Mum Jeans

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers! But especially to my own. 

I love you Mum. xx

Love Birds

The line next to the fridge is made up of Polaroid photos I have taken with my trusty old Joycam over the last few years. They are mostly of people I have befriended since I moved here, though some are of family members and some are of my dearest of dear old friends.

Falling into this latter category is Dr B and her boyfriend D, who recently announced that they have decided to get married. They live in London but as B is from Melbourne they will be coming back for the celebration later in the year. I can't wait!

Mazel tov love birds! 

The Half-Parent

Firstly, a big thank you to the lovely Julia for seeing this book in an op-shop and buying it for me. The fact that Julia is a close friend of Z's mum makes the gesture feel particularly thoughtful.

In my quest to read as much as I can about stepparenting I thought I would give this book a go, though my hopes were not too high. This book was first published in 1975, when I was just a year old. I thought it would be dated and boring and have cobwebs between the paragraphs.

Boy oh boy was I mistaken! Maddox was a journalist before she became a stepmother, so her research is empirical and her writing style is a perfect balance of objective editorial and engaged parental enquiry.

One of the many interesting things I learned (from page 35):

In English and American usage for about four hundred years, from 1440 until at least mid-nineteenth century, the term "mother-in-law" was often used to refer to a stepmother. Although such a meaning is now regarded as incorrect, it made literal sense. A stepmother was a mother "in law", that is, in canon law, by the fact of her marriage to a child's father.

Do I feel like I am half a parent to Z? No. Even though he lives with us for half the week, I still feel like his parent for all seven days, just as I'm sure his mum does.

Recently while we were in an op-shop, PJ found another copy of Maddox's book. I bought it to lend out to people, which I have already started doing, and so I could take this photo.

A half + a half = a whole, right?

I Dig

10 Meters of Extended German Coastline by Nikolaj Recke.

From here.

The Elder

I have never understood posing for photographs. It seems so odd to me to interrupt the natural flow of a moment to face the camera to appear 'happy'. But here I am in this photo doing exactly that.

We had some friends over yesterday for afternoon tea and were joined by three generations of my family: my mum, my grandfather and my niece. Just before they left I asked my mum to take this photo.

I love my grandfather so much. He'll be 91 in July. He is doing OK since my grandmother died in January. His body is aging but my how sharp his mind is.

It's funny, I was happy to have this traditionally posed photo of us taken, but one of the things I struggle with is the traditions that he represents that I am not interested in. It would make him happy if I settled down, got married and had a baby. It would make him feel better if we had a mezuzah on the doorframe of our house. It would make him worry less if I found full-time work. 

Most of me wants him to respect my adult decisions, but there's still a part of me that doesn't want to upset him by rejecting his historical lore.

16 Stitches

For the squeamish amongst you, I had you in mind when I selected this photo. The others I took showed in far greater detail just how far the chainsaw had chewed into PJ's leg.

I got the call yesterday morning. "Don't worry, everything's fine, but will you jump on your bike and meet me at the hospital as soon as you can? I've cut my leg with the chainsaw."

His voice was calm as he spoke. The only part that worried me was that he had said, "Don't worry," and "Everything's fine."

I felt fine as I got dressed and left the house but my legs were all wobbles as I pedalled up the hill. And when I couldn't see the road for my tears I decided to get some help. I flagged down a ute and asked the driver to please take my bike and I to the hospital, which he kindly did.

It was a long day of two hospitals, a doctor's clinic, sixteen sutures and lots of reading in waiting rooms.

Now when I say that I love PJ inside and out you'll know I'm serious, as now I've seen his interior.

Yee-Haw!

Click the blue place marker.

Composting

Happy International Composting Awareness Week!

Although it's a global celebration, it makes sense for us that it's held during autumn because of the trees losing their leaves at this time of year to create their own compost at the bottom of their trunks. Trees are so clever!

We spent this afternoon gathering food for our compost monster who, by the end of the day, was satiated and happy with grass, leaves, weeds and other nutritious snacks she likes to munch on so she can digest it into rich and fertile soil.

Red Pesto

After getting up early, PJ and I decided to go for a walk in the autumn morning.

We walked through the forest,

around the lake,

and up to the farmer's market where we bought, among other things, a bunch of Red Rubin Basil.

This is Ian, the farmer who grew it.
When we got home I ground up the basil and added toasted pine nuts, garlic, olive oil, parmesan and river salt.

We ate it on rye bread for lunch with some other garden goodies.

Then I stuck the basil stems in water because, gosh, they're just so pretty.

Running

There was a cross country running race for a few of the local schools today. I went to cheer on my beautiful niece, Indigo. Here she is, post-run holding the sign I made for her.

It was a great afternoon and I enjoyed cheering on all the kids, even those unknown to me. Though while I was watching, it occurred to me how dislocated we are from our survival. Once, we ran to save our lives – from predators and fire, towards prey and safer grounds.

Then, later this afternoon I sat in the main room of the town hall, while people brought in their treasured possessions for the Not Left Behind exhibition. I cried quietly while I read people's accounts of the fires and looked at all their home-warming sentimentals, including my own.

How lucky we are that we only need to run for recreation.