blankets strewn over the floor.
Face painted and glitter spray in my hair.
Guipure lace daisies I bought on a whim over 15 years ago finally on display.

A self portrait of an Eccentricess moments before she picked up her cherry red, sparkly, shiny hoops to go on stage in front of 200 people and wiggle her 85 kg figure in lycra.

Shimmery, sparkly lycra. 

I
Had
Fun

I walked out like this...


And I came back looking a little bit like this...


Zombiefied and happy about it!

My coach said when I spun around and my hair unravelled out gloriously, all the glitter and sparkles spun out around me and her thought was that "Esse would be so happy"!

Enjoy the good times with all your heart, soul and let yourself sparkle!

Cabaret = Happy

My costume got close enough to finished.
Our cherry red sparkly hoops were awesome...right until you got them under blue stage lighting and we COULDN'T SEE THEM!!!
Apparently every else could, due to their intense sparkliness, but tricks we got so easily earlier in the day, were simply not happening and we couldn't understand why.... :-o
M and I threw ourselves into an act that we had never managed to run through with decent timing... and while we both messed up tricks, the act itself...totally came together for the night.

It was awesome.
We were fabulous.
We made so many mistakes.
My Hubby was smiling when I came to see if he had enjoyed himself after the show.
Considering he has given up weeks of "cooked dinners" and "housework being done rather than being a conceptual fantasy", this is a very good reaction.

This act, "the Red Shoes", was very personal to me.

Because I love the story/movie/Kate Bush adaptation




All of these touch my heart.
The common story of giving into tempation.  My life story.
My constant battle.
plus the image of Vicky Page jumping into those red shoes has been part of my psyche for longer that I can recall.

I wanted to do this act... justice.
I wanted it to be GOOD.
So many compromises, for the story.  To bring across the concept, even when I knew I could perform better.
To edit this, edit that to give the story life.
Art mimic's life.

Tomorrow.  Knowing I have done the best acting I could, stretched myself in the name of art, had an amazingly talented partner...
Tomorrow...
I will clean the ruddy house.

Cos I have so neglected it in my passion, my love, my fire to make M and mine "Red Shoes" act, amazing.


Did I mention that M is an awesome friend?  Cos she is.  Talented, fun, gorgeous and dedicated.  I feel honoured to have had her agree to work with me. *whopping humungous smile*

Happy.

Plus...

My bugalicious child had a sleep over yesterday and is home tonight.  For me to go and check on important things like "Is she still breathing?" and "Is she still cute?".

Happy.

Today is happy.

Friday, 29 June 2012

Little Cabaret of Horrors

Is my costume finished?
Noooooo...

Is our act amazing and finished and even more amazing because we choreographed it ourselves?  (with advice, of course, but still!!)
Yes!!

Have I covered my hoops in that shiny, shiny red tape?
Nooooo...

Have the other students created astounding and in some cases terrifying acts to entertain and shock the audience.
Yes!!!... and one of them it has taken me four weeks to be able to watch him do a trick because I get so scared of it's dangerousness.  I am developing some faith in his awesomeness now.  Soon I will watch without merely peeking through my fingers as they cover my eyes...

Will the Little Cabaret of Horrors be exciting and wonderful and OMG I AM GOING TO PERFORM IN PUBLIC and I may have some anxiety issues about this.

Yes! ! ! !

Last performance, at Knox Fest, I did notice a small moment of exhilaration and excitement when we were going to perform.  Here's hoping for more of that and less of the, "I must sit completely still and stiff so that I don't run screaming out the door" that is my usual style.

Either way, I have had So Much Fun planning and preparing and sewing that it will be all wonderful.  Amazing.  And the performance will only be horrible in the intended gruesome, macabre and tragic storyline way.

I'm more excited than terrified. :D




Sunday, 17 June 2012

National Institute of Circus Arts - Lucy and the lost boys

National Institute of Circus Arts - a video teaser on the NICA website for the Circus show we went to see last night.

Last night.
This is what we went to see.
It was overwhelming and beautiful, astounding and hilarious.

