I've started a separate blog to explore the effect of depression on my life. I was posting them here but I want this to be my happy space. The darker space has to be separate, but cannot be denied.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
evolution of a blog
I've started a separate blog to explore the effect of depression on my life. I was posting them here but I want this to be my happy space. The darker space has to be separate, but cannot be denied.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Perspective
I'm loving photographing close up and macro. The difference is remarkable yet it is the same subject.
Everything looks different when you get really close up.
Everything looks different when you get really close up.memories
When I was a child I had blonde curly hair. I was chubby and pretty cute. Mum made all our clothes, and she was really good at it, so we had some pretty nice outfits judging by the old photos. And we smiled a lot in those photos.
I was taught pretty early to be careful. My eyesight was poor so perhaps I fell over too many times, perhaps it was because I was the first born and parents are naturally more protective of girls. I don't remember being taught to be careful.. I just grew up careful, and responsible, and a bit naive. The world around me was just there.. I took everything for granted.
When I was ten my parents went to Kashmir. Mum went over half way through Dad's stint with the UN. I thought Mum was gone 6 months, but have since been told it was just 3.months. While they were away we lived with our grandparents in Whitianga.
Staying there was wonderful I had a lovely big bed that used to belong to my aunt Sonia. My brother was in the boy's room. It had twin beds that my Father and his younger brother used to use. I remember the old school fondly so it can't have been all that bad. I don't remember having friends at school, hardly any at any of the schools I attended. My cousins had a house behind Granny and Grandpa's and they came to stay there on holidays. Four girls in that family and I always felt like an outsider until this past January, at Uncle Ted's funeral.
There was a little old lady living two or three doors down from Granny and Grandpa. Her name was Tiny and she collected shells and had a beautiful garden.I would stop in there on my way home from school some days and marvel at the shells. She was very nice to me was Tiny. Her garden was beautiful and there was a memorial there to her long dead dog. Tiny passed away when I was living in Wellington some years later and her house and garden were replaced by a bank and some shops. That was possibly the biggest loss in my life up to that point, but when you think about it I had taken her for granted in many ways. We were not related and I had not seen her in years.
My Dad was a Phys Ed, and Geography teacher at Fraser High School in Hamilton. Unfortunately I was in no way physically inclined. This must surely have disappointed Dad but he never said anything about it.
I used to go with him to the basket ball games he refereed and keep the scores. Surely I was supervised, but I remember doing it and don't remember anyone checking my math. I felt great doing the scores and sitting with the adults. I must have been 10-12 yrs old at the most. I remember one special trip in a buss with the school team when we went to Rotorua so they could play.
The only sport I played would have been netball. I have a single memory of playing in a team at Deanwell Primary so I would have been been 10.
I don't know when we stopped going but for years and years we used to holiday over Christmas at the camp ground at Raglan. (photo from Google images: www.happycamping.co.nz.
It was fabulous. we had other kids to play with and beaches and trees to play in. The big event every so often was to walk through the camp over the bridge and up into Raglan. Maybe it took 30 mins, but to me it was hugely exciting. The Open Air Campaigners were our entertainment on stage some evenings and I loved the music and the atmosphere of everyone gathering together for fun.
I really liked being able to swim in the ocean, paddle along the shore and lie in the sun. I wasn't scared of the water then. My skin is white and freckly so I burned like buggery. In those days we put oil on our skin to help is 'tan' . My skin went bright red and peeled is great swathes. I had a bad habit of trying to get the biggest piece of skin that I could get to peel off in one piece. My Mum was always the beach bunny.. Mum looked fabulous in her bikinis,was always brown and could swim like a fish. I didn't inherit those traits but I admire them in her. You also have to know mum was the queen at knuckle bones... and I was damn good too.
There are other childhood memories too
Like the catherine wheel at Aunty Ailsa's one November. Her three girls and their awesome bedroom. It had three beds with big boxes for storage at the heads of the beds and they were in a U shape. Thinking back the room was probably not as big as I always thought but it was the BEST bedroom.
