It's complex isn't it? This life.
The more time i spend with Welsh, the more i feel our colours are mixing. I'm yellow and he's red and we seem to be creating a particular shade of gold that i have never seen before. It's like the colour of the sunset we watched last night mixed in with the quarter of his iris that is flecked with orange, mixed in with endless pints of lager, mixed in with the fire in my stomach when I see him after a long absence.
It's the space we are creating between us. Our own special dynamic. Our private jokes and all the ways we recognise each other. It's sunshine and passion and a broken wine glass so-lets-just-share-this-one. It's the beginning of a road we were both walking anyway.
He is impossibly sweet. Sentimental. Creative. He has hidden depths that house a solemness. A playful seriousness and possibly the tendency to over analyse any given situation. Caught between reaction and reflection, he moves gently, thoughtfully, carefully. Except for the way he actually moves. Then he is like a bull in a china shop. He surprises me everyday with his insight, his patience, his quick wit and slow smile. Just when i think i have him pegged, a new dimension emerges and i remember he is 30 years in the making and i have know him for a tiny 3 months.
He was born in a village with snow and sheep and castles. He had 20 kids at his school. He fell in love with a girl who had blonde hair and my name. Then he grew up and got on a plane and found me. I was not exactly waiting for him. I was busy leaving a marriage and vowing to never fall in love again because it hurt too too too much to be worth it.
You know what else is gold? Goldfish.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The labour of love.
What's up with this heat Melbourne? I have a marathon to train for dontcha know? Selfish, Melbourne. Really bloody selfish. Go pick on someone your own size, like Sydney for example.
So there has been very little jogging happening this last week. There has been some going into the city for dinner, hanging with my nephew, driving to Rye for a swim and spending Australia day conducting an impromptu pub crawl around Richmond, but not much jogging unfortunately.
I had a cafe latte with my beautiful and sensitive Kate and we were talking about life (I kid you not!) and grief and ex husbands (mine, not hers) and i came to a conclusion as one does when one is in a cafe with ones excellently insightful friend.
I want to be friends with my ex husband. It is hard, yes. But it is harder not to be friends. The hurt has all but evaporated, the anger dissolved and sitting there at the bottom of the sieve is a little nugget of truth that has been like a stone in my shoe ever since; I still like the guy. And that stone has a piece of sand next to it; Maybe we were supposed to just stay friends in the first place. Not immediately after we separated, but the first FIRST place. The place when we were actually friends and he lent me books and i gave him CDS and he rescued me from terrible clients and I, well I paid for his beer after a particularly horrific day at work.
Oh and guess what? It looks like my boyfriend will be staying in Melbourne. I know! How excellent.
So there has been very little jogging happening this last week. There has been some going into the city for dinner, hanging with my nephew, driving to Rye for a swim and spending Australia day conducting an impromptu pub crawl around Richmond, but not much jogging unfortunately.
I had a cafe latte with my beautiful and sensitive Kate and we were talking about life (I kid you not!) and grief and ex husbands (mine, not hers) and i came to a conclusion as one does when one is in a cafe with ones excellently insightful friend.
I want to be friends with my ex husband. It is hard, yes. But it is harder not to be friends. The hurt has all but evaporated, the anger dissolved and sitting there at the bottom of the sieve is a little nugget of truth that has been like a stone in my shoe ever since; I still like the guy. And that stone has a piece of sand next to it; Maybe we were supposed to just stay friends in the first place. Not immediately after we separated, but the first FIRST place. The place when we were actually friends and he lent me books and i gave him CDS and he rescued me from terrible clients and I, well I paid for his beer after a particularly horrific day at work.
Oh and guess what? It looks like my boyfriend will be staying in Melbourne. I know! How excellent.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Threadbare.
I saw his car last night.
The number plate looked familiar. Community Services Parking Permit? check. Crap all over the back seat? check.
I have not seen him in almost three months. Three months! Maybe he has cut all his hair off. Lost weight. Got a tattoo in a really obvious place. You see, i wouldn't know any of these things. He is my husband but i wouldn't know any of these things. My husband.
