Category Archives: culture

the voice Australia has a vision of loveliness

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I just caught up with “the voice” Australia the whole series so far including Rachael Leahcar and her amazing voice. As a woman living with disability myself I love her approach to the whole thing of being seen as a singer who happens to be blind as opposed to a blind singer. I love that in her and I understand why the show had to cover it, I just hope it doesn’t become a repeat of the Gerrad Gossins thing of a few years ago when Dancing with the Stars felt the need to raise his vision impairment every week.

 

Photo courtesy the voice Australia website.

Here’s the performance.

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the dichotomy of me today

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I’m swooning a bit today. Floating in the way I have been doing in the last few days, between, welcoming thinking too much, too deeply and feeling too much and not wanting to think feel or even do anything.

I crave conversation. I crave silence. I want to read. I need to write. I want a force-field around me protecting me from the bumps of all sorts, I want engagement.

I want to live in a true bustling creative dialogue of a city, where at 1 am you can still eat, drink, talk, be.

I want to join a monk and meditate and sleep and serve in silence and sleep from dark.

I want to change the world. And yet I don’t. I want to stay in bed. I want to travel.

I want to eat beans and rice and drink green tea. I want to immerse myself in rich wine cheese, flavours from the four corners.

I’m a bit of everything. Today.

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if ….

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If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Or daughter I trust.

I love this one — and I needed it right now.

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My granny is calling …. aka WWGD

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First let me say; my granny (my mother’s mother) has been dead for very nearly 10 years. So no I don’t mean she’s literally calling, or even from the grave or even in a meta-physical sense. I mean that I often wonder what she would make of the world around me. I find myself asking on the cusp of a new year;
What would Granny

  • do, (or perhaps more noteworthy not do),
  • think,
  • say (or again when would she hold her tongue), and even,
  • wear.

Those who know me offline (or, as we used to say online;  in real life) will know then I speak very highly of my grandmother and the lessons she taught me and the wisdom she held so lightly. She was in my view the perfect mix of a modern (for the time of) yet woman who knew of the value of occasion, manners, common sense and practical service of others.

I don’t know whether this has a lot to do with her or not. However, I’ve been noticing a distinct slide in the above, particularly in public. Perhaps I’m getting old, or more old-fashioned but I find myself shaking my head, more often than I used to.

This example probably makes me sound very old and grumpy.

I recently met family for morning tea at a shopping centre on the other side of Sydney where I  indulged in a fruity version of Earl Grey tea called Girlie Grey,  I caught two trains  back home to the Inner West. The journey to see my relatives was uneventful except that half a dozen schoolchildren, now on holiday to February  were somewhat boisterous in the carriage down the stairs from me, with the parents ending up joining in on the mildly rough play. You could see other commuters trying to remain focused on the newspaper or book in front of them. I’m not sure how successful they were. But really that wasn’t too bad.

Less than two hours later I made the return journey. On the train heading into Central, two seemingly unrelated women in their early 20s bordered a couple of stops after me. One had a small suitcase, and one a trolley. Both moved quickly,  but were largely concentrating on the goings-on on their mobile phones. Both  sat quickly in the vestibule area where I am required to park (the other parts of the carriage going up or down via three stairs apiece. Also at this train station  bordered two older women who proceeded down the three stairs to the carriage proper. One of the younger women smiled at me and proceeded to continue eating a banana and consulting her mobile. I smiled back.

A few stops later, but still a stop or two before her destination the frailer of the two older women climbed carefully and nervously up the stairs to enquire whether we were at a particular station. The somewhat fitter older woman, also seemingly unrelated to the other was the first to pipe up that she still had two stops until her declared destination.

It really was a smooth enough ride on the train. It was still bumpy though and the frailer of the two looked increasingly unsteady on her feet and more anxious than anything about staying on her feet.

I found myself, while parked well out of the way wanting to leap up by way of a temporary miracle if nothing else and offer this woman my seat even though that wasn’t possible because I was using my seat (my wheelchair). Between the two older women now both standing I caught the eye of the younger one who had smiled at me earlier and gestured to the older women standing around us. She smiled at me blankly and stayed firmly in her seat.
I posted the following as my status update on Facebook as we rattled through the city;

This will sound odd I guess but I wish I could stand up for people on mass transit. There is a little old lady standing on my train while two 20 somethings sit and smile. I know I can’t assume that they can stand but. Grrr I want a cattle prod some days

I can’t help wondering what would Granny do?  I suspect that even in her 80s, she would have wanted to stand and give her seat to the “old dear”.
I know this isn’t normally a  manners blog, and perhaps it was my schooling as much as my grandparent that raised me to think that that behaviour is odd. But either way that’s my two cents. Here’s two more:

I don’t see any harm in offering your seat to someone who needs it more than you do regardless of age

Though  unlike that author I think that it is not just one age group that must be reminded.

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On the changing of luck

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I won a lucky door prize. I never win anything. Here’s how …..

So I took myself off to my first real blogger thing today and actually did two of them in one hit. I spent the morning at the 2nd day of the Sydney Bloggers’ Festival at one of their sponsered “pro-blogger days”. Although I am certainly not professional or using this space as part of a grand business plan, I thought I’d have a look because well I’ve been doing it long enough if not regularly enough.

Yes I was inspired. I was overwhelmed. It was interesting most of all to be listening to folks talk seriously in Australia about making profits, businesses and livelihoods blogging. It was lovely to hear people talk of possibilities. I’m going to make some subtle changes to the site to reflect lessons learnt.

