Cheating a bit today

Usually I'm writing to you about something that has grabbed my attention during the day...or the week...

But because I've been feeling crook for over three weeks now, I just haven't been in a writing mood. I've read a fat novel, Tully, by Paullina Simons, during those hours when my brain just wasn't up to thinking about work.

I had an email from Facebook reminding me that my A Cuppa With Kerry 'likers' will be missing me...I wonder if that is true...

Anyway, to fill the gap until I'm ready to write again, I thought I'd share a little something I wrote when I was at a Writers' Group meeting a couple of years ago. It still rings true for me in many ways, and even though my numbers this year won't be a nine, I'm still enjoying a lucky year. 

I have full-time work, a lovely little house to live in for now, visits from both of my precious children (one starting next Sunday, so I'm very excited), other family not too far away, and a very thoughtful and loving partner in my life. Today, I have flowers! Today I had a lovely walk on the beach, made my very favourite Red Lentil and Root Vegetable soup and spent a couple of hours at work. 

Life is often what you make it...I've been saying over and over, I'm so happy, but I feel so awful...but I'm so happy :) So my lovely readers, here's a snip with some thoughts I had in the past. Hope you'll enjoy them too.

A Little Hard to Bear

I was born on the twenty-seventh. 

Two plus seven makes nine. 

Nine is my lucky number so my birthday is lucky too. 

This year I turned fifty-four. 

Five plus four makes nine. 

So this is my lucky year. 

I might not have another one like this until I’m sixty-three or seventy-two or eighty-one or ninety. 
But the thing is that at this age, it’s a little hard to bear that I don’t yet have life all worked out.

I mean, I’ve done all this mid-life menopausal soul-searching.

I've lost myself and found myself and even learned to like…no, love myself. 

But still I feel like a child. 

I’m sure I ought to feel ‘grown up’ by now. 

Isn’t it true that by fifty-four you are ‘mature-age’? 

I was a mature-age student at forty-seven!! 

I felt so sage, sharing my wisdom with the just-out-of-high-schoolers. 

Ha!

I brought life experience to the table. 

I felt sort of superior in a sense. 

But really, I shared only snips of knowledge. 

My opinions, formed over a longer time perhaps, but of no greater value really than anyone else’s. 

No less valuable, and no more. 

Really. 

It’s a little hard to bear that at fifty-four you can talk and talk and talk and listen to others talking and talking and nothing seems to be getting any better. 

The world declines in health minute by minute. 

Television spews forth talk of wars, hatred, violence, destruction. 

Not on four channels like in the good old days; now there are forty-four or a hundred and forty-four or more! 

It’s a little hard to bear clicking through all those channels looking for something to watch. 

And so to the daily entertainment; grim visages of rotting corpses, larger than life, plastered like wall-paper across the lounge. 

X Factor, The Voice, Australia’s Got Talent, Idol; people singing, people screaming, shouting, applauding the people singing; mania.

They did that for the Beatles; then, I was only two thirds of nine. 

But now it is bigger, grander, and madder on screens that eclipse the view from the window, and steal sleep with their insistent presence.  

Close the curtains to keep the sun off the screen so we can all enjoy a make believe nightmare, no longer working on a tan but upping our chances of becoming Vitamin D deficient. 

Slip, slop, slap. 

Click, goes the computer mouse, click, click click…type in Vitamin D deficiency; symptoms…oh look in the side bar – Nicole Kidman loses 5kg of ugly belly fat – really? 

Now what was I doing? 

Ah, that’s right, checking the Lotto numbers…this is my lucky week. 

The ticket is not a winner. 

Suddenly it dawns on me; I’m going to have to get out there and make my own luck. 

It’s a little hard to bear…knowing it’s all up to me. 

It's all up to us people. We have to make our own luck. Hope you're having a lucky day, a lucky week, a lucky month or a lucky life. 

Luck and love to you all. Kerry

Questions and ponderings

How do we expect our young people to be global thinkers and global citizens and yet not expect them to become overwhelmed by the enormity of the problems our world presents to them? We have so much information available to us now at the touch of a button, about everything under the sun...yet we have so few answers to the big questions that kids ask.

How do we explain to kids that it's not okay to cheat and lie and yet they see every day that the people in the places high up...the politicians, the corporations, the rich...seem to have gotten to those high places by doing just that. 