I know that he sleeps on his back and gets a sore neck in the mornings. I know that he thinks it's kinda funny when people accidently trip over. I know that he once tripped over on purpose in the middle of a busy city street, just to make me laugh.
But what i don't know.....Does he still cry sometimes about his mum? Does he visit the tree where we threw her ashes that day? Does he wonder where it all went wrong? Does he miss me? Does he even remember me? Is he counting down the days until our marriage is simply a mistake from the past? Until he can sign his name and wash his hands?
With each month that passes, the tiny threads are unravelling and fracturing. He dates another woman. Twang. I get a new boyfriend. Snap. I see his car in the parking lot and feel dread rather than excitement. Crack. Sometimes i cut the threads on purpose; Like when i heard that he never speaks at work anymore. It's not your job to make sure he is okay. You cannot keep doing this to yourself. Snip. And what about that first week in March this year? It is going to be hell on Earth for him. Our 3rd wedding anniversary, the second anniversary of his mums suicide, our divorce. Jesus, I cannot face his pain when my own is so overwhelming. The pull is too great. Those threads don't stand a chance.
I wonder if we'll notice when the last one breaks. Or if I will simply wake one morning, and find him, like all those wishes we threw up to the stars, gone.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
50 things i love...
About being an Aunty.
All this talk about finger babies and pregnancy dreams and Miranda Kerrs breast, has got me all gooey about babies in general. And if there are two babies that i love most in the world, they are my extraordinarily gorgeous niece and nephew. Here is a short lost of some of the things that i love about them.
1. Their faces.
2. The fact they look like most people in my family.
3. When Miss P calls me and yells "Hiiiiiiii" down my ear hole.
4. The bizarre boy related games that Mr C makes me play. (i.e submarine machine guns.)
5. When they look at my paintings and ask "but what IS it?"
6. The hugs.
7. The kisses.
8. The thumping on the floor boards as they rush to the front door when i arrive.
9. When P lets me do her hair and then she looks at mine and says "same"
10. The first time i held them-such different experiences but equally beautiful.
11. Coopers cheekiness.
12. His gentle nature.
13. The quiet way he sometimes observes his world.
14. When he is not participating in the conversation but i can tell he is listening to all that is being said.
15. His love of lollies.
16. His kind heart.
17. Miss P's energy
18. When she pulls a "just let me do what i want and have what i want" face and i think to myself "don't even try it P, i invented that look."
19. When she calls my dad by his first name.
20. When she calls my sister "mummy" and i think "my god, she is her mum."
21. Her thousand different facial expressions.
22. Their relationship with one another.
23. Their pudgy little baby fingers.
24. Every time Cooper gets a hair cut and he become more like a boy. (and less like a baby)
25. Coopers intuition and something he said to me in Vietnam that i cannot think about without crying.
26. The time i slept with them both in a double bed and i realised the kind of parent i am going to be. (one that lets her kids sleep in bed with her because for gods sake it is 3am and it's kinda cosy this way anyway)
27. One day, they will be my childs cousins.
28. "bruvda" (brother) "starple" (purple star) "ladyboy" (best way to get a reaction from their mother.)
29. The way my heart feels when i see them. Hands down, the best feeling ever.
30. They are the glue in our family.
31. I once broke up with a man because my sister said "you deserve to be loved by a boyfriend as much as Cooper loves you." and she was absolutely right.
32. Having children has shown me an entirely different dimension to my sister.
33. I never knew how strong she could be.
34. Lots of people say Cooper is their hero but my sister is mine.
35. Playing pedicures
36. Playing Dora the explorer with special effect voices.
37. I owe all my knowledge about Ben 10 to Cooper.
38. The first time i saw a photo of Miss P, I booked a flight back to Melbourne within 5 minutes.
39. The giddy phone call with my sister when she found out she was having a little girl.
40. The giddy phonecall with my sister when she had, had that little girl.
41. The giddy phone call with that little girl yesterday morning about a princess dress and a family friend that was coming to visit.
