Say My Name

The post office lady knows my name, and she says it correctly too. My name is not common and there are quite a few variations of my name each with a different pronunciation. For most of my life I hated my name. No one knew how to say it, or spell it and I was always correcting people and I noticed people just tried not to use my name because they weren't sure. It would trip them up and they didn't want to go there.

This struggle is why I make an effort to use people's names when talking to them. As Dale Carnegie says a person's name is the sweetest sound in the world. For that reason when someone uses my name, saying it correctly and spelling it correctly (it took my mother-in-law 4 years to spell it correctly on the Christmas card) I do a little dance inside and instantly mark that person as someone special.

We have a PO Box, it is down the road at a little corner shop that also serves as post office, newsagent and TAB. That lady that runs it knows my name. Of course she does, it's on my mail that she stuffs in there each day. And given the amount of online purchases I make, especially around Christmas, a lot of boxes are lying around with my name on them waiting for me to collect. Over time she started asking my about my life and other bits and pieces and our relationship started to form and grow. But here is the thing, I don't know her name.

I know quite a few things about her, like she has a dog who is very old and doesn't move much and she doesn't have any children. As soon as I walk in she goes behind the counter to get my mail and my latest purchase, her service is wonderful, she asks about my day, I ask about hers. I smile, she smiles, we chat. She uses my name, and everytime I hear my name it feels like a dagger in my chest. It's too late to ask for her name now. Our relationship is too far gone. We have been acquaintances for years, and I cannot just walk in say "hello" and "FYI what's your name?" But I know she knows I don't know and everytime I hear my name spoken I cannot help but feel her mentally saying to me "Say My Name".

Trapped

A client of mine recently passed away.  He had not been a client for very long.  Less than a year.  He was in an aged care facility.  In my work I have been to quite a few of these place.  They are all the same, as soon as I enter these facilities I feel claustrophobic.  I can sense it, that feeling of being trapped.  I tell the person at the front desk who I have come to see and am lead down a bright white corridor, or several, until I reach the right room.  There is always a picture frame next to the door, for a picture of the person inside or their name.  The turnover must be high if they aren't even going to bother putting your name on the door and instead hope someone puts a picture of you in a frame.  I knock and enter.  More white.  The resident lays on a single hospital bed looking at a TV connected to the wall.  There is a chair next to the bed and a little cabinet in the corner of the room for what is left of their personal belongings.  Some are fortunate to have an ensuite, which is usually a showerhead over a toilet.

There is always a window.  It doesn't open so there is no fresh air, and most of the time the view is of another wing of the building.  Most of the residents have pictures up, and it is always pictures of family; spouses, children, grandchildren, brothers and sisters, parents, nieces and nephews and sometimes even their pets.  I like to look at the pictures, see the resemblances and while I never say anything, I wonder if any of these people come to visit.  I remember one client who covered her whole wall with pictures of her niece and grandnephew.  It was all the family she had, but her niece without fail visited every second day.  This woman was the happiest one I had ever seen.

I conduct my business with the client, I smile, I want to appear happy, I want them to know everything is ok.  But on the inside I can feel my claustrophobia building and my eyes darting for the nearest exit.  I smile and leave and walk back out.  There is no nurse to show me the way and I usually take a wrong turn and stumble into an activity room or a lounge.  The residents are lined up watching TV or playing bingo.  No one talks, no one smiles, and the nurses scuttle about making no eye contact.  

The worst places are the ones that have the doors looked.  You need to go to the front desk and request to be let out.  In those moments I instinctively reach for my throat.  I worry the nurse will say "No" and I'm trapped in a building with no fresh air and no way out.  I couldn't live in a place where I was locked in and trapped.  For all the decorated websites about how wonderful and comfortable these places are, you are still trapped.  And while I understand how important that is for some of the residents there, that claustrophobia is palpable.

My client was only admitted 3 months ago.  On his first day he managed to escape his room and they found him trying to climb the fence to escape.  He wanted out. I wonder if in that moment he gave up because he must have had quite a bit of stamina to achieve that feat.  Yet 3 months later and he is gone.  He must have felt trapped.  Maybe they all do.  Maybe that is why the turnover on the rooms is so high, because when you are locked up and trapped, what is there left for you to do with your life.

Overcoming My Addiction

It started innocently enough.  I had recently become a bit of a royalist and was just a little bit obsessed with Princess Kate and her pregnancy with Prince George.  When I was stuck on hold or checking my email, I found myself wandering online and searching for the very latest news on all things Kate.  Once the news broke that she was in labour it only got worse.  I was checking news websites every quarter hour and in my searching I discovered Daily Mail.

