Sunday

It was a quiet but yummy day at château Festival.  The day started with Jojo and I going to Church.  We are currently going to a Baptist Church...a new experience for me and probably slightly more conservative than I would like, but Jojo is really enjoying it a lot, so I think it is worth pursuing, if only just for her.

When I came home the stresses and late nights of the last week caught up with me and I crashed and went to bed.  Even Bretsky could see that I was rocking on my feet.  Thankfully he was happy to do a few things with Jojo, one of which was to organise dinner, and cater to my whim of a nice chunk of lamb.  More on that later.

Whilst I was asleep I had a strange dream.  I don't know if this was a throwback to Audrey's book, but I dreamt that I could see the ghost of a small girl running around.  I woke up not knowing whether it was Eliza or some random other small child, so I was slightly freaked.  Nothing bad happened in the dream, it's just that I prefer to think of Eliza safely ensconced in heaven, so I think it is one of those dreams I will consciously decide not to think about.

Dinner tonight was stunning.  Bretsky often cooks on the weekend as he doesn't really have time during the week, he enjoys it, and it gives me a break.  Tonight's menu came from this...

Firstly we had Cordero con garbanzos y salsa de hierbabuena (don't ask me to actually say that).  It translates to a boned, butterflied leg of lamb marinated in garlic, lemon, red wine vinegar, fresh thyme, red onion, sweet paprika and olive oil, and cooked on the barbecue.  Add to it a chickpea purée that contains olive oil, onion, garlic, cumin seeds and saffron, and a hot home made mint sauce (my contribution).  But wait, there's more.  Bretsky also made his own GF flatbreads and cooked them on the barbecue too.  Add corn on the cob at the request of Jojo, and voilà!

Mmmmmmmmmmm.  It was soooo good.....just what I had felt like.

8 rowdy girls...

gathered in my lounge room this afternoon for their book group.  The book this time was...

The 'Big Elephant Book Club' consists of nine gorgeous 11 & 12 year old girls (one was missing today), who meet at my home every six weeks or so, to discuss the latest book they have chosen, have afternoon tea and generally muck around.  As a rule I try to encourage the girls to decide themselves which book they will read next, but the reality is that they usually have so many suggestions between them that they can't settle to a decision.  This time I stepped in and promoted 'The night they stormed Eureka', partly because I really admire Jackie French and the way she weaves history into fiction/fiction into history, and partly because we have a personal connection to the goings on that happened at the Eureka stockade.

Firstly the book.  One girl didn't like it to the point that she refused to finish the book.  One girl loved it all except for the time travelling part, and the rest were of mixed opinion.  Generally most of them weren't thrilled with the time travel concept.  I don't think it was a problem with the writing as such, more maybe that the girls would have preferred that there was continuity of time.  They did enjoy reading about an episode of Australian history in a way that was understandable to them and without a lot of political jargon.  We ended up having good discussions not just about the rise of the union movement, but also about what life might have been like on the gold fields in the 1800's, and would they have like to go back in time to visit it? Turns out they wouldn't...that whole distrust of the time travel thing....I myself would like to have visited Australia when it was still part of Gondwanaland.

As to our connection with the Eureka Stockade.  My husband, Bretsky, is descended from good convict stock, (which if you are Australian is virtually aristocracy)!  Only in Oz!  His great great great great grandmother was Anastasia Withers, one the the three women who sewed the original Eureka Stockade flag. Truly!!  He is currently winning the 16 year long game of who knows/has met/is related to, the most famous people.  Anyhow, this flag is still seen on union sites all around Australia, and we think it's pretty cool to have rebellious blood in the family.

As you can see, parts of the original flag are missing.  This is because the Museum in Victoria looking after the flag used to snip bits off to sell!  Then they realised that there was a problem with sustainability and ceased the practice.  And wasn't Anastasia a fine figure of a woman?

The book club meeting ended with a rigorous discussion of what the girls wanted to do for a Christmas party, and I was presented with a little gift from one of the girls.  A little string of elephants to hang from our verandah as a welcoming sign to big elephant book club participants when they arrive.  I shall leave you with this cheery image.......

