reaching out through the fog

I know I have spoken passionately about the fog before, but I do love the fog, and we are certainly gifted with many a foggy morn, in our part of the world.

When I look out my window and see the world through the gauzy veil, I don't know...it just feels like the world is wrapped in a cozy blanket; shrouded... protected.

We live near a river, in an old fishing village, and if you listen carefully on a foggy evening, you can hear the mournful sound of a fog horn in the distance. Instantly I feel transported to the river, where imagine I can see a fishing trawler with a cautious fishing crew at the helm. The boat creeps along the silent, still, dark waters, blindingly navigating the fog, journeying through narrow waterways searching for safety and rest, in the dock yards.

It has been foggy for the best part of a week; not just through the mornings either. Sunday happened to be foggy the entire day.

In part, the fogginess mirrors my current physical state. I am on the better side of the flu now, and am recovering.

Today, I took Alex back to pre-school for the first time since the dreaded lurgy hit us. I was still rather groggy, which only became apparent once some one spoke to me. I was off in my own little world, staring off into the hazy distance of thought, while waiting for the school doors to open. Then reaching out to me through the fog, I heard a voice, a second time. The person was standing right there, but I had failed to even realise that they were talking to me.

"Hey, has your family been sick too?"

I apologised for my lack of awareness..."Yes, yes. Sorry. We have all been sick. I am not really with it, quite yet".

I shook my head at my own stupidity. I usually have the observation of a hawk, the fog can affect such things.

I guess I also like the fog, because I am forced to use senses other than sight, to get my bearings, which tends to bring other kinds of awareness to light. The fog tends to bring out the details of nearer objects, since we are not able to be distracted by the distant scenery.

Yesterday, for example, I looked out my bathroom window. The old cedar in the backyard bore a single dewy droplet on the end of each of its spindly twig-like branches. The sun was straining through the fog, an iridescent white disk staring like an eye in the sky. The sun was angled in such a way that the droplets appeared like hundreds of tiny white fairy lights were adorning the sad, winter-bare tree. It was so beautiful against the grey.

Yes, I do love fog, but I will be more than happy to welcome back the clear blue skies and warmth on my back, when winter gives way for spring - in its own time.

The importance of sensible shoes

I went off to my Nordic Walking group last night.

I started getting a niggling feeling in the back of my throat - it could have been the beginning of the dreaded lurgy that Mister had, but I chose not to allow that fact to provide me with a much too convenient excuse, and pike out.

It had snowed the week prior and so I was bundled in a million layers and wore snow boots for the occasion. Stupidly, I wore the same rig-out this time.

Last week I went in the beginners group, a group made up of mostly retired people, a fact that didn't worry me in the least.

I got to talking with many in the group and it was quite an enjoyable first experience. The walking poles were next to useless though, since we were keeping pace with the snail, but I had a good time.

Nevertheless, the instructor suggested I give the faster group a go. "Sure" I said, and happily made the move over to the darker side.

Once we were off and err...walking, the walking poles began to realise their potential; we were motoring down the side walks, burning rubber BABY!

Actually after a short while I began to grow rather uncomfortable swaddled in my tonne of clothing. Boiling heat was radiating from every inch of my being, sweat pouring down my face and my feet. Oh God...my feet. I think I could probably strike a match on them. Burn Baby Burn, that was for sure. I could definitely feel a blister developing on the sole of my foot. Snow boots substituting runners - what was I thinking? YYYYOUCH!

I persevered. Gritted my teeth, puffed, panted and groaned my way through the lactic acid build up. I winced and whined as I dragged my sorry butt up English Bluff and down again. We passed a pizza shop on the way back, a fragrant mix of garlic, herbs and hot fresh bread wafting, teasing, luring me by the nostrils, MMMMMmmm....FOCUS!

By the time we made it back to The Run Inn, I was speechless and tomato red. I staggered gingerly back to the car and slumped into the drivers seat.