As my eyes devoured the pictures of Kate and George (and William in a few of them) my eyes discovered The Sidebar.  It was packed with snippets of celeb gossip just begging me to click to open.  It was like a box of chocolates, I wanted them all but I didn't know where to start. This website was feeding into my innate female nature, you know that need to bond with other women and share stories, known today as gossip.  I kept going back for more, for those poorly written articles full of bad grammar and spelling mistakes accompanied by blurry, off centre photographs.  My celeb knowledge was growing exponentially as was my addiction.  I would get to work and the first things I would do was check out the latest on Daily Mail.  On weekends I would find myself pulling out my iPad and just popping on for a quick glance.

Over time this drug was not enough, I needed more to feed my growing addiction.  The best place for that of course is the workplace and it was so easy to just slide into the underground office grapevine.  I had moved my addiction from a computer screen to the bathrooms at work, the kitchen at work, the back corridor and hushed conversations at the break table.

This wasn't what I wanted.  It was not the kind of person I wanted to be and I didn't want a reputation for being that girl you cannot say anything to because she will tell everyone.  Gossip destroys everything in it's path.  I had to get myself out.  I had to cut my addiction cold turkey and that meant not only staying away from it at work, but cutting myself off from where it all began, Daily Mail.

Staying away was hard.  My addiction was now a built in habit.  I had to be fed my gossip, I had to know what was going on, I wanted to be told gossip and nod my head and say "I know, it was on Daily Mail, YESTERDAY".  Part of me enjoyed being in the know but I knew I had to stop.  

Even now, sometimes I catch myself wandering over.  Just a quick glance I tell myself.  And I start, but then I pull myself up and force myself to close the website.  My rational self knows it is all rubbish and adds nothing to me as a person.  In those moments I need to remind myself in order to improve myself and move myself forward I need to fill my head "with the good, clean, pure, powerful and positive." (Zig Ziglar).  And when I say that to myself, I close the website and go in search of it's antithesis, positive and uplifting content that grows me into a better person each day.

Breaking Up

I am a committed person.  When I find someone good, I commit to that person.  I know there will be times in our relationship when we hit a rough patch, but I have faith those times will come to pass and all will be good again.  My most recent hairdresser (lets call her J) and I have been together for almost as long as I have been with Hubby.  I was actually seeing someone else at the time, J would apply my colour and then my hairdresser would come in at the end and do a quick cut and take all the glory.  But she got pregnant and once she left I just ended up with J.  I hoped it would be the start of a wonderful relationship.

For a long time it was good, and over time it got better, but at some point, maybe a year ago, we both became complacent and stopped making an effort.  I would tell her what I was after in vague detail, but allow her to be creative and work out what would suit me best.  I think she just got a little lazy, afterall I was such a good client always keeping the 6 week appointment standard for colour that she probably stopping putting in the effort.  I was no longer happy with my hair.  There was nothing really wrong with it, it just wasn't what I wanted, but then I didn't really communicate it clearly in the first place and did allow her to do what she thought was best.

I got bored, as I do, and decided to go brunette, which she has done for me before.  Dark and chocolatey were my instructions.  The result looked very coppery to me and I wasn't happy, but all I did was smile, told her she did a great job, handed over the money and booked again for another 6 weeks.  Less than 2 weeks later the chocolate part had gone and my hair went copper.  I broke the greatest sin of all by rushing out to the supermarket and purchasing colour in a box.  That evening I had the exact colour I wanted to achieve.  When she came back for the next appointment she noticed my hair was not her work.  I told her that was the colour I wanted and she said she could do it.  She failed and again I said nothing.

It was at this point other people started to get involved and suggested that maybe the relationship was not working and that perhaps it was time to find someone else.  I knew deep down they were right, but maybe I didn't have the guts to do it, or maybe I just felt that after all this time I owed it to her to stick it out.  And so I did.

At the end of the year I decided it was time to go blonde again.  I assumed, like we had in the past that this would take several visits as we went from lighter shares of brunette to dark blonde and then work our way up the peroxide spectrum.  However when I told her she assured me she could take me straight to blonde.  I trusted her, she was an expert, had the training and we had a history, and what did I know about hair colouring anyway?  After 3 hours and being bleached 3 times I couldn't take it anymore.  I needed a break.  My hair was now a lovely shade of sherbet orange.  She told me she would fix it tomorrow.  The next day and another 3 hours, and while the colour had improved slightly it was still orange and she has to take several inches off because of how damaged my hair now was.  