I love etsy, but I love this more

Being a 'crafter' myself, I have a great appreciation for the very many clever, artistic and downright fabulous things you can find on etsy.  There is however stuff you come across where you think "what the?"  This is where regretsy comes into it's own.  Real etsy items are shifted onto this site so that we can all benefit from seeing the many unique offerings these (ahem) talented artists have created.  The pictures are fantastic, and the new added commentary by Helen Killer cracks me up.  Take this for example... (you can click on the image to enlarge it)

There's not really anything much I can add to that.

Audrey is crossed off the Christmas list

So, I finished reading Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffeneger and did not like it one iota.  I was going to write a book review explaining the reasons for my distaste, and then discovered that Badger wrote this, which I agree with completely.  So.  That about does it for that.  For the record, I did like The Time Traveler's Wife, and thought that the concept of HFS was good, so had been looking forward to it.  Don't know that I will bother with any of her future work.

Moving on to last night's dream.  I dream a lot, in colour, often with sounds and smells and sometimes physical experiences.  This is great when the dream has a fun, loving theme.  It's not so good when the anxiety dreams hit, and I seem to be having quite a run of them.

In last night's I was in some sort of factory, a dingy dark one, that was also part university.  A very good older friend of mine, B, was there too, and periodically so was Jojo.  I was working near an office in which some sort of experiment was being done, when all of a sudden someone alerted us to the fact that there was a gas leak that might explode and we needed to vacate the building ASAP.  At this point I had Jojo with me, and my main concern was keeping her safe.  As we were hustling out off the building and into the car park I heard an explosion, and small shards of glass started raining down on us.  I pulled Jojo to me and tried to protect her face, head and body as much as possible with my own body.  She was ok, but I could feel dozens of stinging cuts as the glass hit me.  Nothing too severe or fatal, but certainly it felt unpleasant, and the whole episode had a threatening vibe.

After a while (at this point Jojo had disappeared) we decided it was safe to go into the factory/university to investigate.  I didn't have any shoes, and shattered glass was everywhere, so I stole two left shoes to walk around in. I know.  Anyway, snooping around B's office I came across scraps of paper that seemed to suggest that he was having an affair.  I was completely shocked, and felt quite betrayed on behalf of his wife. In real life, B and his wife, (now dec) were completely devoted to each other.

The whole dream was about trying to protect my (inner?) child, and with coming to terms with the fact that sometimes things are not what they seem.  It's no wonder that I sometimes wake up exhausted!  Still, this dream was not as bad as the one a few nights ago when I dreamt that Tony Abbott was my father...gack!

Moving back to books, a much safer and my all round favourite topic.  I have been given this to read, but was warned I would probably need to keep my trusty dictionary next to me during the process.

It's the first Banville I have attempted, and when I return the book I am supposed to tell the wonderful K who lent it to me what my favourite new word is.  So, I have added a new list to the side of my page in order that you may expand your vocabulary right along with me.  Capeesh? (Part of speech: interjection. Definition: do you understand? From the Italian)...dictionary.reference.com.  ha ha ha

How to help your 12 year old get to sleep

Jojo goes through cycles of not being able to sleep.  Mostly this is because her brain is simply over-active...she thinks up ideas of things to make, she re-hashes things that have happened in the playground, and sometimes she just lies there thinking about Eliza and feeling lonely.  We have found the perfect antidote!  Just go to Vonerable's house for dinner and a play with her four gorgeous kids.  Jojo just loves going there.  All four children are interesting and energetic and affectionate and jump all over her.

When we got home and Jojo was getting ready for bed she told me that Sparkly had said to her "we are family aren't we?', to which Jojo said she relied yes.  Sparkly then said "then we must be cousins!".  Jojo was immensely  pleased with this.  Like me, Jojo thoroughly believes that your family is not necessarily the blood clan you are born into......unlike the saying, you can choose your family.  Jojo has gone to bed feeling loved, accepted, and trampolined off her feet.  Tonight she fell asleep quickly.