One of the marathon runners wandered passed with a cheery relaxed look on her face. She smiled knowingly at me, she thought I was a runner too. I could tell. I composed myself for those few moments of telepathic communication we shared..."get a grip girl...it was a damn WALK", I scolded myself, after she was out of view. God I am unfit!

By the time I reached my front door, my entire body felt like lead. My feet burned, calves screamed in shock and for some reason my kidneys felt like the little silver ball inside a pinball machine must feel, after a few frantic games.

Once home I retreated up to the shower and thought about the experience.

Last week was relaxed and social - boy do I need social. This week was more serious. It was all about fitness - boy do I need fitness. I have a decision to make. Social V fitness; fun V hard work hmmmm decisions decisions....It is a no brainer really.

I once saw a quote, which has always stuck in my mind. I do try to live by it. It read:

The easy road leads to the hard road.
The hard road leads to the easy road.
Given the choice - take the hard road.

Fine then... I will persevere with the exercise road, and who knows...it might even lead to something social as well one day.

So with that, I hang up my blister-making-snow boots come walking shoes and drag out the old, neglected in the back of the cupboard, covered in spider webs, runners....no regrets.

cherubs

Three weeks in, and all is going well with the gymnastics (sigh of relief).

Alex enjoys it a great deal, but still likes Daddy to stand close by.

As I assumed, he has proven to be a suitably strong boy and can do all the upper body strength activities very well. His "coach" calls him Mr Muscles, but he doesn't really like being called that.


He also likes the running activities. He thinks himself quite swift and therefore, likes to show EVERYONE how fast he is.

I think we are FINALLY on a winner, with Alex and the gymnastics. YAY!


Olivia is also doing exceptionally well with gymnastics. She listens well and is happy to answer the "coach" when required, which stands in direct contrast to Alex, who pretends other people, especially those turning their attention to him, do not exist.

As already mentioned, Olivia started ballet last week.

It took me some effort to get her the "absolutely essential" ballet outfit. They had the bodysuit/leotard everywhere, but of course none were in her size.

I did find ONE that fit her....one was all I needed-it was black, rather than the preferred pink, but on the back of Alex gushing in the change room, "Oh Olivia looks SoooOOooo pretty!" she thought she would prefer to have the black after all. Thanks Alex!

They also had an extra small fluttery skirt. It falls down a bit, but she will grow into it - doesn't have much choice in the matter anyway.

We even got a faux tie-to-the-side ballet top to keep her warm - it is the Barbie one picture here (oh dear!).

She wore the ballet outfit to her class today, and indeed, like magic it, it gave her more confidence, since she looked "pretty" like the other girls. Her little friend Mackenzie came along with us and that sealed the deal in encouraging her to give it a go, although Mackenzie could have cared less about not having The Outfit.

They were utterly cute. I was so proud (gush gush gush).

passion and sorrow

You need to have passion to end sorrow,
and passion is not bought through escape.
It is there when you stop escaping.

J. Krishnamurti in, Gerber M.E (2005) E-Myth Mastery, HarperCollins Publishers, New York, pg 12.

Nordic Walking

I was reading another blog about getting back to fitness. the blogger was saying that things had gotten in her way to prevent her from sinking her teeth whole-heartedly into her fitness regime.

I really want to get fit too.I

have written it before, and I will say it again.... I am NOT fit and am not too good at sticking to a fitness regime. I don't have much spare cash, so buying a gym membership that will inevitably be neglected after about two weeks of committed use, is not a good investment, for me anyway.

Well, it is the new year, and as always, there is that dreaded "resolution" word that gets bandied around throughout the first month.

I never tend to make resolutions - like rules, they are meant to be broken. Instead I have blinkered myself and have set about making some positive changes in my life, that would seem to resemble, very strongly I might add, the dreaded old new years resolution.....but for fear of jinxing myself, they aren't. OK?

I want to get our finances sorted. I want to start a savings plan - DONE. My husband and I committed our first allotment into the not-so-easily accessible savings account. This account has been opened for almost two years now, but until yesterday, had secured and harvested only spider webs, moths and salt damp.