And just a little bit scary when you know some of the people doing these freakishly dangerous but so thrilling acts.  When you watch the video teaser, there is a trapese with chains instead of ropes, which I had never seen anywhere before.  And the couragous daredevil that is performing with them is my Aerial Coach of Awesome.  I am so lucky.

Off to the gym now, to practice, practice, practice my hoop act.

There are still tickets to Lucy and the lost boys, in Prahran, if you want to go out for an amazing evenings entertainment.

Monday, 11 June 2012

Who Am I? (Fresh Horses Brigade Linky)

Eden's Fresh Horses are out and running again and I am going to grab hold and ride with them, even in my immensely unfocused state.

Who am I?

For years, people have been asking me this question.  My first fionce was very big on it, often critical of my answer being superficial or vague.  His correct answer was, "I am me."  I learnt to give that answer and did get vague understanding of the point he was trying to make.  Yet another sad and dis-illusioned person who thought I was/could be much more than I am.

I am chaos.  I am a catalyst.  I am trying to become controlled chaos, a catalyst used under careful conditions, to avoid the explosions, the disappointment, the pain, the confusion that has always marked being someone who enters my sphere.  This is improving greatly, but I still let people down.  I don't think things through enough.  I decided last night to read more about psychology, to teach me how to understand people better.  To learn to interpret their reactions with accuracy.  Cos I really suck at that.

I am easily distracted.  I enjoy being distracted, because it is usually by beautiful things that make me smile.  Therefore I don't work hard enough at being focused.

I am in love with colour.  I am so lucky to have more colour in my life than most people, because as well as the visual spectrum, I see sounds as well as hear them, plus my alphabet has a different colour for each letter, even when typed in black.  I am constantly immersed in colour and this is also very distracting.
I have one friend who has the most beautifully coloured and shaped voice, who also speaks very fast and does not enunciate very clearly.  I can listen to him for hours, enjoying the images flowing through me, without undersanding a word he says.  Which is a real problem, because he is quite an interesting person to talk to.  I've been wanting to draw his voice for ages.
If none of this makes any sense google synesthasia.  It's a brain condition.  Simply said, my sensory pickup devices, such as ears, don't only send their information to the part of my brain that processes sound, they got entwined somehow with the visual part of the brain, so that I get to process the incoming data as sound and vision.

Pain also has a colour.  Not so nice.  When I am not in pain, it is transparent.  When I was younger, I found this transparency disturbing on the odd occasion it occured.  It felt empty.  Empty of pain.  Strange.  I have learnt to love it during the rare and very exciting times that it occurs now.  Pain is a hot pink, in case you are curious.  The deeper, darker the pink, the more intense the pain.

I am confused.  I never know what is the correct/expected/hoped for reaction when I am intereacting with people.  I try so hard to either do the right social thing, or occasionally, when I feel I am in a very safe group of people, to sort out my own, honest reaction to things that happen or are said.  This means sifting through all my reactions and thoughts and separating the "Reaction my Sister/ex Fionce/Husband/Dad/Mum/Peers think I should have, then comparing it to what is left over and thinking that might be my own natural, honest, real reaction, by which time the moment to react in has gone...

I am pretty happy.  I like this.  It's very nice to be happy.  I am resolved to enjoy being happy for as long as possible.

I am loved.  Is very good thing.

Did any of this make sense?  Do YOU make sense to YOURself?  I'm looking forward to reading all the other posts in this Fresh Horses Brigade Linky.



Edenland's Fresh Horses Brigade


Sunday, 10 June 2012

Shiny. With added glitter and sparkle.

This shiny rainbow of sticky goodness makes me happy.  


Our Hoop Class order came from Pretty Sticky
And yes, I do keep glittery purple fabric at hand in case of photo shoot moments.

Monday, 28 May 2012

Elsewhere

Lately, the urge to blog hasn't emerged.

My head is so full of preparations for our caberet show, Eurovision and getting my house clean enough for sleepovers and hoop making days that words haven't been my focus.

I am also preparing to have a "Flashdance" viewing at my house and I want to follow this up with en masse 80's video clips, to eddicate the Circus young-un's into a better understanding of the decade.  Cos it was SO FUN!