 I spoke to Bretsky on the phone tonight.  He was exhausted from Granddad's funeral today.  It was a long church service, followed by a long burial service, followed by much shaking of distant relatives' hands.  He was also a pall bearer - an honor he was glad to accept, but that it reminded him only too clearly of being a pall bearer for his mother and our daughter also.  We have both found that it is very difficult to keep grief for the loss of any particular person in any sort of segmented compartment.  Grieving for one person spills into grieving for another spills into grieving for another, and before you know it you are just sad sad sad.  When I spoke to him tonight, that was how he was feeling, and then Brisbane is just too far away.

I am about to go and climb into bed with this, having visited my favorite bookshop today.  I actually bought it as a present for my older sister, but if I'm quick I can read it before I wrap it...that's allowed in the rules of present giving isn't it?  I wouldn't want to give a boring book to my beloved sister would I?  No, I think that it's best that I check it too.  Night night.

Watching Jane Austen

I'm sitting in the lounge room in MY chair with my feet up on the big red exercise ball that never gets used for exercise and only ever for relaxation.  Jane Austen Regrets is on the telly and I am so wishing that I could have lived in her time....only if I was rich though.  Poverty would not have been fun in the 1800s.

Jojo and I have been busy with various little activities lately, much like genteel ladies.  Chief among our accomplishments were the respective appliquéing of a block each for a memory/friendship quilt that my friend V is making for her daughter M's twelfth birthday.  Jojo decided to applique the girl guides symbol as she attends guides with M.

Mine is an elephant with 'Big Elephant Book Club' lettered underneath.  I run a book group for nine, 11 and 12 year old girls, and M is part of this group.  A very delightful group of girls, who meet at my house every six weeks or so to discuss the latest book they have read, have afternoon tea, and generally muck around like slightly geeky girls do.

Not too shabby an effort huh?

Bretsky is packing so that he can fly out to Brisbane early tomorrow morning for Granddad's funeral on Tuesday.  He will get to spend some time with his dad and brother, and many of Granddad's thousands of relatives.  We received a request from one of Bretsky's cousins to try and find any family photo's we had that included Granddad, so that they could be used at the funeral.  I took a break writing this to help Bretsky trawl through the packets of hard copy photos we have (the ones that predate the acquisition of a digital camera and files on the computer).

I found myself taking a deep breath before opening each packet.  Would I see photo of Eliza or not? The first few packets I opened didn't have any.  There were plenty of pictures of Jojo, such complete enjoyment to look at how she has grown, what a little pudding elf she used to be.  Then I started to get impatient to see some of Eliza.  The next packet I opened there she was.....such a sweet little face....giggling with her head thrown back, Jojo in the background enjoying her little sister.  Then I started to cry.  I would never, ever choose a life that didn't include Eliza, but the constant longing, and ache in my stomach for the sheer wanting of her brings me undone time and time again.  I stare at those pictures and I can still hear her voice in my head, feel her arms around my neck.  Gorgeous gorgeous girl.

Take a deep breath, finish my coffee, go and put away the dishes.

Grandad

We got one of those really awful phone calls first thing this morning.  Brett's 95 year old Granddad had passed away in his sleep just a little while earlier.  Its not a big shock, as he was becomingly increasingly frail and had had several bouts of illness in the last three months, but it is still very sad.  He was Brett's last surviving grandparent, and a treasured link to his mum, who died about 5 years ago.

I took the call from Brett's dad just after Brett had left for work.  Thankfully he hadn't gotten very far, and I asked him to turn around and come home...I don't think anyone should be told about a member of their family dying over the phone.  After I told Brett, he walked Josa to school (she was ok, a little sad for Brett, but she hardly knew Granddad as he lived on the other side of Australia), and I made a pot of coffee for us.  We sat in the lounge room with our coffee, and didn't really even talk much, but just stared out the window at the Chinese Tallow and mused over life and death.  