The plan is, that this money be used for the purpose of holidays. We both love to travel, but since the kids have entered the scene, we have gone nowhere the frequent flyer program could not take us...and now that we have depleted that little avenue for escape, we had to take matters into our own hands, and save like every other person has to do - sigh!

The other thing was to get some regular exercise.

I am a bit of a homebody; bit of a social boob; shy and tend to prefer anonymity. While I could while away the hours reading, writing, thinking and other such stuff, these activities don't do much for ones sense of groundedness.

A marathon running friend of mine was telling me about her running club. I hate running. I am terrible at it. All the runners reading this are likely shaking their heads - it is just one foot in front of the other, right? How hard can it be? Well I find that I can run about ten metres before I begin chanting "I think I am going to die". My lungs burn and my brain feels like a dehydrated walnut rattling around in my head with each thumping jolt of foot upon pavement - "TAXI".

I do like hiking though and walking. These are activities that calm me.

Anyway, my friend was telling me that her running group also had walking groups. One was Nordic Walking. I had never heard of it and figured it was a hiking group and that the Nordic part was merely their club name. I was clueless to the fact that this was a style or walking technique.

Nordic Walking was developed to aid the training needs of alpine skiers during the summer months.

The walking is done with poles to work the upper body.

Today was to be my first day of the group...but it snowed and I commented to the other blogger that I was tempted to use my weak Australian constitution as an excuse for not going....but I didn't.

Thanks for holding me accountable (she called me a wuss). I went. It was GREAT and I certainly feel a whole lot better. I even got to talking to some of the others in the group, which heightens the experience, for me anyway.

I am thinking, this walking group might even give me confidence to try something a little harder down the track.....a LONNNNNG way down the track, perhaps even the walk to run group.

I can do this!

ballerina

Olivia started ballet classes yesterday - she is nearly 3.

I must admit, I was kind of living vicariously through her. I always wanted to do ballet as a little girl, but a certain person in my family reckoned ballet was "just for poofs"! I repeat that story often because NOW, I think it funny...comical rather.

But I truly, truly wanted to do ballet as a girl. That is quite a laughable thought if you know me, and can visualise me thumping around a dance floor without one ounce of grace in my step....please refrain from falling off your chairs.

Nevertheless, I enrolled Olivia in "Teeny Tiny Ballerinas". She went in shorts and t-shirt. Every other little girl in attendance arrived on location with the slippers, tights, leotard and fluttery tulle skirt "we simply MUST twirl now, mustn't we", I was told.

"I guess we must".

Olivia was quiet throughout the session, she didn't really participate. Only she and one other girl were new; all the other girls had started the term prior. It was very cute.

I was reassured that many of the flourishing girls were extremely shy at the start too, so I have hope for Olivia. She hasn't had much experience with group activities, so it should be good for her.

Another little girl, who will be in her pre-school class next year, was in the class. She was really good and full of seriousness and concentration when it was called for, and silliness when it was not.

The teacher was excellent. She was perfect for that age group, and made it fun for them.

I did ask Olivia if she liked ballet. She said no at first. When I asked her why, she indicated it was because she didn't look the part. So we went out looking an appropriately girlie outfit for her yesterday.

We got the slippers and tights, but haven't been able to find a small enough leotard. We will get one by next week though. I am just a bit restricted in my movement due to the snow.

The shoes were a big hit, she refused to take them off last night and they were the first things on, this morning.

I don't think the ballet is for "poofs". In fact I would like to experience a real ballet. The Royal Winnipeg Ballet in Manitoba is supposedly pretty good here in Canada. I am even thinking of going to see something when a production comes to Vancouver. The ballet is something I would truly like to experience.

More Snow

Once again it has snowed in the town that "NEVER sees snow".

It has snowed all day- large clumpy snow, then small soft globs, almost like hail.

This will have been our third significant snow for the season. The snow really is beautiful as it falls. I like the large clumpy flakes best, it is as though the Gods are having a pillow fight and the pillow contents are fluttering down to earth.