So, find something fun to do and I'll see you on your blogs. ;-)

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

Love her more than a Dragon loves it's treasure hoard.

I am so proud of my little girl.

Because she made the most yummy and awesome pizza on Mother's Day.


Because she chose me ballet shoes for Mother's Day. (Squeeeeee)


Because she calls Gran and then sits at the window to blow her long distance kisses and so excitedly catches the ones Gran sends back.


Because she draws amusing and adorable dragons.
I first saw this one at Circus and stared for a while before I got it.  Then I ran around showing all the coaches cos it needed to be shared.



Because she is working so hard to adapt to her new school without compromising any of her life ideals.


Because even when she doesn't want to try and explain the difficulties, she sighs and tries again and while I may not be able to fix things these days, she knows she has been heard.

Because she gets herself ready for school without nagging.  (I know, right! AWESOME)

And Because... Because...  she is so gorgeous and so doesn't play on it.

She wants to be acknowledged for her identity, not just her looks.

Love her more than a Dragon loves it's treasure hoard.

Sunday, 13 May 2012

Mother's day/Trance Dance

So.
Esse is so drunk.
Is fun.
We are listening to so much KLF.
The Daughter is making Pizza under the Mama's eagle eye.
Or the Daughter is making pizza while the Mama is dancing around the kitchen. 
Your choice.



What do you listen to when the mood takes you and you just NEED to dance?

Friday, 11 May 2012

Procrastination is an art form...

One of my most used phrases from my Uni years is "Procrastination is an art form and I am perfecting it".

A whole two weeks has gone by and in the "Bright light of Tomorrow Morning" is the day to present the finished product of glorious red shoes.


See those threads...?  Cool 1948 special effects for undoing the laces, then playing the film backwards to make it look like the red shoes attached themselves to her feet by magic.
Mine won't look like these, but here is my inspiration!
The  early part of the fortnight had gone according to plan, spent finding the right kind of shoes, choosing a gorgeous red covering fabric.

More time was devoted to researching and visualising the sewing of Sparkly Red fabric onto my shoes, thinking over possible difficulties and getting the procedure straight in my imagination.

This visualisation is the most important step.  Without a precise idea of how I intend to attach the sparkly red fabric to the shoes, I will mess it up.  Cut it wrong and end up not figuring it out until the third or fourth try and I am SO over that pathway.   And over the unpicking.  I detest unpicking.
This visual storyboard of sewing steps in my head of what I expect my hands to perform is a vital step.  All going well.

The next two days were lost to illness and chaos, which is almost an expected factor in any plan of mine and was okay.  (Yukky, though. )

The day after I woke, bright and with only a little cough, was ready to get into action!   Get moving on the housework, make those calls, do the shopping, race here and there and "Oh, how did it get to be bedtime already! Tomorrow.  I will focus on the Red Shoes tomorrow."


By this time,  the "Red Shoes" had become the "Lost Shoes".  A day of tidying the mess I live in,  socialising with after school committments and greeting the new Egg that is my Grand-Egg for the week.  Princess is so excited and involved with this egg.  (please let it not crack)  I made a tiny baby Blanket for Ash, the Grand-Egg and oh, wow, Princess got all teary and delighted that I had done it.  Her friend was awed and said wow so much I felt obliged to point out to her that it was very rough and done very quickly, at which point, my precious Princess accurately pointed out all the places where she could see signs of haste and imperfection.  She wasn't worried about these flaws, she loved the blanky.

Ash, the Grand-Egg, with his green blanky.

I will make a sewing Diva from this child, yet.  She has such a good eye.

At about 9pm, I found the shoes.   And promptly went to bed.

Party Weekend!  Fun!  Egg cracked!  Trauma, grief and really a lot of growth for the little Princess.

Maybe during the week, I will sew...


Thus, the red shoes are begun. 
And I have.

*still not finished, but I have tonight, yes?!*

Marking time

Sometimes, it occurs to me that the things I do to occupy my day are distractions to fill in the time until my daughter comes home to me again.

Even now, that she is 12, I look at the clock and think "30 minutes till school finishes and I get my baby back."




Wednesday, 9 May 2012

re: The budget.