I paid, booked again for another 6 weeks and then tried to stop myself from walking out in front of on-coming traffic.  I now knew this relationship had run it's course.  It was time to break up.  As our 6 week appointment slowly came up in my diary, I cheated and saw someone else, someone recommended by a friend who has great blonde hair.  She is the best one I have ever had (and to Hubby's great satisfaction, half the price).  I then messaged J a week out and told her I was away for the weekend and would need to rebook.  This was not a lie, I was away and at the time I made the appointment with her I didn't know I would be.  She asked me when to rebook and like a coward I said "in the new year".  A few more text messages were sent over the next few days and I ignored them.

Even though I now have my best hair yet (aside from the all the damage of J's over bleaching which has cost me a keratin treatment and will take all year for my hair to grow out to be the same length) I am not pleased with how I dealt with the situation.  I need to learn how to break up with people because so far, whether a hair dresser, personal trainer, ex boyfriend or even an old friend, my method has been to not return the calls and messages.  Next time I need to stand up to my fears (of what exactly I am not sure) and people pleasing nature and just say, "This isn't working, I think it would be in both our interest to go our separate ways."  I just wonder what the consequences of doing that would be....

Solitude

I am an introvert.  I used to be bothered by this at lot (which I will save for a later time) but then I came to embrace it.  Hubby is also an introvert.  After big family gatherings we just go home and sit on the couch and put the TV on.  We don't really watch it, but rather escape into our own little worlds.  I love that Hubby is an introvert just like me but, as much as I love him, I still need some time just to myself.  Time in pure solitude.  Of course this is difficult to do, it isn't easy to ask for some solitude. 

Hubby loves to sleep in.  That is his thing, his reward for a long week at work is to sleep in on weekends, as late as he can, or as late as I will let him.  He even enhances the experience by staying up really late on Friday and Saturday nights watching man shows or man movies (you know, guns, blood, lots of heavy vehicles at high speed) just so he can get enjoy an extended sleep in.  On these nights when Hubby sets himself up for the night after a cocktail or two I go to bed early.  Mainly because after a long week at work I am done and exhausted, but also so I can spend some time in the bedroom alone, listening to my music and lying in the middle of the bed with my arms and legs spread out and my head nestled between both pillows.  It is my second perfect time of solitude escaping into my thoughts and dreams and slowly dozing off to sleep.  

On Saturday and Sunday mornings I wake with the sun, refreshed and revitalized and with another few hours of solitude.  My baby Raz is a morning dog, (his brother, much like his father, prefers the sleep in) and he always gets up with me.  Each weekend is the same, into the kitchen to turn the coffee machine on to warm up, then wrap up in a trackie, hoodie and ugg boots and then make the coffee.  With my steaming caffeine hit, I sit in the lounge with Raz on my lap reading a book.  I can sit like that for hours if I have the time.  It is my ideal way to spend the weekend; so quiet and peaceful and I look out into our garden and beyond with the windows open and the crisp air lightly blowing through, the whole neighbourhood is quiet and I sink a little deeper into the armchair feeling very contented with myself and life in general.

These moments of solitude have come to be the highlights of my week, the time I most look forward to, because in these moments I recharge myself with the energy to see me through the week full of clients and colleagues and the weekend full of family and friends.  My perfect moments of solitude clear my head, set my mood and allow me to venture forth creating beautiful memories for the week ahead.

Where Is The Serenity?

Today I returned to work after a blissful 2.5 weeks off.  Hubby and I had a wonderful time, we took a trip down South and explored some beautiful countryside and powdery soft sand beaches and also spent some time at home, pottering about inside and out slowly working through our list and making our house feel as homely as possible.  I was in a fantastic frame of mind.  As relaxed as I had been all year and looking at everything with rose coloured glasses.  The days were long and pleasant and everything we did was done in a casual, leisurely pace.  Then last night I had to face the reality, that this state of nirvana was about to be over.  That was not a conscious thought but it must have existed on some level as I spent the night tossing and turning and not sleeping.  When I finally gave into my alarm I felt more tired than when I had gone to bed last night.

But I was determined.  I was going to ensure that my more positive outlook on life would flow through into work and that I would be positive and have a good day.  It was painful, I had 2.5 weeks worth of work, un-neatly piled up on my desk and the girls were only too keen to share with me the gossip I had missed out on.  As the day wore on and the piles became smaller and I found my groove again, I was starting to believe that this could work.  I could incorporate my holiday vibe into my work environment.  However as 5pm loomed the real office talk began, the complaining and whining and I politely nodded and smiled as I listened.  I wondered, was I that negative before my holiday?  I think I know the answer to that, and I'm not happy about it.  I did the only thing I could do.  I walked away.  I was not going to get caught up in all that rubbish again.