How can we expect kids to take it all seriously? To want to do well. To want to work hard...when they can see that so much is being done just to make life tougher for them? And that growing up in a particular place almost certainly determines that they will remain at the bottom of the heap (apart from a celebrated few that 'make it' regardless). How can we expect kids not to be angry? Or frustrated...with the lack of options...the lack of a future worth looking to?

How can we expect kids to respect other people's belongings and property if we show them so little respect...how can we expect kids to stay alive on no income...or on low, low income and paying rent...without stealing to make ends meet? How can we expect a starving, homeless young person not to do something to feed themselves. If we don't have a job for them, what other options do they have?

How are you going to feel safe with your money and your worldly goods if there are so many more people living on the edge? How can we expect society to be safe and secure if some people have so much and some so little. Somehow those with much feel better and more worthy than those with nothing. It's a false sense of security I suggest. Sooner or later it all has to come crashing down. 

I'm not saying that everyone should be poor. I'm saying that no-one should be poor. World-wide we have resources enough for everyone. I can't answer questions about population growth and resource depletion, but I do know that having most of the resources in the hands of the few is not going to have a good outcome in the long term. I'm saying that maybe we need a few more people to see what's happening and to stand up and say 'Enough!'

We have two income families who are saving for lovely holidays and new cars...and zero income families struggling to feed themselves. I'm asking the two income families who are working just for the extras...the finer things in life...to think about how they impact on the rest of the community. I know you work hard and you deserve lovely things...but what is the cost to others? I know a lot of two income families are just making ends meet and I don't mean to judge anyone, but simply to ask...would you give up your job that is just for the luxuries of life...so that someone who has no job might have it? Or would you criticize the one who has no job while you live your stylish and comfortable life, well-regarded for having so much.

I really think these are questions we need to start asking ourselves. If you have young people in your neighbourhood that can't get a job to get a start in life, yet you have two cars and two houses and go overseas for holidays every year...can you see that perhaps the young person isn't the problem here. I wonder if we need to start thinking more about how our actions affect our communities and especially our young people. Perhaps we could expect more from them if they knew there were going to be jobs and that they'd have to be respectful and respectable to get them. Right now, many of them are so sure they won't get employment that there is no motivation to care about what others think about them.

Older working people may have such a huge advantage in applying for jobs as they usually have experience, wider social networks, and a 'good' work ethic. They were raised in the era of working to get...a house, a car, anything you wanted if you worked hard enough. Young people are often socially awkward, have less social capital and have less motivation as they have no real faith in the future. It's tough and it seems that it's just going to get tougher. I wonder what might be possible if we all pulled back just a little bit on the good life...could we create a better world for our kids? I wonder if they would feel more like they could do okay in life if we were happier with less and showed them that they could be too. 

I haven't got answers...just questions and ponderings. I'm sure there will be plenty out there that will disagree with me. Let me know what you think...maybe you have some answers.

A Bit of a Whinge

I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself today...I know we all have days like that so I'm going to share it with you and you'll know that I understand next time you're feeling miserable! It's part of the human condition, isn't it...to have days where you feel less than good. I wonder what the purpose is though. Why do we have days when we feel off and uncomfortable, and what are we supposed to learn from them? I'm a bit of a learn-a-holic. In every situation in my life, I find there is something for me to learn. So here I am feeling somewhat head-achy and a bit nauseous and full of cold/flu capsules and wishing that it was all just over and I could get back to feeling normal and get on with all the things I have to do. I am feeling frustrated because I don't feel like tackling the things that must be done. I'm lucky that I love to write so this is not so bad. I'm in a warm house and sitting on a comfy old office chair (thanks Mum!) and if I lean a little to the left I can see the bay through the sliding glass doors that lead to my wee verandah out the back. 

It's a grey and drizzly day so it matches how I feel. Although I do not feel sad or depressed or anything like it. Just frustrated really with my lethargy. I have a hot cup of tea. I am blessed. I am warm and cosy and comfortable and well-fed (in fact, over-fed) and have a clean and comfortable bed to retire to if it all gets too much. When I have days like these...when I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself and wishing I felt better, I can't help but think about people who are really sick. If I feel this rotten with a cold that I know will pass within a couple of weeks, if not sooner, then what must it feel like to have a chronic disease or disorder that has no end to it? I have so much admiration for people that have long-term ailments when they seem to just get on with life. They don't let pain or discomfort stop them. Maybe I'm just a terrible sook.