(from my facebook page.  I decided it was important enough to copy and paste here)
While I understand the incentive behind getting single, unemployed parents back to work by cutting their payments, the second step required to achieve this was neglected.  There will need to be workplaces that are comfortable hiring people during school hours only, due to childcare costs being so high, and employers who have some way of coping when these single parents have to stay home with a sick child. 
I completely grasp that an employer is less likely to hire someone who may be suddenly called home to fulfill their primary responsibility of caring for their child if they have an option, so these parents being forced out into the workforce are going to have a tougher time than the average job hunter. 
Not to mention they will all be starting job hunting at the same time, so there will be immense competition. 
For the first year, maybe the Govt. could consider using the saved money to create some workplaces where each employee is a single parent and there are creches and childcare attached to the workplace, run by the single parents (who will obviously then need to get trained.)  If we expect every parent to be working then we need to make the workplace more family oriented.  They can no longer be considered separate if there is no Stay-at-home-parent to provide the means of separation between work and home.
This is as close as I get to being political.

Friday, 27 April 2012

Listening to her tiny heartbeat

My Cat is holding my Chocolate hostage.

Ever so delicately, she has one paw over my Cadbury's Dark Chocolate with Roast Almonds.  Claws retracted, not even crinkling the foil, but effectively preventing me from breaking off another delicious square and indulging in the rich, bitter treat I adore so much.

Because no one disturbs the Tabby when she's happy.

So love her paws.  Soft and large, compared to her tiny self.

If the Diva Dana is on your lap and you desperately need to visit the powder room.. you had best hope that she is distracted by something and leaves of her own accord.  Because no one disturbs the Tabby when she's happy.

Longing for a cuppa tea, but the Tabby has taken up residence on your shoulder.  Just ask, anyone else will make it for you.  Because no one disturbs the Tabby when she's happy.  

Need your coat to go out in the freezing, sleeting rain only there is an adorable girl cat, curled up on it and purring?  Well, get creative with your wardrobe, there is always the old coat my Dad wore back in 1965 stashed at the back of the cupboard. Because no one disturbs the Tabby when she's happy.  

Need to leave for work, but the Diva Darling is sitting on your shoulder and giving you toothy smooches on your nose?  The phone is next to you, call the sleeping wife two rooms down, who will come and give the cats breakfast so that the Tabby Diva girl will be leaving your shoulder of HER OWN ACCORD... Because no one disturbs the Tabby when she's happy.  

Diva SiDana, ruler of the household, has become interested in my typing, abandoned my chocolate and leapt delicately onto my shoulder, leaning her chest and cheek against my face.  I can hear her heart beating, so fast... and hear it slowing down as she becomes content and comfortable.

Cats calm us down, stroking their fur, watching them sleep, and now it seems I calm the evil, dominating shoulder cat down as well.  

My cat.  Her slave.  Is good.


Sunday, 22 April 2012

A total Squeeeee moment!

Luth said the loveliest things about me, last Sat.

*fade back to Sat afternoon*

Our coach had commented that a visiting Mum was considering (read as, being told she should, a LOT!) joining our hoop class.  This ended any other conversation as we Hoop Girls bounded gleefully over to where this innocent lady was sitting, waiting to pick up her son.  Hoops in hand, we exuberantly described how much fun she would have playing with us and how much we would love to have her join in.  She must have a very practical and calm mind, as she asked us what it was we enjoyed most about hooping.  Straight to the core of finding out "why" she might consider joining.

Various replies were about how thrilling it is when you master a skill you have admired or the fun of performing, that it is so fluid and full of movement, when Luth put her arm over my shoulders and said this.*

"My favourite thing about the class is watching someone who said she just wanted to learn the skills and never, never go on stage, as she didn't like performing, to see her go on stage for the first time to introduce an act, then do her own small hoop act, then join in a full group performance and now to be choreographing her own duo act for Cabaret.  That is exciting."

I so blushed and so felt amazing - Luth is such an amazing person, talented, brilliant, fabulous hooper, terrifyingly good on the trapese, efficient and all around awesome, to hear that and hear it from her felt pretty special.