Holidays are a wonderful thing.  Of course there are just never enough of them.  In my happy, anxious free time, I gained a lot of clarity about things on my mind.  Answers to questions pondered became crystal clear.  So much so I felt like the answer was always there right in front of me, I just failed to see.  I finally worked out the direction for my life for the next few years, and I like it, I am excited by it and the more I picture it, the more I want it.  Everything seems to have fallen into place and I have a sense of where I want to go and how to get there.  My current job is not in that picture but that is ok.  It serves a purpose for now and when I think about my new goals it puts my job in perspective.  Just that, a job, an income, a place to earn money for now.  And with that in mind I can walk away from the negativity in the office.  I don't need it, and it serves no purpose.  I can go to work, do what I need to do and with a little bit of effort and mindfulness, stay in my serenity state of mind, hopefully until the next holiday.

Slow Down

I had some paperwork for a client to sign today.  I sat with him and the papers and handed him a pen.  I told him to sign on each page.  He carefully and thoughtfully signed on each page.  He signature was slow, deliberate, and I found myself starting to get irritated that his signature wasn't quick and fast like mine.  He had just finished the first page when I would have been done by now.  He handed me the first page and I looked down.  He had the most beautiful handwriting, his signature was a piece of art.  I looked over as he signed the next page.  His pen moved across gracefully and he wrote clearly every letter in his name.  It was as if he was typing his name into Word and using a fancy font.  

As I watched him sign each page I became memorised.  The pen was dancing on the paper and I was envious of the detail it recorded.  I wished my own hands could create writing that beautiful.  He handed me the last page and I signed away.  My scribble.  Just a quick flick of the pen, done, next.  It doesn't even look like my name, it doesn't even look like my initials just a scribble my dog could have drawn with a pen in his mouth.  

When I sat back at my desk after he had left I looked at my notes.  There was my messy handwriting all over the page.  My penmanship says one thing about me.  Rushed.  Or maybe the correct word is impatient.  If I make a mistake, misspell a word for example, I just cross it out and write next to it or above it.  I do not have the patience to bother with white out.  I don't have the patience to make it neat either.  Just like school.  Most of the girls had girly handwriting and took the time to put little love hearts in their "i" 's.  Not me.  I wrote too hard and fast my hand would cramp up.  And here I am and nothing has changed.  I type whenever I can because it is less strain on my hand, and it is neater and faster.  And has spellcheck.

My client made me pause and reflect.  He has terminal cancer, not long to go and he still took the time to sign his name with care and attention.  Maybe it is time I did the same.  A reminder to make time each day to step away from this instant world and pause.  Do something with care, with attention, with detail and with pride.  Stop rushing trying to capture everything and do everything, but instead pick out the important bits, and do them well, with patience, to ensure a beautiful result each time. 

The Pause Button

Sleep and I have never been great friends, more like casual aquaintances.  She deceives me with a series of wonderful nights of sleep and just when I think this relationship can be taken to the next level she stops returing my calls, stands me up and goes M.I.A.  But of course it is never her fault, there is always something else to blame, and tonight that would be my mind.  

I find the bext way to spend a public holiday is getting out of the house and catching up with family and friends over a great meal.  Hubby and I drove to Sydney and went out with my mum for an enjoyable lunch where I devoured a plate of mussels and mopped up the sauce with buttery toast.  With a full belly Hubby and I chilled out back home half watching TV, half pottering about.  I was feeling good.  It was time for bed and I thought I would do a little reading.  This year I am all about habits and I am trying to set a good bedtime habit.  Going to bed at the same time and getting into a routine with removing all distractions and slowly winding down.  I did my reading and after 20 minutes turned the light off.  

It was hard, I didn't want to stop reading but I knew I should.  I wanted to get up early and go for a walk, my morning routine habit I am working on.  I rolled over to Hubby and snuggled in close but my mind was going off, ticking over.    I found myself thinking about work and had to remind myself that was not the time or the place to think about work.  My mind obeyed but instead of switching off it starting thinking about other things.  Bits of my past floating by in my head getting faster and faster.

I love listening to the rain.  I have always found rainy days the most perfect days.  I love the rhythm of the rain and the way it make everything clean, fresh, renewed.  The best smell in the world is that of rain, it makes me smile.  I had downloaded a few rain apps on my phone to switch on when I needed to relax and listen to the rain.  The first time I listened I closed my eyes and pictured the future.  I saw myself standing on the undercover wrap-around balcony of our dream house.  Looking out over the countryside watching the rain renew the pastures, pumping life into the cycle and there I would stand listening and breathing in the magical smell.  These thoughts relaxed me instantly and with these pleasant images I would wonder off into sleep.