42. The moment when Cooper is laughing so much and trying to get the word "more" out.
43. How they get so excited to show me something, be it the new chickens or an empty cupboard.
44. Their defiance and independence which acts as a constant reminder that although they are part of our tight knit family, they are also their own people.
45. Dinners at their house.
46. Knowing that somewhere down the line, in amongst the paint covered bodies and hours in the back yard, my sister got it very, very right.
47. Cooper taught me to slow down and sit still.
48. Pepper helped me find my laugh again.
49. Having my heart triple in size when they came into the world.
50. Everything
I'm sure that it is the same for everyone. That love that exists beyond any word in the English language.
The funny thing is, when i was going through grief (what a terrifically simple way to encompass those horrible two years) I wondered how people coped with life. i figured that at some stage, everyone goes through a really shit thing happening. How are we all still walking around and functioning? How are we all not complete wrecks, crying in the corner? And it's a cliche but the answer really is love. We all carry around grief and pain and loss on our shoulders, but if we also carry love in our heart, it's not nearly as heavy.
All this talk about finger babies and pregnancy dreams and Miranda Kerrs breast, has got me all gooey about babies in general. And if there are two babies that i love most in the world, they are my extraordinarily gorgeous niece and nephew. Here is a short lost of some of the things that i love about them.
1. Their faces.
2. The fact they look like most people in my family.
3. When Miss P calls me and yells "Hiiiiiiii" down my ear hole.
4. The bizarre boy related games that Mr C makes me play. (i.e submarine machine guns.)
5. When they look at my paintings and ask "but what IS it?"
6. The hugs.
7. The kisses.
8. The thumping on the floor boards as they rush to the front door when i arrive.
9. When P lets me do her hair and then she looks at mine and says "same"
10. The first time i held them-such different experiences but equally beautiful.
11. Coopers cheekiness.
12. His gentle nature.
13. The quiet way he sometimes observes his world.
14. When he is not participating in the conversation but i can tell he is listening to all that is being said.
15. His love of lollies.
16. His kind heart.
17. Miss P's energy
18. When she pulls a "just let me do what i want and have what i want" face and i think to myself "don't even try it P, i invented that look."
19. When she calls my dad by his first name.
20. When she calls my sister "mummy" and i think "my god, she is her mum."
21. Her thousand different facial expressions.
22. Their relationship with one another.
23. Their pudgy little baby fingers.
24. Every time Cooper gets a hair cut and he become more like a boy. (and less like a baby)
25. Coopers intuition and something he said to me in Vietnam that i cannot think about without crying.
26. The time i slept with them both in a double bed and i realised the kind of parent i am going to be. (one that lets her kids sleep in bed with her because for gods sake it is 3am and it's kinda cosy this way anyway)
27. One day, they will be my childs cousins.
28. "bruvda" (brother) "starple" (purple star) "ladyboy" (best way to get a reaction from their mother.)
29. The way my heart feels when i see them. Hands down, the best feeling ever.
30. They are the glue in our family.
31. I once broke up with a man because my sister said "you deserve to be loved by a boyfriend as much as Cooper loves you." and she was absolutely right.
32. Having children has shown me an entirely different dimension to my sister.
33. I never knew how strong she could be.
34. Lots of people say Cooper is their hero but my sister is mine.
35. Playing pedicures
36. Playing Dora the explorer with special effect voices.
37. I owe all my knowledge about Ben 10 to Cooper.
38. The first time i saw a photo of Miss P, I booked a flight back to Melbourne within 5 minutes.
39. The giddy phone call with my sister when she found out she was having a little girl.
40. The giddy phonecall with my sister when she had, had that little girl.
41. The giddy phone call with that little girl yesterday morning about a princess dress and a family friend that was coming to visit.
42. The moment when Cooper is laughing so much and trying to get the word "more" out.
43. How they get so excited to show me something, be it the new chickens or an empty cupboard.
44. Their defiance and independence which acts as a constant reminder that although they are part of our tight knit family, they are also their own people.
45. Dinners at their house.
46. Knowing that somewhere down the line, in amongst the paint covered bodies and hours in the back yard, my sister got it very, very right.