It helped me realise that I HAVE grown, I HAVE improved, not just in Circus skills, but it my general confidence, belief in myself and willingness to be part of a community.


Luth has zoomed off onto her own career now, as an event manager and part of the Solid State Circus touring group.

   

This term, they are touring Victorian schools!  This is Solid State Circus's advert for their school performances and workshops for the kids.  I love these workshops, where children get a chance to learn a few circus skills after seeing some amazing tricks performed by Luth, Hemlock and Ty.

I am printing off the advert for Princess to take to her school, plus another for her best friend, cos I know how much joy I get from watching these performances and playing with circus toys, like hoops, juggling balls, diablos and flower sticks, so I want to help other people, have as much fun as I do!

And maybe... they will develop a little more confidence, like Luth described the changes in me over the last four years.


*I didn't have a tape player, so this is from memory, not her exact words.

Sunday, 15 April 2012

Slack Mum

Schools back tomorrow - and I don't wanna send her!

It seemed such an enormous amount of time for the Princess and I to spend together, two whole weeks.

We made plans, we were going to do some painting together, go for a ride, she was going to teach me how to play Zelda on the wii, there would be a holiday in my home town.

Saturday and Sunday, we indulgantly gave to ourselves jammie days and the energy we regained from that showed me just how exhausted she and I were. 

Monday was her maths (and philosphy, cos that's how she rolls) tutoring and three of her friends for a sleepover, so no Mama/Daughter time expected there.

Tuesday could have been a relaxing TV night, curled up together with cats, the remote and lots of cuddles, but I got an exciting invite to the Cabaret Meeting, for our next circus production.  It was a glorious evening of suddenly remembering there was a Me behind the Mama.  All adults.  Stimulating conversation.  Many kittens.  Cos kittens are fun (It was held at the house of a vet nurse, who obviously brings her work home... he he he)  This was very exciting.  I may have become rather caught up in the idea that I am still a person of my own, having been part of the Mama/Daughter team for so long, so intensely, now. 

So Wednesday!  Time together!  Shopping together day!  We were so tired, I slept all morning and she played her computer.   We went up the street and decided we would rather go back home.  I slept some more.

Thursday was another separate day, we both had friends over.  The kids sat inside and were quiet, while my friend and I put a rug on the front lawn, got the stereo out and played with our hoops.  Who are the grownups?  I'm confused?!

Due to funerals and other issues, our trip to my home town was cancelled.  Four days of... Princess and I not getting dressed.  We paraded around in our dressing gowns and I read while she played computers.  BAD MAMA!  However, at the end of it, I had some of that energy that I had been missing for so long.  And Princess had some truly amazing Minecraft designs.  That's creative, right?

Finally, I can report we snuck in some giggly family time, where I thrashed their tushies at Upwords, but Unca D. won the championship round of Wall Game.

2nd Tuesday, at a friend's from Mother's group,  a most enjoyable day as the two girls found a common ground with their iPods and the delighted voices were wonderful to hear. 

Wednesday, funeral. 

Thursday, painting D&D figurines as planned, but I spent my time with Miz Z, working on our future games. 

Friday was supposed to be an amazing trip into the city with her friends and their families to see Labyrinth on the big screen!  Car trouble turned this into watching Mirror Mirror at the local cinema, which was glorious fun, and a sleepover at my house.  Mirror Mirror has inspired in me a need to watch more Bollywood and find that random class in Bollywood dancing that I did once.  SO MUCH FUN!

Saturday I had an amazing class at Circus, where I realised how wonderful my physio is and I Danced! I danced like I used too!  I haven't been able to do that for decades!  Physio is a very good and wonderful thing.   I also realised I need to get my act into gear and find a new chiro...  Princess had lunch with Unca D and then we zoomed over to her best friends new house, where we helped them unpack.  Then came home and crashed big time.

Now today... the last day before school, she has one of her longest term friends coming to visit and I will not have any time with her.  

She is happy.  I am happy.  There are smiles and hugs and I love you's.  I think I need to change my game plan.  I think I need to focus on little five minute moments together.  Rather than big chunks. 

I'ma gunna go brush her hair.  Cos I love doing that, it'll take five minutes and we can be together.