Tonight as I listened and stood on that veranda, people appeared and stood next to me, talking.  I walked away and they followed.  I couldn't settle and relax and instead was tossing and turning and then the climax occured, where I started thinking about the fact I am not relaxed and not going to sleep and that is the end point.  It just won't happen now.  

I lay there for another ten minutes hoping for the best, but my eyes kept opening and I found I was staring at the shadows in the room for so long they almost started to move.   How I longed for a Pause Button for my overthinking mind.  Just 7-8 hours is all I ask.

I gave up and got up.  And here I am, out on the couch with a trusty Seinfeld DVD on, I need it during these times.  I don't have to think.  Raz joined me, ever loyal to his mum and I just need to wait for sleep to return.  Just enough so I can doze on the couch and wake up long enough to crawl back into bed.  I don't know about my walk tomorrow.  That can be dealt with in the morning.  For now I need to lie here and wait until the thinking slows down enough for me to rest and relax, and for sleep to return once more.

Hello Friend

I caught up with a friend last week.  We had not seen each other for a few years and she has just moved to The Coast from Sydney, as I am sure a lot of my Sydney friends will, given enough time.  We actually met through blogging, a few years ago.  Meeting people through blogging is a great experience because there are so many blogs out there for people to choose from.  And a few special people choose to follow you, for whatever reason, and those people you usually have some kind of connection with.  We just clicked straight away, similar goals, ideals, dreams.  Time flew as we sat chatting over coffee.  It was almost like we had only just caught up the day before, we were able to so easily talk to each other. 

I met a girl a few weeks ago.  We started chatting and found out we had so much in common.  She asked for my phone number.  She was new to The Coast and didn't know anyone except for the people she worked with and her partner.  I gave it to her and we are catching up today.  I have struggled with friendships since we moved up here.  At first it was almost impossible because of the hours we were doing.  Then we moved and we seem to be the only people in this area without children.  We don't seem to have anything in common with the neighbours and I think they look at us and scratch their heads trying to work us out.  But with the majority of our friends an hour away it has been hard.  And meeting people now is hard.  I find it difficult when I meet someone and have an instant connection with them.  What am I supposed to do?  Give them my number and say call me?  It reminds me of dating and I don't know what the protocol is.  

One of the girls at work told me yesterday that she was home alone this weekend with her little girl and that if I was free I was more than welcome to come round and have a drink.  I feel so fortunate that suddenly I find myself forming a support group right here on The Coast.  I never felt lonely, but I did feel that I was lacking in some serious local, female bonding, it was something in the back of my mind, almost like a little note on my To-Do list 'seek out some local friends'.  Zig Ziglar says that "If you go looking for a friend, you’re going to find they’re very scarce. If you go out to be a friend, you’ll find them everywhere."  Perhaps I made this shift, or maybe it was because I stopped being so busy that I was able to stop and get back into life.  Either way I am going to keep on doing whatever it is I am doing, being a friend to everyone I meet and grow these buds of friendship I have been so fortunate to find.

Breathe

In - Two - Three and Out - Two - Three.  Time flies when you are busy, and the most tragic thing is I wish I could just pop back onto my blog and say I was caught up with something really exciting and 'noteworthy' but the reality is I have just been stuck in the generally busy-ness of life.  And health appointments.  Was it Round 2 or 3 of Bloods I had done on Saturday?  I am not sure, but I get the results today.  Because hey, when you have one health issue (PCOS) let's just keep digging to uncover more.

So here I am, so early in the morning it is still dark, finding myself drawn back to my blog and wondering just what I have done all this time.  I have Raz at my feet.  He is a morning Pug, but it's good, we hang out together in the morning while Hubby and Mr C snooze for as long as possible.  Every health appointment I have I keep getting told to relax (I wouldn't say life or my job is particularly stressful, just that I tend to be more anxious in general then most) so I now start my days with Morning Yoga.  It sounds so pious doesn't it?  But in reality when you are overweight and highly inflexible all it does it point out that you are just a little more than a few sessions away from achieving optimal health.  After all, trying to do some of the moves with a PCOS belly in the way is challenging and slightly mortifying (thank goodness I only have Raz as my audience).  I do feel slightly better afterwards, if only that my body has woken up a little bit more and seems to have caught up with my racing mind.

