jmgoyder

wings and things

Faux pas (how do you say that in the plural?)

Sometimes I say things and the words come out in a way I hadn’t intented:

  • Like the time a very sophisticated woman came to visit and when she called out “You hoo” from the back door I was on the loo and I yelled out “Just a minute – I was just having a sit” meaning that I was reading a magazine. Unfortunately, she misheard “sit”.
  • Like the time I rang for an appointment with my chiropractor brother and said to the new receptionist, “I’m his brother” (I am a female).
  • Like the numerous times I have called Anthony “Mother” and my mother “Ants” (and I do the same thing with Ming and Anthony all the time!)
  • Like the time I recorded a telephone message on my work phone that ended with me saying “Seeya!” and was reprimanded for sounding unprofessional (I used to get that a lot).

Anyway sometimes the same thing happens with blogging. For example when I first started this blog and I was pressing this button and that button and any button, trying to figure it all out, I accidentally reblogged someone and, when I realized, I immediately trashed it. I have no idea who this was, but now that I am a more seasoned blogger I realize how hurtful and mysterious it would be to be reblogged and trashed in the space of a few minutes!

Then yesterday, when I reblogged a post and then wrote another post to explain why I felt BB’s post and the children’s cause were important, I said a few things about reblogging which may have been misinterpreted because I didn’t express them very well, so I will just add here that (a) I love being reblogged – don’t mind it a bit and find it flattering; (b) I don’t mind reading reblogs at all but often don’t have time; (c) I don’t particularly like to reblog others’ words because I like to write my own.

So I do hope I haven’t made a blogging faux pas as bad as the reblogging+trashing incident. And if you happen to be the person I unwittingly did this to, I apologize and promise to be your brother for life!

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A hesitant activist

Earlier today I reblogged a post written by Lady Barefoot Baroness who many may be familiar with. She and her friend have combined their talents, and a shared passion for child safety, to create a new blog, the details of which will be announced soon.  Here is the link to more information:

http://cobbies69.wordpress.com/2012/07/25/will-you-join-us/

Now, as I’ve said to Baroness, I don’t like reblogging because I often don’t read reblogs due to time constraints and I don’t think I am alone here. For newcomers to blogging, reblogging is when you read a post on someone else’s blog and you want to share it on your own blog, so you click ‘reblog’ which is what I did today. It is worth keeping in mind, however, that some bloggers do not want to be reblogged so it is important to ask their permission first. (I hope that is clearer than mud!)

My own passion for this cause is difficult for me to describe because the thought of any child being hurt appals and disturbs me, and I have a longstanding aversion to news items about child abductions and disappearances because, as I am a parent, I cannot imagine a worse horror.

Reblogging and linking my own readers into this cause has scared the hell out of me because I am a bit of a wimp in this way and certainly am no activist. However, if my reblog of Baroness’ most recent post and the link above can possible help find a lost child then it’s worthwhile – absolutely.

I will not reblog in the future; instead I will figure out how to put the message out there on my own blog. Please go to both of the aforementioned blogs to get more information and many thanks!

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Flower power

Anthony was/is crazy about flowers and we have dozens of rose trees and camellia trees and all sorts of other flowering things in the garden. The trouble is (a) he isn’t home anymore and he’s the one who tended to all of these gardening shenanigans; and (b) I loathe gardening.

Don’t get me wrong – I love gardens and flowers and trees and all of that, but I just wish they didn’t need so much help. The camellias are my favourites because they just thrive anyway, but the roses – oh the roses!

My beautiful friend, CB, has come over several times in order to teach me/help me to prune the roses and we have made a bit of headway but only because she does most of the work while I drink my coffee or struggle to find the stupid secater/scissor things (see, I can’t even spell the secatooooor word!) Nevertheless, she is very patient with my procrastinating ways.

Since I now really want to grow sunflowers, I realize that I must first prove to CB that I can prune those bloody roses and prove to her that I am a newly-fledged gardener. So tomorrow, or maybe the day after tomorrow, I am going to do it – yes! I have to do this before she comes over and sees that I haven’t done it.

I plan to invite her over on Friday afternoon to see the pruned roses and to get sunflower advice because she knows all about this gardening thing. That is one of the many reasons I adore her.

Here are a few pictures of the camellias that do not need anything except the occasional glance of appreciation!