Another thing I think about is people living on the streets, or people in refugee camps, or people living in poverty. I can't imagine how dreadful it must be to be sick and have no access to a chemist or a shop for tablets and lozenges. I can't imagine how awful to have a nasty headache and be surrounded by the noise of other people and animals and the stench of crowded, unsanitary living conditions. I can't imagine how awful it must be to have to lay in the dirt and wait for things to get better or to die. I can't imagine having to walk miles to get wood for a cooking fire, or to keep warm by whilst feeling ill. I can't imagine having to carry water from a well or a river whilst feeling tired and weak and overwhelmed. The human spirit is an amazing thing and people every day are overcoming their physical and mental problems to push on and just keep going. I am embarrassed by my lack of tenacity when I compare my comfort to the hardships faced by others...by what they do every day because there is no other way for them if they want to live. I am not going to take it for granted, that I can be unwell in such comfortable circumstances. 

In our country we have access to doctors and surgeons who can help us. We may have to wait a little while or travel a little distance but we have so many options for transport. We know there will be clean bandages and pain-killers for us if we need them. What must it be like to live where these things are not there? I cannot imagine. I am so very lucky to have been placed where I am through the lottery of birth. I could have been born in any of a million different places but I am here. I wonder at that lottery sometimes. I wonder how it is that some are unlucky enough to be born into poverty or other conditions of hardship. Of course, I understand the mechanics of it all, but I wonder about the fairness of life. I wonder how it is that some of us enjoy such incredible privilege and others nothing but scorn. I wish I had the answers to these questions...and  a way to bring a gentle life to each and every human being. Surely a gentle life is a good life. Gentle on each person, gentle on our planet. I wonder if our collective consciousness could some day find a way to slow down and stablise our population so that there is enough for everyone. I wonder what it would look like now to spread the world's population out across the globe so that there was a place for everyone to grow enough food for themselves...and for that to be enough. 

I wonder how much longer we can keep going on the track we're on, as a planet, as a species. How much more damage can we do before even those up 'til now blind...have to see that we've taken it all for granted for too long? Don't we all deserve a gentle life? A kind life? While we're all busy striving to put food on our tables and clothes on our backs - despite our wardrobes already burgeoning with last year's fashions - are we missing out on life? On gentleness towards ourselves and each other? 

Oh, and the learning...why is this happening? Or at the very least, what am I to learn from it? Probably first and foremost is that good health is the greatest thing I can have. I am reflecting on what I might be doing in my day to day living that compromises optimum health. I have an opportunity to slow down and take time to think a few things over and perhaps re-order some priorities. And of course, to count my blessings because they are many.

I wish you love and a gentle spirit towards yourself and those around you. I wish you eyes to see opportunity to be kind and gentle to those around you. I'm going to be gentle to myself now and try for a little nap before heading into work to make sure all is ready to begin again tomorrow. Take care people. Feel a little miserable if you're not well, but do notice the comforts you have and appreciate them. Love to you all.

How to do anything at all

I wonder if you're like me and look at some of the incredible achievements of other people...and wonder how they ever found time or energy to do what they've done. I do it all the time and sometimes I let it kind of get me down. I feel like I'm somehow not measuring up or not doing all I could be doing...or not doing anything significant like other people are. I have a mental list of things I'd still like to do in my life. I'm not going to share them. This is not about being accountable or sharing my dreams. It's just taking a little time to think about how other people have done what I might love to do but think I am not able to do. What sorts of barriers do I face when I look at my dreams off in the far distance? What barriers do you face between where you are now and where your dream stands...does it look like you can get to it? Or are there fences in the way? 

Some of the barriers I acknowledge in my life are age, finances, physical health, self-belief, pleasing others (or trying to!!), commitment to work, family, time...What does your list look like I wonder? It's not that I am blaming anything or anyone for not getting to those dreams in a hurry...but this is the life I have created for myself...or allowed for myself. So here I am now. What can I do to make sure I get the warm, fuzzy glow of knowing I went for something that seemed out of reach, but I got it...or got there? The answer of course is simple. The answer is movement. The answer is knowing roughly (or specifically, better still) what one of those dreams or goals is, and then starting to move towards it. Now it might be such a tiny movement to start with that you can hardly see or feel it...but you will know that you've made it. That one tiny movement will give you courage for the next. 