I have been quite busy around the house too, I have this great desire to Nest at the moment.  So a lot of time is spent at home cleaning and trying to sort things out.  Ever since we moved here I have had this To Do list.  But I think one of the great joys of house ownership is that there will always be something to do to the house/yard.  And really, if I did get it all done, what would we do on weekends?  So the list has gone and we will just potter about doing what we can when we feel like it.  Besides, unless I happen across tens of thousands dollars in the street, pottering is the cheapest option right now too.  And with only such a short amount of time left when it will be just the two of us, we need to save for our very Childless weekends away in the Hunter Valley, wining and dining.  Like we did a week ago. 

 

This is life right now, busy, but busy is the only auto pilot I have, so it might be time to jump onto YouTube, search yoga and so a quick session before the rest of the house starts to stir.

Cold People

There has been a bit of a heatwave going on around here lately, although it is difficult for me to know.  I wake up and turn the a/c on, get into my car and turn the a/c on and when I get to work (and park underneath the building) the a/c is also on.  Then after work back into the car and then home.  When clients come in and tell me how hot it is I smile, hoping it conveys the message that I can relate, when really I have no idea.

Hubby and I are cold people.  We love the cold, Autumn and Winter are our seasons, we prefer to dress in many layers that to wear a single cotton layer for the day.  I have friends that are hot people, they are loving it right now, on the weekends they are out at the beach or at the lake on the boat, they are in their element in this heat wave.  For Hubby and I, this weekend was our second weekend in a row where we stayed indoors.  We did pop out briefly for the required Vitamin D hit and fresh air, but most of the time was spent inside with the a/c on, nesting, cooking, cleaning, reading, relaxing and napping.  This is what we do.

But as soon as the air changes in late March/early April that is when we come out of hibernation.  I love getting up at the crack of dawn in those months and opening the front door and letting in all the fresh, cold air.  I LOVE the chill in the air, the crispness of it hitting me in the face.  I love to layer myself in wool and more wool.  I love to be out and about doing stuff, yes we are that couple in the coffee shop sitting outside in the morning air while the hot people cling to their hot coffees inside around the heater as if they had hypothermia.  We go out every weekend, to the beach, the lake, country day trips filled with wine tasting or antique hunting, we are in our element.  Oh how I long for those days.  

For now and the rest of summer we are retreating inside.  We are working on the house, quietly, and talking about our dreams and the future.  This weekend we have found ourselves nesting and making lists on what we want to do on the house for the rest of the summer and using this time the best we can because when the air changes it will then be time for us to step out and thrive.

Lessons Learned

I hope Santa was good to you.  He was good to me, although apparently one particular gift which Santa thought best to send registered post did not make it on time, but that just means another surprise later on this week.  Santa did give me the entire DVD collection of McLeod's Daughters, very Rural Dreaming indeed.  

And did you have a good Christmas Day?  Ours was interesting.  It was our first ever Christmas that we had in our new place and was a VERY good trial run for next year when both families will be coming over.  It was Hubby and I and his parents.  We made Buttermilk Pancakes for breakfast which worked out really well.  I then spent over 3 hours slaving away getting lunch ready in the kitchen.  I was so prepared, I had the recipes and every single ingredient ready to go and I followed it all to The T.  By 2:30pm people were getting hungry and I still wasn't happy with the lamb.  But I took it out and hoped the veggies would start to crisp up soon.  I didn't want to serve this any later than 3pm (at the start of the day I had planned for 1pm).  Hubby was in the kitchen trying to help me and it was at this time as we were trying our best to put a bodged up meal together he pointed out to me that the oven was set to grill, not oven.  I laughed, I had to, I was just over it.

Lunch was served and everyone raved about the potato bake.  That turned out great as I squeezed it onto the top shelf of the oven so that was cooked really well on the grill setting.  As for the veggies, they were cooked but not crispy and the lamb, well it was a little pink and my MIL has a thing about pink meat, if it isn't leather she won't touch it.  They were very polite and told me that the flavours were all there, which is a nice way of saying, "You tried and failed".  I redeemed myself with dessert, it was a store bought pudding but I made home made custard and I made it fresh as the pudding was cooking.  MIL told me I should have just bought custard from the shops and my FIL told me the custard wasn't ready as it wasn't thick enough.  I told them I was making it from scratch, so my FIL told me to add more custard powder.  I gave him a funny look and asked what was custard powder.  Skeptical as they were once they had a mouthful they swore they could never go back to store bought custard again.

So, at the end of the day, what did I learn from all this:

1) Perhaps Hubby and I should have a quite one next year with just the two of us (maybe three he joked - not funny).

2) When a recipe says to put the oven onto 170, check the oven is on the correct setting before moving onto step 2 of the recipe.

3) Find a better gravy recipe, red wine makes it purple.