Granddad was a very strong Christian, and I have no doubt at all that he is now with God.  He will be reunited with his adored wife, his daughter, and (this is the bit that gets me) our beloved little girl, Eliza.  It is weird, but it makes me happy and sad and jealous.  Happy that Granddad is in heaven, sad that all of those people are not here with us, and quite frankly a little jealous that he gets to see Eliza, and I still have to wait goodness only knows how many years until I see her again myself.

Don't get me wrong.  I have no death wish, and I couldn't bare to leave our other daughter Josa here without me, but I am aware that to some extent I spend my life just waiting to see Eliza, and that longing and waiting just gets so hard, that I am jealous of people for whom the waiting is over.  Does that make sense?

I meant to devote this entry to Granddad.  He was a wonderful person; loving, responsible, honest, faithful, a wonderful grandparent.  He took exquisite care of his wife after she had a major stroke, and was always utterly delighted to see his family.  He was a blessing to the family, and we will miss him.

Full of carrot cake and laughter

I came home on Sunday from spending the weekend away with my buddies from 'Quilting Companions', a sedate group name for a bunch of talented, generous and mischievous women.  We meet every Thursday for a day of sewing, food and yakking, but also try to get away together two or three times a year.  This time it was to stay at a nun's retreat in Shoalwater, in a townhouse approximately 50m from the beach.  Warm weather + cool breeze + pelicans soaring overhead + friends + glass of wine = aaaaahh!

I spent my stitching time working on an appliqué block of an elephant on cream homespun....a block that will be included in the friendship quilt that my dear friend V is making for her daughter's 12th birthday.  It was due back to her about a week ago, so this was a good opportunity for me to 'pull my finger out' and finish it.  Will scan it in for you when complete.

I love these women a lot. They are a bunch of sister/aunties to me.  When you need tea and sympathy they are the people to go to.  Thanks girls.

Festival of me

A bit of a self-centered way to start off isn't it?  I think I am allowed to be self concerned today.  I just picked up my results from yesterday's first ever mammogram, and subsequent ultra-sound results.  Apart from a benign lesion in my left breast I am clear and good.  Relief.  I think I had just about talked myself into having breast cancer, courtesy of aching breast/armpit sagas.

Shall I tell you what it like to have a mammogram?  Firstly, don't believe all that scary shit that people tell you.  O.k., sure, having a mammogram does not top my list of fun things to do with my boobs, but it truly was not as bad as I thought it would be.

What happens is this: you strip to the waist, a nice lady lifts your boob (yes, mine require lifting) onto a metallish sort of plate, and then a perspex sort of  plate comes down to squish your breast out flat.  You look down and think, holy crap that's big.  Then the nice lady cheerfully says: "just a mo, I need to get the other set of plates".  The pressure comes off, you unstick your sweaty boob from the metallish plate, and stand around half naked whilst she fetches the BIGGER set of plates from the cupboard.   Repeat lifting and squishing procedure, and despair quietly at how much your boobs have grown since you were a pert twenty year old.

Painwise?  Really not so bad.  Uncomfortable, but you only have to bear the pressure for a few seconds, and for me the mind relief from having finally had my breasts examined properly was very totally worth it.

Also on the menu today:  I am home from my usual Friday position of working in a school library because I have had a badly upset stomach for four days now!  I am tired, my stomach is aching, the nausea is really starting to piss me off, and I didn't know what else to do except sit down and write out a complaint about it.  I guess I could go to the doctor, but that would mean making an appointment and leaving the house, both of which are too difficult to contemplate doing.  So here I am.

Also on the menu: A VERY BIG HAPPY 4th BIRTHDAY to SUPERBOY  (little killer) - one of my very most favourite people in the world.  Dear Superboy, I love your sense of humour, your giggle, and the way that your sheer awesomeness makes your mum's eyes light up every time she mentions you.  We in the festival household love you, and hope you have a magical day.xxxx

Lastly on the menu: packing to go away for the weekend with my sewing buddies.  I love these women a lot, and I always have a fantastically refreshing time when I am with them.  I just wish I had a bit more confidence in the inner-workings of my intestines, coz all I feel like doing at the moment is curling up on the couch with Audrey.  I love Audrey.  Maybe I'll go do that now, just for a little while.