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Moments of pure joy

  • When you ring the electricity people to pay the phenomenal bill and the guy says you are in credit by over $700
  • When you take one of the pillows that your blogging friend from Turkey has given you, and you put it behind your husband’s back in the nursing lodge, and he sighs with pleasure
  • When your oldest niece, who is getting married soon at a castle in Scotland, emails you asking if you would write something for the wedding because she knows you can’t come over
  • When you finish all the blasted paperworky, redtapey, billy, taxy crap
  • When your friend comes over with a fold-up massage table and says she is going to give you a massage and you say you would rather be dead, and she doesn’t mind and gives your son the massage instead
  • When the damaged wing mirror on your car that was going to cost over $1,000 is fixed in 15 minutes by your friend
  • When one of the nurses looking after your husband says she read the thank you note you wrote to the staff, and loved it
  • When someone  you haven’t seen for decades finds you on facebook
  • When you finally finish the folding but still can’t find the iron
  • When, in a cupboard, you discover the gorgeous Italian boots your husband bought you years ago in a fit of extravagance, and you put them on your feet for the first time
  • When your son is angry that you have run out of cereal again and you calmly show him the 10 packets of weetbix in the pantry
  • When you realize that you don’t ever want to find the iron anyway
  • When one of your dogs snuggles happily into your armpit
  • When your son takes over all of the outside jobs but doesn’t tell you off for being behind with the inside jobs
  • When you find a new makeup to obliterate the circles under your eyes
  • When you laugh more times than you cry
  • When you remember something beautiful
  • When you think about planting sunflowers
  • When you see comments from bloggers who you may never meet but with whom you are now connected
  • When you find the gifts you got weeks ago but forgot to give your little, newly christened nephew and niece
  • When you look at the sunset
  • When you find out that the house isn’t riddled with white ants after all
  • When you rediscover prayer in a feather – or two

And all of that joy happened in just 24 hours!

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Love story 81 – When a child is born

Yes, I know I haven’t filled in the details of the wedding and all that but I will eventually!

Exactly 9 months after Anthony and I got married, Ming was born. It was a dreadfully painful 500million-hour labour, but finally at 1am on January 5th, 1995, he emerged.

It was a pretty weird moment because all of the nurses and the doctor had rushed away from me into the next door room to attend to a woman who punctuated every second of her child’s birth with screams that sounded like she was being tortured whereas I did most of the suffering in silence.

Anthony wanted a son so much, so much, so much and, even though I know he would have loved a daughter just as much, he just wanted Ming and so did I, and I thought I knew Ming would be a boy because of my dreamchild thoughts before we were married. It was always a boy.

As Ming emerged, Anthony quickly called the nurses and doctor back and our scrawny little alien was delivered without any further drama except for Anthony exclaiming with undisguised joy: ‘It’s a boy!’ I remember feeling very relieved because I didn’t want to go through that again!

Then, just after the following picture was taken, Anthony said he was exhausted and had to go home to bed. You gotta laugh!

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If you have been following this blog ….

If you have been following this blog you will already know that my husband, Anthony, is in a nursing home now due to advanced Parkinson’s disease and prostate cancer. He is 76. He is the best person I have ever met. He is my hero.

If you have been following this blog you will also know that our son, Ming, developed a severe scoliosis and had his spine fused surgically this year. He is 18. He is the best person I have ever met. He is my hero.

Ming doesn’t have his car licence yet due to the surgical interruption so he still needs me to drive him to music school etc.

Anthony takes an incredibly long time to answer that stupid phone.

I have two recurring nightmares: the first is of Anthony reneging on getting married; and the second is that he and Ming are in the ocean and I can only save one of them. Both nightmares never reach a resolution because I always wake up too soon.

If you have been following this blog you will know that I am very happy and very sad.

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Anti-bullying tactics

1. Identify the bully [this is Godfrey, the godfather of ganderdom].

2. Contemplate what to do with the bully situation [Bubble and Baby Turkey contemplating Godfrey].

3. Plan out a strategy.

4. Walk away from the bully.

5. Attack the bully if need be [Baby Turkey attacking Godfrey, with Bubble supervising so that Godfrey doesn’t get hurt, but is taught a lesson].

6. Turn the other cheek [Woodroffe and Diamond demonstrating this].

7. Ignore the bully and leave him next to the rubbish bins for at least one hour!

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Love story 80 – The day before the wedding

I got my nails done (I got one false nail glued to my bitten down ring finger);

I got my hair done (I brushed it);

I had a party (I chose to stay by myself in my ma’s new house);

I prepared my outfit (I put my blue silk suit onto a bed so it wouldn’t get creased and wished I could just wear jeans);

I slept fitfully because I had a recurring nightmare (that Anthony would evaporate);

I said thank you to the air.

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Love story 79 – The engagement ring

Oh what a lovely sunny day it was. We parked in Anthony’s favourite carpark in Perth and walked down to the antique jewellery shop where he had picked out an antique ring for me. We’d been there before of course and I had said which ring I liked, being very careful to choose something above $500 but below $5,000 – ha!

So he forked out a big wad of cash, put the ring in his pocket and we walked (well I kind of skipped) to the closest restaurant, ordered a drink and a meal and then he got the ring out of his pocket and took it out of its box and put it on my finger.

Just as our meals arrived, he mentioned that his brother thought it might be a good idea to get a pre-nuptual agreement so I very calmly took the ring off, gave it back to him, stood up, abandoning my meal, and walked back to the car.

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