4) When you are in the kitchen all day and your guests say that you shouldn't have gone to so much trouble (little late now isn't it?) and that you should have just bought everything from the shops and reheated it and that next year just have everyone bring a dish, take a deep breathe, walk away for a minute and remember that it is not personal, it is not about you.  It is not a criticism.

5) Seriously re-think next years plan that a merge of the two families means a merge of "Foodies" vs "Just add more custard powder" and exactly how will I manage that.

Sugar

I was a child of the 80's and that meant one thing, Sugar.  It was back in the day when sugar was everywhere, and it was only the dentist that seemed to have an issue with it.  The 'tuck shop' at school (now called a canteen) was full of the stuff, there were no healthy meals, lunch was a mini pizza if that is what you so desired.  Then of course there was the old milk bar/general store that you would ride your bike to with your mates or brother/sister, fill up on lollies and head back home for a sugar frenzy.  And of course there were the parties.  Ah yes, parties where no one had any allergies or food sensitives and it was all sugar and white flour in all their glorious forms.  We were all addicted, we got onto the stuff early and it stuck, there were no boundaries, it was sugar freedom.

Then in the 90's when we all became moody teenagers (from too much sugar as a child perhaps?) sugar hung around to give us our high, we didn't do coffee, we did sugar.  Then after school I worked in retail for three years, in confectionery.  Which everyone tells me is their dream job but I can assure you the fantasy is NOT the reality.  I gained 10kg and I can never eat a Lindt ball again.  But I digress.

A few years ago as I was enjoying a delicious meal of Crispy Shredded Steak I suddenly found part of my tooth in my mouth.  Naturally having had a perfect dental history I freaked out.  The next day the dentist gave me a filling.  I was not prepared for it and as such was scared for life.  A few months before the wedding I went in for a check up and FIVE points where located for needing a filling.  I had three done as the other two could wait until later.

Yesterday I saw the dentist as I had a very painful tooth and had stage one of root canal.  If you have never had this done let me suggest that you do whatever you have to do to ensure you never have this treatment.  I already don't like dentists and now they are on The List.  I am sure there are lots of contributing factors but I believe it all comes back to the sugar.  All those years it slowly worked it's way through my mouth and now at the tender age of 30 I am having root canal.  It is time to take it out of my life, time to break up.  Sugar, you are on The List.

A Funny Thing Happened This Morning

 

Hubby has two cars, his normal car and then he has his sports car.  An old yellow Mazda something-or-other that he bought when he was single and did up when he was single.  He is always meant to be selling it.  It was originally going to be sold to help pay for some of the costs of moving in together, then later to help buy the block of land, then to help with the wedding and most recently to assist with finishing off the house.  It still sits in the garage and I no longer factor in the several thousand that we could have.

Hubby has a really bad habit of clearing out his car and leaving everything in a bag that he just dumps at random in the garage.  I ask him to bring it inside the kitchen and we can sort it out together.  It never amounts to much stuff, just a few random items that would take less than 5 minutes to put away.  We went to a BBQ the other night.  I made a dish and brought with me a large serving of rice to go with it.  The rice was in one of Mum's old Corningware dishes.  Classic retro.  Before we went home that night our host gave us a nice bottle of wine.  As we pulled into the drive we collected what we could and left the rest for the morning, which somehow never happened.  Well Hubby cleared the car out a few days ago and left these items in a bag in the garage.  I refused to move them.  I snapped.  I had enough.  Everyday since I would come home, open the garage and see this bag staring at me, but I remained firm, I was not going to touch the bag.

Hubby felt this morning he would take the yellow car to work and give it a run.  I kissed him goodbye and as I went to fix my hair I heard the car engine rev up.  I heard him move down the drive and then I heard the engine sitting idle.  I stuck my head out the front door and the car was on the other side of the road and in the middle of the road was this bag of 'stuff'.  He had forgotten he had placed the bag behind the yellow car and therefore failed to move the bag out of the way, and as he reversed the bag went with him.  Hubby was walking across the road picking up a few items.  A large 4WD doing about 90km (in a 60 zone) came speeding along, Hubby got out of the way and this idiot driver hit the Corningware.  I heard the pop of his tyre, and saw the splatter of glass and china go everywhere followed by a shower of rice.  The driver turned the corner and was gone and I stood in the front door unsure whether to laugh or cry.  Hubby walked up to me. At least he had saved the wine.

It's Pouring

If we could graph our relationship it would look like one of those heart monitors you see on TV.  It would be a flat line with no activity, which is us just cruising along and then a sudden spike, short sharp and sticking out far away from the steady flat line.  This is when suddenly everything happens at once.  It is so true for us, we always say now that it doesn't rain, it pours.