I have to acknowledge that there are some things I can do nothing about...like my age. But age is only a number and you only have to look around to see that age is not defining unless you allow it to be. I remember well the sight of a table laden with philosophy text books when visiting an elderly family member in a nursing home years ago. She had enrolled at university and had niggled at the staff until they provided her with a place to work on her studies in the day room. She was in her eighties. I watched a video recently of a woman in her eighties dancing salsa in a competition. She was just fabulous! Old age doesn't stop you from doing something if you really want to do it. Did the woman just get out of her chair and slip into her sequins and start flinging herself about on the stage? Not likely. I expect she began with a seed of an idea...that she'd like to learn to dance the salsa. She may never have dreamed of performing but no doubt her love for the dance led her to greater heights than she might have dreamed. I don't know. I'm just wondering about it all. The one thing I'm certain about though, is that she had to have a thought, an idea, a spark of interest that motivated her to get out of her chair, out of her house, and into a dance class. It had to start somewhere.

I find I often look at the finished product of someone's hard work and commitment and think..."I could never do that." How about you? Do you do that too? I have learned now to stop and think about it a bit more. Could I learn to dance the salsa? I probably could. Not even probably! Yes, I could learn to dance the salsa. How would I start? First I'd have to pay attention to the thought and decide it was something I was going to do. Not something I'd like to do but that I was going to do. I'd have to do a bit of research next, either talking to friends or getting on the internet and find out where I'd have to go to get some dance classes. If there weren't any within reach I could look at what lessons I might be able to find online. I'm sure there must be some there somewhere...

Likewise with finances. Almost everything we do these days seems to cost...but most of us can probably re-organise how we spend our money to create a saving space. I know I could do more in that area. Somehow the money just goes and I find myself living from pay to pay. Admittedly I've not been working full time for the past few years (I am this year!) and that made things pretty tight...but if I decided to save for a purpose, I'm sure I could do it. It's amazing how the cents that get frittered away on this and that can add up. Yesterday I bought some candles and a few more drinking glasses for my home. I love candles and they give me so much pleasure...but if I was committed to a goal of saving for a trip overseas or whatever it might be that I dream of...I might choose to forgo some of those simple pleasures and see the money mounting in my piggy bank instead. This is good. I'm starting to feel inspired. I hope you might be too. I am happy enough with my life...but I know I'd get a buzz out of ticking one or two of those dreams off my mental list. 

Time. We never have enough time. But guess what...you and I have exactly the same amount of time as any other person on the planet. And we get to decide how to spend it. That's where the rubber hits the road folks. How much time do I 'waste' in a day? A week? A month? A year? What do I consider wasted time? When working towards a dream...my ideal life...whatever it is I'm aiming for...I guess energy and time spent taking away from that goal is wasted. I guess that would go for money too. I'd need to be conscious and make decisions along the way...I'd need to be asking myself, "Is this moving me towards my goal?" What do you need to do to move towards your dreams?

I truly believe that many perceived barriers will move aside once you start. If they won't move then you will climb over them or walk around...most times a journey worth taking is not one that travels in a straight line! I'm pretty sure the sky's the limit with our dreams. When you see people celebrating their achievements don't think you could never do something like that. Yes you could if you wanted to. If you make the decision to do it. If you write it down or make a strong mental image of it. If you break it down into steps. If you figure out what you'd need to do to start moving. You can't begin with the last step up onto the podium of success. You must begin with the first tiny step of self-belief...of knowing that you can do it. 

Now okay, I have to look at the fact that not every journey begun ends up at the original goal or with the dream realised. Life's a contrary mistress and one we all must live with. Sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to...but dreams can be adjusted and embellished and even changed completely along the way. The point is though, that in beginning...you acknowledge yourself as worthy of having a dream. You acknowledge that this wonderful gift of life has given you the opportunity to do something extra-ordinary. Something more that you've been doing up until now...or something different. Trust that you will have an adventure...that you will learn something new along the way...and that makes the first step worth taking. Trust that you will have challenges that will make you stronger and fun greater than you thought possible. 

Trust yourself. Begin. Be inspired by others. Be inspired by the things you've already achieved in life. Be inspired by what you could do or be by taking one tiny step at a time. Day by day, week by week. Let me know what you've decided to aim for if you dare! I'd love to know what your dreams are...however big or small. All are worthy of your time and effort. With love, Kerry.