After a meeting at which a reader who blogs here playfully commented that I need to blog more and advertise less, I wandered through the nearly summer rainfall of Sydney to the Barvarian Bier Cafe in O’Connell Street (a key piece of data as it turned out) to the NuffNang Christmas Party, which dispite the two step disadvantage was great fun. I met some great Sydney bloggers which was very nice. Arguably the funniest bit was me winning the lucky door prize of a brand new iPod Touch! Given my dramas getting in the door that was kind of funny.

Shouts out to Phil (and Sarah) from A Beach Cottage for asking me a tough question that was nice to think about, Dani from DaniMezza.com for admiting to vanity, Steph from Absolutely Fuzzy for the bier (only my third this year mind you I’m the white wine girl normally), Viv from ishandchi for the smiles and for her night out, and wow to the Fashionate Traveller for the hair and the laughs. As for the Princess with a Backpack, I need your website!

Nice sites. Nice people. Nice night.

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When silence isn’t golden and a movie review

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My apologies folks for my lack of blogging. It feels like it’s been a long few weeks, but when I review I’m not sure what I’ve done exactly except have a birthday party or two. I’m doing okay.

So, after the craziness of Sunday’s birthday celebrations I got to do a little bit of armchair tourism in the form of a darkened movie theatre and “Eat, Pray, Love”. It was actually very nice to let a movie wash over me like this one did–but give me enough to really think about at the same time.

The scenery was lovely, particularly if I’m biased the stuff shot in Italy. Perhaps that’s because I liked that stage that Liz took–the replenishment stage and yes the socialisation that comes along with food. As well as being honest enough to accept the weight gain that goes with it! It gave me a rare craving for spaghetti Bolognese last night.

It certainly wasn’t heavy as far as movies go but as I sat there with FM quietly considering after the movie and sipping drinks inspired by Bali (at least in our own mind), I contemplated the lessons if any without any desperate need to hold onto them.

Normally when things like that start to fade around the edges of my memory I tried desperately to hold on to them. Somehow not this time. I feel sure that the experience of the movie has planted the seed of whatever in my head and I will go from there.

I have a small desire now to buy the book, but am wondering about just leaving the movie to be a movie.

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Sex and the City– no flop but …

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Ok, so on Friday night 2 girlfriends and I bit into the Big Media fuss that has been stirred around with Sex and the City 2. The reviews have been almost universally bad; including here in Australia. But for the sake of fun in my often overly serious life, and to celebrate friendship and life in general; we went. I used to watch the series and movie 1 when I needed lightness and to connect with myself and others in a less intense way. I was never easily shocked, but the knowing grin was often on my face. Likewise with this movie.  It was fun, and apparently we are helping to push SATC2 out of the box office blues its been labouring under.

There were a few pluses. Regardless, of the female dominated theatre, (30-60 year olds most with girlfriends), the storytelling was more balanced across the genders. I felt as much sympathy for Mr Big at times as for Carrie. In fact even more at times. The girls have largely settled  down (to the extent that some of them ever will). The stresses of husband and children, having them or not, dominate the women’s lives. The overseas trip is the fantasy element, both the location and the whole fact of 4 women dropping everything and packing bags (for the second time). It is fun and makes for interesting social commentary on gender. However, I missed seeing New York. It’s almost as if she is a character in her own right, that never signed on, apart from sets of people’s well-manicured apartments.

The laughs were there. For me, a return viewer there were the knowing (charactor or previous plot based laughs), but my friends who had not watched the seasons or SATC1 laughed too, knowing girl laughs or outright humour that was shared by all.

But it is getting old. There is perhaps more to be said, but they may not be the right girls to say it. There is only so many ways one can be type cast. The movie does drag a little in the middle of the two-and-a half hour run, especially compared to number one and the plot pivot point is predictable and, while certainly good looking, is over-blown.  The intro they did at the beginning of movie 1 would have been more useful to my first timer friends.

With talk of more sex already, my verdict at this stage is don’t. Leave well done done.

The best part of the whole night; drinking bubbles with the girls afterwards and just being friends. But here is a clip of my favourite scene, the two mums talking:

if you want to shout me a coffee great :-)

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Coffee cravings

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I like where I’m living. But it has one key shortcoming; a severe lack of close (and good) coffee. I am a coffee snob I’m afraid, so this stuff matters (at least to me).

So desperate times called for compromising measures. I do have a plunger, but sometimes a girl needs that frothy milk. So while I wait for my coffee machine to arrive, the old one that has sat unused for a couple of years, was brought down from above the washing machine. the coffee machineSo with beans already ground for a plunger, the coffee wasn’t wexactly super but over the last few days I have to say I have improved my coffee making skills. This morning’s coffee was certainly better than some of coffees I had in Melbourne.

So my tips for coffee making on this machine(or rather the things I’ve learned) are:

  • get specially ground beans or grind your own
  • if the instructions say the machine needs heating for 10 minutes before use have it in for at least 20 minutes.
  • tamp the beans for two more times than you think then tamp once more.
  • Do not re-use beans for more than one filter.

That is  my two beans worth. It might explain why there is a coffee cup in the sidebar (for donations if you feel inclined).

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and then

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PB and I were watching You’ve Got Mail tonight, the result of a time limited offer on PB’s behalf (and probably Valentine inspired as well).

Two brief thoughts occur to me.

Firstly I love courtship as one of the old-fashioned polite ways that these two modern charactors exist. I can really relate to that. In fact, I was told that I was very similar in logic to the heroine, which intended or not was a huge compliment. There is a politeness to their emails even in their simplicity, and even I feel to the way they fight, which, even at their worst seem to have an integrity and civility to them. Joe’s admission that Kathleen is beautiful although she is a pill comes to mind as does the willingness over the party table to let the other finish a sentence.

The other, more simply is the village that the Upper West Side and my wish to find “my village”, in time at least.

I know it’s a cliché, but I really want to see what happens next just so I can live in that head space a bit more often.

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