Around two years ago I was temporarily unemployed sitting at home watching TV when I received a call about a job I applied for over three months ago, a job I didn't get and suddenly it was offered to  me.  It was also two hours away.  I said yes and we found ourselves with less than a month to find somewhere to live and pack up our entire life.  Then of course there is the house.  We took a break from the house when we pulled out at the last second from our first builder.  Everything stopped and then Hubby decided it was the perfect time to get engaged because all the stress was gone.  Not long after he put the ring on, the house was back on again.  Not only that but somehow, completely out of our control, the projected finish date was a month before the wedding.  

This week Hubby has an interview on Thursday with a professional organisation to gain chartered status, he has to also give a presentation and show why he should be charted.  Then yesterday morning he gets a call to inform him that he has an interview on Wednesday for the internal job he applied for on Friday.  I haven't seen him this stressed since before the wedding.  

He kept asking me last night, why does this always happen?  I told him this is just us, for whatever reason this is how it is for us and at the end it always works out and we get through it and survive.  I know it wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear but this is life and at times like this I like the huge spikes in our lives, the thrill, the excitement.  While it can be stressful I wouldn't change a thing.  Because right now we are both feeling very alive.

Feeling alive

I woke up today with a splitting headache.  I didn't want it to set the tone for the day but even though I tried it seemed too.  When I arrived at work I just wanted to crawl under a rock.  I really wasn't that productive and everything seemed to be a huge effort.  I didn't have lunch with me, I wasn't that organised last night, so it was off to the food court.

The food court down the road consists of Maccas, Kebab King and Wok Kitchen.  I went with Maccas, even though I knew I shouldn't have.  As I sat in the break room eating I suddenly chocked and pulled out a black hair.  Being a blonde I almost threw up then and there.  

Then in the afternoon a client called to provide me with some information that he was meant to inform me of 4 months ago and has now created even more work for me.  I couldn't wait to get home.

As soon as I walked in the door I was greeted by Mr C.  I decided to take him for a walk and J decided to come as well.  It was only 20 minutes but it was lovely and now I can say I have had a great day today.  Walking in the afternoon sun with my two boys shaking off the day, getting fresh air and for the first time all day, feeling alive.  And now I sit here, my blood still pumping from the walk, feeling energised and ready to do all I have to do tonight.  Tonight, dinner will be cooked, housework achieved and even a few wedding items ticked off the list.

So Close Now

Mr C showing off all the weeds at our future house, another thing to add to the "to do" list

Last week was just awful.  Everything just seemed to go wrong and I couldn't wait for it to be over.  I thought this week was going to be much better.  It hasn't turned out that way but somehow I just feel a little better.  

I only have two more days of work to go and then we are off for a long weekend in the City before having a two week break.  We need it and now that it is close I am already starting to feel better.  Slowly things are getting done and while I may still be stuck in some old habits (like eating Chocolate) I am in a much better head space.

My "to do" list is still big but I figure I have two weeks to get around to it.  I am not focusing on what I still have to do but just trying to take each day at a time.  Trying to keep the place tidy, keep my job up to date and just remain positive.  

I am looking forward to the break.  Looking forward to so much needed couple time with J, and getting out of the unit.  Spending days chillin out and then other days getting stuck into everything we need to do.  I'm even looking forward to spending a few days with family. 

Not sure what I will do tonight, potter about, read emails I have been putting off and do another load of washing.  And sweet talk J into ordering pizza even though our wallets and both our waistlines do not need it.  The end of the year is so close and I just need to keep holding my head high and see it through.  Things are getting better every single day.

It Is Too Hard

A reminder of our last holiday

Nothing has been done.  Nothing.  I am coming home from work soooo tired.  Last night I cancelled training and literally told my trainer that now I was home I wasn't going out again.  At least I was honest.  I was in bed at 8pm.  

This week I am finding myself falling in to old habits.  I don't know why.  Actually no I do.  I need a holiday.  I was having a week off and asked the boss if I could have another.  He said yes.  So now we are trying to find somewhere to go.  It is so close to Christmas and it will be the school holidays, what are we thinking?  Not only that but I think Mr C will have to go to future MIL as the kennels will probably be booked. 

But I need it.  I need a break from everything and some time out.  We do a lot of weekends away but I need more than 2 nights, I need a whole week.  I need to go away and instead of doing as much as possible I need to go with the flow.  Chill in the sun with a book or my ipod.  

Just booked mystery hotel deal in the City.  Never heard of the hotel and I was hoping it was something else but I am sure it will be great just the same.  Time for bed.