Fear and Freedom from the Ironic

Years ago,  back in the 1980s, we were living on our boat which was safely moored on the Marina at Coffs Harbour. As a friend was visiting from interstate, we had access to a car for a few days, and the three of us were off exploring the hinterland. One afternoon we were pottering along the road, just enjoying the change of scenery...the newness of everything when we spotted what seemed to be an injured bird on the road. We stopped and had a look and it was indeed very much alive but somehow incapacitated, and my soft heart knew we had to do something to help it. We gently wrapped it in a jumper and headed off in the car again. There was a little pub just down the road (which turned out to be the iconic Pub With No Beer, made famous by the song by Slim Dusty)and we decided to ask there if anyone knew of a local wildlife carer. As luck would have it, the publican knew of a woman who cared for injured birds and animals and gave us directions to her home. It was quite a drive and I can't remember now which direction we travelled, but on the way...a flock of tiny birds flew down in front of the car and we hit some of them. I can remember being so upset at the irony of trying to rescue one bird and in the process killing more...but we were on a mission by this stage and had to carry on. 

We found the wildlife carer at home. As we'd been told she was always home as she had so many little creatures to care for! Young orphaned joeys can need feeding as often as every hour and a half, so it takes a certain dedication to take on this kind of job. She identified the little bird we had found as a Nightjar and was happy to care for it as she had several enclosures with injured owls and other nocturnal birds. Lucky little bird! Whilst we were there she gave us a guided tour of her home. It was a large, brick home with concrete floors. She said they hadn't bothered with floor coverings because the concrete was easy to clean. There were blanket 'pouches' slung on the back of every chair and lounge...secret places for young joeys to rest and sleep and grow. A couple of older joeys were out of pouches and no doubt part of the reason for the easy clean floors! We were so pleased to have a successful outcome for our mission. The little Nightjar would be well cared for and rehabilitated in the best possible place. Still, I was disquieted by the flock of little birds that had crossed our path with not such a happy outcome.

Fast forward to the present...

Yesterday I travelled with my son up to Bonorong Wildlife Park north of Hobart to attend what I thought was an information session on how to care for injured animals. As a teacher, I just thought it might be interesting to find out more about how wildlife carers look after their little patients. It turned out to be several hours of information which comprised the course to become a Wildlife Rescuer. There were probably thirty or more people attending and we were on the receiving end of a long and very informative talk about how to attend and rescue Australian native animals and transport them safely to carers or vets for necessary treatment or euthanasia. Some interesting and shocking statistics were presented; over half a million native animals are killed on Tasmanian roads each year. Of all the rescued animals somewhere near 80% are euthanased. The point in rescuing these animals is to reduce the time and level of suffering as they die slowly and painfully if left unattended, either as a direct result of their injuries, through infection or from starvation when they can't get about normally to feed and water themselves. It is a compassionate service. The upside is knowing that the remaining 20% are rehabilitated and most returned to their bush-land homes. It's important to note just where the animal was found to allow this to happen. Many animals do not fare well if they are not returned to the right place where they can reconnect with their own families and where they are familiar with the area. Possums, by the way, cannot be relocated. They will quickly be killed by other possums that already live in the new area.

The day commenced at one thirty and in my mind it was probably going to be a couple of hours perhaps. In fact it was around four hours with a half hour break in the middle. It was fascinating and I now know, in theory at least, how to extract a joey from the pouch of many different animals. I know that an elongated teat in a pouch means there may be a young joey not far away.  I also know how (again, in theory!) to safely remove a possum from a firebox, and what to carry in a rescuer 'kit'. I can practice making sounds to lure orphaned joeys closer to allow me to capture them. But the problem began with the realisation that the day was not going to end in time for us to drive home before dark. 

Now I have, for a long time, avoided night driving. I have on occasion hit wallabies, a cat, a dog, several birds, rabbits and a possum whilst night driving. This has occurred over a driving career spanning some thirty-seven years, and over countryside from Central Queensland to Southern Tasmania. Each one has nearly ripped my heart out at the time, and as I've become older I've slowly decided that it's better not to go out at night. If my going out means a wee animal gets run over then I'd rather stay home! I know some of you  will think that's silly, and of course I do still go out at night sometimes. I drive slowly at night. I think of  darkness as a road condition and I drive accordingly. I like to give myself time if things go pear-shaped. I drive a small car. A lot of damage can occur to me and my car if things go wrong. The lights in my small car seem not bright enough, not far reaching enough, for me to hurtle along at daytime speeds. And the animals we are talking about here...Australian wildlife...are for the most part nocturnal. 