Having my hair cut when I was quite young. It was long and I had it cut short for some reason. I can remember there was a fuss over whether it should be cut or not and I can't remember how I felt about it. I think the fuss may have been between my mum and Ailsa';s husband as he was the hairdresser and didn't want to cut it. It's one of those memories that you can never be sure of being correct.
I remember Queenie, my ginea pig at Pine Avenue. My Brother had one too. Queenie was brown ginger and white. My Brothers was darker. their cage had chicken wire. Dad probably made it for us.
One year both Dad and I were ill with hepatitis. We were living in Saxby's Rd and we spent time soaking stamps.. it wasn't so bad being sick when you had something to do with your Daddy.
I think that's enough for now. I can always come back to record more memories, its something I have long wanted to do, even if no one else ever reads them its nice to see them in print. it gives them substance.
I was taught pretty early to be careful. My eyesight was poor so perhaps I fell over too many times, perhaps it was because I was the first born and parents are naturally more protective of girls. I don't remember being taught to be careful.. I just grew up careful, and responsible, and a bit naive. The world around me was just there.. I took everything for granted.
When I was ten my parents went to Kashmir. Mum went over half way through Dad's stint with the UN. I thought Mum was gone 6 months, but have since been told it was just 3.months. While they were away we lived with our grandparents in Whitianga. Staying there was wonderful I had a lovely big bed that used to belong to my aunt Sonia. My brother was in the boy's room. It had twin beds that my Father and his younger brother used to use. I remember the old school fondly so it can't have been all that bad. I don't remember having friends at school, hardly any at any of the schools I attended. My cousins had a house behind Granny and Grandpa's and they came to stay there on holidays. Four girls in that family and I always felt like an outsider until this past January, at Uncle Ted's funeral.
There was a little old lady living two or three doors down from Granny and Grandpa. Her name was Tiny and she collected shells and had a beautiful garden.I would stop in there on my way home from school some days and marvel at the shells. She was very nice to me was Tiny. Her garden was beautiful and there was a memorial there to her long dead dog. Tiny passed away when I was living in Wellington some years later and her house and garden were replaced by a bank and some shops. That was possibly the biggest loss in my life up to that point, but when you think about it I had taken her for granted in many ways. We were not related and I had not seen her in years.
My Dad was a Phys Ed, and Geography teacher at Fraser High School in Hamilton. Unfortunately I was in no way physically inclined. This must surely have disappointed Dad but he never said anything about it.
I used to go with him to the basket ball games he refereed and keep the scores. Surely I was supervised, but I remember doing it and don't remember anyone checking my math. I felt great doing the scores and sitting with the adults. I must have been 10-12 yrs old at the most. I remember one special trip in a buss with the school team when we went to Rotorua so they could play.
The only sport I played would have been netball. I have a single memory of playing in a team at Deanwell Primary so I would have been been 10.
I don't know when we stopped going but for years and years we used to holiday over Christmas at the camp ground at Raglan. (photo from Google images: www.happycamping.co.nz.It was fabulous. we had other kids to play with and beaches and trees to play in. The big event every so often was to walk through the camp over the bridge and up into Raglan. Maybe it took 30 mins, but to me it was hugely exciting. The Open Air Campaigners were our entertainment on stage some evenings and I loved the music and the atmosphere of everyone gathering together for fun.
I really liked being able to swim in the ocean, paddle along the shore and lie in the sun. I wasn't scared of the water then. My skin is white and freckly so I burned like buggery. In those days we put oil on our skin to help is 'tan' . My skin went bright red and peeled is great swathes. I had a bad habit of trying to get the biggest piece of skin that I could get to peel off in one piece. My Mum was always the beach bunny.. Mum looked fabulous in her bikinis,was always brown and could swim like a fish. I didn't inherit those traits but I admire them in her. You also have to know mum was the queen at knuckle bones... and I was damn good too.