I have decided that snow is a living thing.

When it is born, it is so fresh and light, and brings much joy to so many, especially the young and young at heart. Many can not help but stare at it in wonderment, oohing and arrhing, and wondering about its future...will it still be there in the morning? How long will it stick around? Will it cause much destruction? How high will the snow pile grow?

Once it stops falling, we are left with the reality of it - a messy mass, that won't clean up after itself, quick enough.

Then later on, as it dies, the once crisp, once white, once fluffy snow- so pliable, enchanting and delightful in our hands- turns grey, and kind of decays into a slushy, muddy, repulsive slop. It is not fun anymore and we wish it would soak into the ground so our lives can return to normal.

As I look out at the pretty snow falling in such fascinating and erractic swirls, I can't help but think it unfortunte that many, myself included, will be cursing natures little gift - the life of snow.

Clones

I stumbled across this site through someone else's blog today. I thought it interesting to see how common one's name is...well at least in the USA. The USA IS a big country with almost 300 million people calling the place home....that is quite a few people compared to good old Australia - how many live there...20 million or something???? I forget.
I as surprise to learn that only 2 people shared my name, and my maiden name is relatively uncommon. However, I don't think the data base represents ALL names. I looked up some different names to just how uncommon they really were, one name was Oprah. Apparently NO ONE living in the US bears that name...funny? I then looked up Oprah Winfrey. The site noted the number of people with that last name and gave an example...Oprah Winfrey and yet, the data base still said no one living in the US bore that name...She must have been elsewhere on census night.
Anyway I thought it was a bit of interesting self trivia for you all to waste time over, like I did.

THINK people

Early last month we had a rather unprecedented snowstorm. The unexpected weather then snapped even colder, freezing everything in its wake.

A large cedar on our property suffered terribly. It was not uprooted, nor did a large limb come crashing down upon our house. Rather the tree split in two; one half ended up in the carpark, while the other half remained standing.

Since then, we have become a little nervous about our tree, especially when the wind starts to blow.

We have endured 6 quite severe windstorms this season - today we experienced yet another, and one more large limb went down for the count.

The limb did not break off immediately, it simply hung on by its bark and swayed violently for about 10 minutes before dropping to the ground. Of course this occured just as the kids began emerging from the nearby schools.

Many of the kids were fascinated by the rather precarious looking branch, and stopped to gawk up at it from a safe distance. Others wandered along in a daze, treading under its unstable path quite unaware of the threat hanging over their head. Then there were other kids who dared creep as close as they could to it, and tug at the caught limb to see if they could bring it down; nature took care of that in the end.

Next I know I have a raving woman on my doorstep informing me of the fallen branch.

"I know", I tell her, "I saw it".
"Well it nearly fell on the kids", she says as if I had somehow set it up as a prank or boobey trap.
"Yes I saw that", I tell her, quite at a loss as to what I could have done - we were in the middle of a bloody wind storm after all, "I have rung the council about removing it" (and they could have cared less).
"Well its dangerous!" she rants, glaring at me for a moment before turning on her heel and leaving. Her kids looked back at me accusingly - the same kids who were pulling the branch only moments before.

If you let your kids tempt fate with suspicious looking tree limbs in the middle of a raging storm, they might wind up getting hurt. Now why is that my fault?

Finds

My old lounge suite is made of a very poor design.

The back cushions easily fall off and are frequently removed by the kids. Whereas the seat cushions are fixed.

The stupidity of such a design is that everything falls down the back of the lounge, without any way of retrieving it.

Many an item has vanished into that black hole, and whenever the lounge is moved, for whatever reason, there is a jingle and a jangle of all sorts of mystery items.

Yesterday it all came to a head.

My daughter lost one of her beloved littlest pet shop animals down that icky abyss, and the wailing was simply too much to bear. So I lifted the couch onto its end, sending a tinkling of bits of pieces to the bottom. Then I took to the under fabric with a sharp knife.

I was actually dreading the thought of putting my hand into the gooey glizzards of that lounge to fossick around for the lost toy; there would probably be enough crumbs and lost food items down there to feed a nation of mice (shudder).