The problem was that I was still struck by the Irony Bug from that afternoon near The Pub With No Beer, and I was almost sure that driving home in the dark after a day learning how to rescue injured animals, would result in me running something over! I was consumed by anxiety and considered leaving early to avoid the night drive. I conferred with the instructor who informed me that if I left early I wouldn't be able to be on the register as a rescuer. Now, for a moment or two I thought...well, you know, I didn't actually come along today to become a rescuer, but just to learn a bit more about how to care for wild animals...but then again, as I'm here and I've learned so much, it would be a shame not to stay and hear the rest. Dilemma. Would hitting an animal on the way home mean that I was a terrible person...or that the day was wasted? No. I needed to remember that for the Nightjar it was a good thing that we came along. I have to remember that there is so much I cannot control or be responsible for. I can only do my best. I can slow down and drive mindfully, but I can't stop doing things...not unless I retire from life in our society and become a recluse. Sometimes that can sound tempting, but perhaps I can do some good while I'm out and about and just maybe I'll fill in those forms to become a registered wildlife rescuer. I suffer like many of us, from knowing there is so much to do in this world...small things can seem insignificant and not worth doing in the face of the wall of 'everything that is wrong'. Sometimes it's easier to do nothing and pretend that everything is okay. 

Well, we stayed for the duration and the drive home was relatively uneventful. We didn't see any animals until we were very close to home and then it was a few scattery rabbits that are not native and that do considerable damage to the environment, in some areas even endangering the survival of native animal populations. So last night driving home, and arriving home without killing any little creatures on the way, kind of set me free from the Irony Bug. Just because I go to do a good thing doesn't mean that a bad thing will happen on the way. It's funny how things can play in and on our minds over such long periods of time. I will still do my best to keep night driving to a minimum. I wonder if as I'm aging and slowing down a bit (I love that I'm not in a hurry and can enjoy the moments...and I hate being pushed along the highways and byways by drivers who think there is nothing more important than getting to where they are going as fast as possible)...I wonder if I'm just becoming one of those fuddy-duddy drivers that used to annoy me when I was young. I hope people, young and older, might understand and make a few more allowances for slower drivers. Perhaps we've just come to treasure life a little more as we discover that it doesn't last forever and that it can be taken from us so very quickly and unexpectedly. Perhaps we know that it's better to arrive later, a little less stressed and having enjoyed the journey. 

Watch out for slow drivers and back off a bit. Allow them to drive at a speed that they feel safe and in control of their vehicle. One day you might just need the same consideration. I hope you live long enough for that to happen. Watch out for little animals on the road. We are in their way. This is their home and we have invaded it with our monstrous killing machines that stun with blinding light and terrify with roaring motors, rushing headlong out of the darkness. Mindless metal mashers of warm, furry flesh and blood. Oh, and if you're in Tasmania, do consider getting long to Bonorong Wildlife Park and helping to support the great work they do...perhaps even sit in on the next Rescuer course. You'll learn lots, and although they now have about 1,000 rescuers on their books, they reckon on needing a network of about 4,000 to do the job well. 

Have a great day, or a great night, and don't let fear or the Irony Bug stop you from doing the things you'd like to. Make a difference. Sometimes you'll feel anxious, sometimes you'll feel afraid...but in the end most of that stuff is just in our heads and reality is a pretty good place to live.

Why I'm Wearing Make-up Tonight

I've been getting ready to go out tonight. Now usually I go out with my fella...or by myself...for dinner or a movie or whatever might take my fancy. I pop on some jeans and a top and flick on a bit of moisturiser and off I go. Not a second thought mostly these days. I've given up trying to look like someone or something I'm not, so I just go au natural and usually don't think about how I look once I'm out the door. Oh, one exception...when I go into the public toilets anywhere...and the lighting is designed to make everyone look like Herman Munster. Then I look at my reflection aghast and think I can't possibly be looking that bad and then forget all about it again and get on with my outing. There will always be lots of people who look 'better' than me. They are younger, slimmer, smoother skinned, blonder, darker, curlier, straighter, more shapely, more fashionable...you know the talk. But I am who I am. I am how I am. I might change in time...I know I'll get older. But for now I am as is. I'm going out...to work or elsewhere and I'd best just get on with it. Usually.