There are other childhood memories too
Like the catherine wheel at Aunty Ailsa's one November. Her three girls and their awesome bedroom. It had three beds with big boxes for storage at the heads of the beds and they were in a U shape. Thinking back the room was probably not as big as I always thought but it was the BEST bedroom.
Having my hair cut when I was quite young. It was long and I had it cut short for some reason. I can remember there was a fuss over whether it should be cut or not and I can't remember how I felt about it. I think the fuss may have been between my mum and Ailsa';s husband as he was the hairdresser and didn't want to cut it. It's one of those memories that you can never be sure of being correct.
I remember Queenie, my ginea pig at Pine Avenue. My Brother had one too. Queenie was brown ginger and white. My Brothers was darker. their cage had chicken wire. Dad probably made it for us.
One year both Dad and I were ill with hepatitis. We were living in Saxby's Rd and we spent time soaking stamps.. it wasn't so bad being sick when you had something to do with your Daddy.
I think that's enough for now. I can always come back to record more memories, its something I have long wanted to do, even if no one else ever reads them its nice to see them in print. it gives them substance.
Monday, August 19, 2013
The caffeine dairy
Five cups today went cold before I was able to finish them. Such a waste, but also indicative of just how busy I was at work.
I didn't take any proper breaks. I sat down to eat lunch but then right back into it.
The phone has gone constantly today with people asking questions after the earthquakes last Friday. As soon as the landline would ring another caller would ring and the call would transfer though to the cell phone. It was quite a challenge to strike a professional balance between being friendly and supportive and being distracted by the other call and the interruptions of being frontline in a busy office. I missed a few calls, but thankfully there were lots of people that left me messages.
The big basement clean up was underway today. It was a bit (actually it was a lot) overwhelming starting work at 8 when they had been at it for an hour and wanted questions answered about what I wanted done with this, that and the other thing... Back the bus up folks, I was barely awake!
Eventually I caught up, got some work done and convinced myself to help out with the cleanup, as soon as I cleared a few things off my desk.
It never happened. I was flat out like the proverbial lizard right up to 5pm. Although none the planned work was done, I did reassure a lot of people, answer a bunch of difficult questions around emergency preparedness, tsunami, and what to do in an earthquake, buy lunch for the workers, and make but not drink five cups of coffee. In there somewhere I emptied the stationery onto the floor and reloaded the cabinet when they got swapped over. I now have a stationery cupboard to die for, in my office.
And around 4.30 I finally drank a whole cup of coffee while a customer and I chatted about her preparedness. I got sneaky and offered her a cuppa so I could finally get to drink mine and look after her.
Hey, you do what you have to to get a coffee.
I didn't take any proper breaks. I sat down to eat lunch but then right back into it.
The phone has gone constantly today with people asking questions after the earthquakes last Friday. As soon as the landline would ring another caller would ring and the call would transfer though to the cell phone. It was quite a challenge to strike a professional balance between being friendly and supportive and being distracted by the other call and the interruptions of being frontline in a busy office. I missed a few calls, but thankfully there were lots of people that left me messages.
The big basement clean up was underway today. It was a bit (actually it was a lot) overwhelming starting work at 8 when they had been at it for an hour and wanted questions answered about what I wanted done with this, that and the other thing... Back the bus up folks, I was barely awake!
Eventually I caught up, got some work done and convinced myself to help out with the cleanup, as soon as I cleared a few things off my desk.
It never happened. I was flat out like the proverbial lizard right up to 5pm. Although none the planned work was done, I did reassure a lot of people, answer a bunch of difficult questions around emergency preparedness, tsunami, and what to do in an earthquake, buy lunch for the workers, and make but not drink five cups of coffee. In there somewhere I emptied the stationery onto the floor and reloaded the cabinet when they got swapped over. I now have a stationery cupboard to die for, in my office.
And around 4.30 I finally drank a whole cup of coffee while a customer and I chatted about her preparedness. I got sneaky and offered her a cuppa so I could finally get to drink mine and look after her.
Hey, you do what you have to to get a coffee.
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