Nevertheless I did the nasty deed and rescued the toy. I also found three matchbox cars, a toy motor bike, several puzzle pieces, two odd socks, four crayons, a pen and a brown pencil, a Boots the Monkey figurine, numerous crackers and Cheerios, a dogs worth of fur, crumbs galore and one blue Smartie.

The vacuum cleaner did a good job of syphoning up the crusty bits, so now the couch is a little less ...well, funky.

While I was more than a little repulsed by the whole exercise, the kids were delighted to be reunited with the long lost items, and eager to replace the missing puzzle pieces with the corresponding puzzles.

So we ventured upstairs in search of the puzzle boards, which happened to be laying under an elephant's weight of assorted unlabled boxes, sitting idle and unopened since we moved from Australia, almost two years ago.....or more.

We decided to go on a search and discovery mission and find out what was in all the boxes.

Much of the stuff my children had not seen before, and so their excitement was well worth the clean up effort after we were done.

I found a box containing the headpiece from my wedding day, wedding shoes, bridesmaid dress material, leftover invitations hymnials and thankyou notes, but also in that box was a newspaper clipping of a letter I wrote fifteen years ago.

The letter was in response to some sour grapes and rather prejudiced views by commentators and public alike, who found the 1992 Australian of the Year - Mr Mandawuy Yunupingu - to be an unworthy recipient. I begged to differ.

There was also another newspaper clipping. This one included a photo of my Grandfather, who passed on almost three years ago. He was handing out an award to someone, of behalf of an organisation he was involved in.

In another box I found a variety of long lost jewellery, collected or given to me over the course on my lifetime. I even found a silver Humphry B Bear pendant, which has to be nearly thirty years old.

I found a purse given to me by my late Great Grandmother. In it were one of each denomination of Australian coin; every one dated with the year of my birth and wrapped in a note from my Great Grandmother, urging me to keep her hand collected gift. The note was dated 1977.

There was also a bamboo flute, which my Dad made for me from my Grandparent's bamboo ...umm....patch. It too, must be close to thrity years old.

We carted down a pile of board games, which intriged my four year old no end. Most of the games had a recommended age of ten years on the box, but this didn't deter his interest, and next I found I had Monopoly set up and was involved in a lengthy discussion about the game's objectives and rules....that was until Missy Mopps kicked the bankers tray over and scattered the meticulously arranged and colour coordinated real estate cards - then she was all over red rover and I was now having to stem the lead up to world war three.

With Monology packed up, Chinese Checkers followed, then Kwatro and then ....my husband came home. It was 6:30pm and dinner hadn't even been thought of. Where DID the time go?

We had fun sorting through all that stuff. I am glad that I lugged that chest full of memories and moments halfway across the globe; past connects with present...one generation to the next. Let the games BEGIN!

Anticipation

Do you ever get the feeling that you are on the cusp of something?

Most of the time we fail to analyse this "feeling" too much. But we feel...something.

With great anticipation, the nervous energy surging through our veins builds.

Have you ever observed a dog who has to sit still while his owner retrieves the leash prior to a walk? The dog seems to know what is to come. He knows that it has to be better than the narrow confines and boring predictability of his daily drudge, but he can not make his owner retrieve the leash any quicker, and he would probably be scolded for voicing his impatience, thus diminishing the sweetness in attaining his wish to be set free...however fleeting the moment. So he sits...kind of...practically quaking with excitement and wanting with the thought of being let out, into what and to do what? Who cares... it is just a different scene, an opportunity, and he has faith in the protection of his master.

I'm feeling a little bit of that today...it may pass without a whimper, it may not.

Vitamin D

When one is constantly stuck inside, it can get very old, very quickly.

We have endured some pretty strange weather in this last month: flooding, snow storms, wind storms and torrential rain.

Last night we had the 5th severe wind storm of the season. The trees outside were lashed about like cheerleader pom poms.