Tonight I'm going out with a girlfriend. She has free tickets to the cinema and invited me along for dinner and a movie as her fella is otherwise busy tonight. Cool. Girls' night out. Fun. Good. Time to get ready. Gah!! I've got nothing to wear!!! I botch together some bits and pieces that might be alright for a night out in this kind of weather...coolish but not freezing. My friend has found her style. That's what I think whenever I see her dressed to go out. She knows who she is. Her clothes are co-ordinated and she always looks great. I have to make an effort to look decent. I have always felt that I have no 'style'. I don't know what my 'style' is. I think it must be 'casual' because I don't seem to have anything much in my wardrobe that says anything else about me. Except perhaps that I'm an impulse buyer. Things don't seem to go together as I'm looking for the right outfit tonight. I start to dress and notice my reflection in the mirror as I stand in my top and knee high black stockings that will be comfortable under my boots I hope. Gah!!! Who designed full wall wardrobe doors with mirrors? One glance has further undermined my confidence...quick...put some jeans on. Ahhhh that's better. My nearly 56 year old and somewhat chunky these days legs are not looking their best...definitely better under cover. 

So I've got some clothes on. Now the face. Head to the bathroom. Tilt head upwards and look in mirror. Gah!! Stray eyebrow hairs. Now most of the time most people would think I have no eyebrows at all. They are so fair and so sparse that they are barely noticeable, even up close. These stray hairs though struck terror into my heart. I can't go out to dinner looking like this! Next adventure...find the tweezers. Done fairly quickly as I'd used them for something else just the other day. Good. Stray almost invisible to the naked eye eyebrow hairs removed. Should I pop on some make-up? I almost never wear make-up these days as I simply can't be bothered given the result. Most often it seems to highlight all of my perceived faults in a way that makes it seem rather pointless. But I'm going out with a girlfriend and I'm pretty sure she'll make an effort to put a face on...so I'd better try. 

I use a little concealer here and there...and there and there...and there (gosh, I seem to need a lot more of this than last time). I start to blend it in. I notice that my pores look like craters. I check the mirror in case I have the magnifying side facing me. Nope. This is the real deal crater face. Okay. Blending done, I think about foundation but know that will be a flipping disaster so opt just for a little bronzer and toner (is that what they call it?...compact powder with tiny light reflecting glittery bits...applied with  brush that looks like the little brother to an old fashioned shaving brush...). I put it on my forehead. It's glowing. Gosh. Wow. Better do the rest. A fine coat all over face, ears, neck, decolletage. Inside ears too for good measure. Can't stand those make-up lines...you know...the ones where you look like you're dressed for Halloween...in a mask! So all glowing and gorgeous now. Guaranteed. Guess a little mascara would be a good idea. Gah!!! Where's the mascara???? Think, Kerry, think. Where did you last wear it? On my eye-lashes! No - no!! When? When? When? A flash of insight sends me to the bathroom cupboard and my old make-up box. Nope. A scramble through the basket on top of the washing machine. Yes! It's there! Not so weird really as the washing machine is in the bathroom Alright. Hmmm. One should apply a little eye-shadow too. Before the mascara. Keep it looking natural though. More sparkle but that's okay. Nice. Mascara on. It's blue. I like that. My eyes are bloodshot. Too much computer. Too much television. Too much reading. Too much dry heat from the heat pump. Will try drops later when mascara is dry. Smile at reflection. Check stains on teeth. Note to self: book to see dentist soon.

I think that's it. Ready with an hour to spare and feeling like this is something I should write about. I'm okay but I'm wondering what it is that made me so much more self-critical getting ready to go out tonight than perhaps I usually am. Silly isn't it. Because in the end, my friend will be looking for some good conversation, some laughs and nice relaxing friendly company. She probably wouldn't care too much if I turned up in a hessian bag. Hmmm? Yes she would. She would be worried about me because I wasn't taking care of myself properly. Perhaps that's what's behind all this pressure to primp and powder. Perhaps it's not so much about trying to look different or to make myself any 'better'. Perhaps it's just saying, hey, we're going out tonight on the town and that's important to me. We don't do this very often so I'm making an effort to bring my best self tonight. Or maybe it's about all the advertising I've seen and heard over the 50+ years that I've been taking notice...and I'm not sure still that I'm good enough as I am. I suppose we have a culture of self-improvement in a way. We are constantly told in subtle and not so subtle ways that we need to be different to how we are. Even supermodels are airbrushed and positioned just so...to make them look perfect. 

I'm looking forward to a good night out. Good food. A good movie. Lots of laughter. I hope my mascara won't run and make me look like a weird blue panda. 