Earlier in the day though, we were fortunate enough to have had some sunshine, and it is almost a criminal offense for any who are able, to spend such a gift inside. So of course, in 5 degree weather, we thought the beach would be a mighty good place to be.

With pails in hand, we set out for a spot of rock collecting along the shore. The kids thought it was fun, me...well, my hands were stinging red and are now cracked from the cold I felt.

Cobie the dog, was positively shivering while Alex and Olivia took their sweet time in selecting JUST the right stones for their collections.

Despite the frostiness of our outing, I am glad we made the effort. We are all definitely much happier for our interlude with the outdoors....and can certainly live without Adelaide's 40 degrees that was apparently happening at the same time.

the drawing potential of snow

I love snow in Vancouver. We don't get a whole lot in the city. Generally, one needs to venture into the mountains to have a decent experience. There have been some notable exceptions though....

One needn't travel two hours to Whistler to enjoy a spot of skiing, although Whistler is regarded as THE place to go.

Vancouverites can enjoy a spot of winter sport and fun in one of three mountians, all within 30 minutes of the city: Mount Seymour; Grouse Mountain, which requires one to journey to the summit via gondola (excellent, but quite pricey); and Cypress mountain.

What I enjoy about snow in Vancouver, is its apparent ability to recapture ones youth and draw out the inner child, even when no snow was ever present in our pasts. I find that quite an incredible phenomenon.

Yesterday was a nice clear day; the best weather day forecast for the entire long weekend. Consequently, we decided to bundle up the kids and head for Mount Seymour.
On the way we stopped into Canadian Tire to scoop up a couple of the few remaining "toboggans" of the season. Yep, winter has just begun, but we have learnt that winter accessories really need to be purchased in early November. Nevertheless, the toboggan, though basic, worked as well as anything else, so who cares!

No one in our family has ever tobogganed before - remember we are Aussies and come from Adelaide, a place where the locals shudder and shiver if the thermostat hovers in the low teens CELSIUS.

We began our day by experimenting on a piddly patch of snow with an inclination of about 10 degrees. It helped us all gain confidence. It was fun. Much laughter was interwoven with screams of exhileration and glee. And as I looked around at other participants on the mountain yesterday, I noticed a majority of happy, shining, smiling faces and hundreds of families enjoying time together.

This vision of adults and children laughing and playing, made me realise the gift that snow is.
Many family experts and discussion boards speak of the importance of quality family time and play, and snow appears to offer the perfect opportunity to get out there, spend time together and let loose.

I saw a mother and her 13 year old son tandem tobogganing. They were travelling rapidly down the more thrilling slope, we eventually graduated ourselves to. At the bottom, they crashed hard into a snow wall barrier and fell into a heap of tangled arms and legs. After a brief moment, they gathered themselves together, looked into each others eyes with a surprised expression and then collapsed into a roared of laughter. "That was the BEST ride of the day, WOOOO!" said the mother. Her son agreed, and they began their ascent toward the top for another slide down...another joyful experience.

We also had a lot of fun. Our 4-year old, is normally quite a timid fellow, but by the end, he was very willing to slide down by himself, running back to us each time, enthusing,"did you see me, did you see that!" Of course we did.

I took our 2-year old down. Once, my hat fell over my eyes obstructing my vision. I felt us travel up the curved snow wall barrier at the end. I was holding her....we stopped motionless.....then we tipped and rolled. I landed on my side, and lifted my hat up so I could see. Our 2-year old was face down in the snow. When I picked her up, she appeared to be covered in little frozen diamonds. Her face was red from the cold, but her eyes twinkled and she wore an expression of sheer delight, which prompted a big hug from me. "Was that fun? I asked, knowing the answer. Big nods of the head followed before she ran off to repeat the experience.
I know you don't need snow to enjoy time with family, but there is something magical about the snow, and it could be my lack of experience talking, because we are rarely inconvenienced by it, unlike other communities.

Even still, whatever fate shall bring me, and however long my life, I reckon these snowy family experiences will shine out in memory like lanterns on a bleak night.