A final thought on presenting my best self. I don't really think it's about how I look. I think it's about arriving with a smile, an open heart and ears ready to listen. It's about being vulnerable enough to show my true self to my friends and family. It's about saying what I think in the most respectful and gentle way that I can. It's noticing the things I like and giving compliments. It's appreciating that everyone is dealing with being human and wearing a lot of the same insecurities on the inside...and the outside sometimes too. It's being kind to myself and to others wherever possible. I'm heading out tonight and thinking about how very blessed I am to be able to do so. To have such choices to make in life...what to order from the menu...what film to see...I am blessed indeed. Love to you all. Love who you are. 

A little PS
When my friend arrived to pick me up she said, "You look lovely!" So there ya go...perhaps I am a little too hard on myself. We talked a bit about why we get dressed up and don make-up, jewelry and so on before going out and said friend had this thought to contribute. She told me that her aunt had said long ago that it's part of the fun of going out...the anticipation and the ritual of preparing for something special in your life. It's about investing some time and effort to prepare yourself for a special event. When you've invested more effort in something you're likely to get more pleasure out of it. I reckon that's food for thought. I love to hear other people's perspectives on things...and especially their stories. I particularly love this one, and perhaps I'll think about investing in myself a little more than has become my habit of late..

Duckhole Lake

I've  walked into the Duckhole twice lately, the second time early this morning, and really enjoyed the experience both times. The first time was just after a really vicious wind storm had gone through the area a few weeks back, and it had been wet too. I took quite a few snaps on that trip and those are the ones I'll share with you here today. The forest seemed somehow more alive on that first walk, with mosses and lichens looking rich and vibrant. Today things were looking a little faded.. 

I have a lovely pair of walking boots and I'm trying to wear them in. They don't give me blisters, but the first several times I wore them, the soles of my feet seemed to be burning up. Today they were much better. I did something slightly different this time...didn't lace up the last set of eyelets...so I'm wondering if that meant more movement of my foot in the boot...or more air? Better circulation? I don't know. Perhaps I'm just finally starting to get used to them. I'll keep experimenting and see what happens. 

The weather has been dry for a few weeks and I could really see the changes in the bush along the track. Apart from the ground and foliage being drier, the creek was less frivolous than last time; this time it was just tinkering along. A special treat today was the appearance of first one, then two lyre birds. Alas, my camera was still in my pack at that time and I didn't want to miss watching them while I dug it out...so no pictures...but they were just delightful to watch. They danced in their funny tip-toe gait along the boardwalk ahead of us, darting now and then into the bush at the side of the track then back again to continue along in front. They appeared to be a couple, but there was no display of that beautiful lyre-shaped tail for us - just two largish brown birds trotting ahead. On the way back from the lake I kept my eyes peeled but they were nowhere to be seen despite several generous and fresh 'calling cards' left on the boardwalk. Photographic opportunity missed. It's a funny thing of mine; I like to do the first half of a 'return' walk without my camera in hand so that I can just enjoy the sights...then on the way back I have my camera out and ready to collect the lovely images I've seen along the way.

Going early in the day this time, we found the lake very still and quiet, although after sitting quietly for a little while we enjoyed a real show by the resident currawongs as they swooped and screeched and squawked above the lake, their black wings and tails edged in white lace. It was a noisy and raucous show, but they were quite elegant in an Aussie bush kind of way. I thought we might see snakes today but if they were there they kept out of sight. 

We are so blessed to have so many lovely walks close to home. My friend and I promised each other that we'd get out and walk a bit more often. It's too easy to be busy with work and family commitments and forget to be outside enjoying the beauty of it all. We forget when we're busy in our own little bubbles that all of nature is out there and getting on with living and dying and decaying to give nourishment to more living things. It never rests; it never stops. It's truly wonderful to know it's there but even better to get out and spend some time being enveloped by it all. 

Welcome to the Duckhole Lake walk!

Pretty little home for bush babies...slaters and centipedes perhaps?

Mossy Giant

Thanks to the lovely people who made the boardwalk. It makes for easy walking!

Chicken wire for non-slip safety.
Wearing in those walking boots...greater walks ahead!

Soft and fluffy lichens...fairy gardens.

Fairy Bells

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My favourites...handsome shelf fungi.

Beautiful, serene, Duckhole Lake...mountain backdrop shrouded in mist.

So many magical micro-habitats...aka  fairy gardens...transported back to childhood wonders.

Mystical. Magical. Tiny bush treasures.

Pink and pretty fungi

Mushrooms, toadstools everywhere...beautiful.

Isn't that something!

Gorgeous concentric arcs...fungi  I must invest in a field book so I can identify them!