47. Cooper taught me to slow down and sit still.
48. Pepper helped me find my laugh again.
49. Having my heart triple in size when they came into the world.
50. Everything
I'm sure that it is the same for everyone. That love that exists beyond any word in the English language.
The funny thing is, when i was going through grief (what a terrifically simple way to encompass those horrible two years) I wondered how people coped with life. i figured that at some stage, everyone goes through a really shit thing happening. How are we all still walking around and functioning? How are we all not complete wrecks, crying in the corner? And it's a cliche but the answer really is love. We all carry around grief and pain and loss on our shoulders, but if we also carry love in our heart, it's not nearly as heavy.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The wonderful place i lived when i was 30 years old.
The boring bits:
I ran 2.25km on a treadmill and did some creative things with weights.
Running laps around the same oval is getting old.
I called a guy today about a job.
The less boring bits;
I had a dream this morning that my sister called me fat and that she had another baby after we had spoken on the phone about a dream she had had about our other sister having a baby. It was like life imitating art imitating a dream.
Welsh and i had a big talk last night about the F word. (Future that is.) We skirted and toe dipped and finally acknowledged that we would both like to give each other a chance to be an important part of each others lives. This means finding a way to be together, despite being geographically challenged. Which leaves us with exciting choices like 6 months in Wales/Italy/New Zealand or somewhere we have not even thought of yet. Preference one of course is him getting a sponsorship to stay in the country for the next few years. But it's good to have loose plans in case that doesn't happen.
My plan is to make my way to wherever we decide to be, after visiting Paris in April. Then of course get home in October in time to run 21km. So thoughts anyone? Nice places to visit for 6 months and work and live and fall more in love and read and write and spend the year that i am 30 years old?
I ran 2.25km on a treadmill and did some creative things with weights.
Running laps around the same oval is getting old.
I called a guy today about a job.
The less boring bits;
I had a dream this morning that my sister called me fat and that she had another baby after we had spoken on the phone about a dream she had had about our other sister having a baby. It was like life imitating art imitating a dream.
Welsh and i had a big talk last night about the F word. (Future that is.) We skirted and toe dipped and finally acknowledged that we would both like to give each other a chance to be an important part of each others lives. This means finding a way to be together, despite being geographically challenged. Which leaves us with exciting choices like 6 months in Wales/Italy/New Zealand or somewhere we have not even thought of yet. Preference one of course is him getting a sponsorship to stay in the country for the next few years. But it's good to have loose plans in case that doesn't happen.
My plan is to make my way to wherever we decide to be, after visiting Paris in April. Then of course get home in October in time to run 21km. So thoughts anyone? Nice places to visit for 6 months and work and live and fall more in love and read and write and spend the year that i am 30 years old?
Monday, January 17, 2011
Follow Me.
If i was into drawing graphs, the correlation between my lack of job satisfaction and time spent blogging would be remarkable. It would come out as one giant X as motivation fell and blogging soared.
Honestly, i need to get a job. Yes, yes, we all know I have a job but i mean a REAL job. One that requires me to use, oh, I don't know, more than say 2% of of my brain and doesn't make me want to kill every single person who speaks to me.
The issue is that my qualifications and experience are a bit scattered to say the least. I mean, children's services, youth work, art therapy, working in a toy shop and no real desire to do anything other than blog? Hmmm...I think even my year 10 career counsellor would struggle with that one. Oh, and once I actually get my act together and register with a union, i will be qualified to work as a counsellor. Maybe i can career counsel myself! Or maybe i should just GET A JOB.
Anyway, while i job hunt, I will also blog but i need some positive reinforcement people. Click that "follow" button and make me feel like i am not wasting my life. Much appreciated.
Honestly, i need to get a job. Yes, yes, we all know I have a job but i mean a REAL job. One that requires me to use, oh, I don't know, more than say 2% of of my brain and doesn't make me want to kill every single person who speaks to me.
The issue is that my qualifications and experience are a bit scattered to say the least. I mean, children's services, youth work, art therapy, working in a toy shop and no real desire to do anything other than blog? Hmmm...I think even my year 10 career counsellor would struggle with that one. Oh, and once I actually get my act together and register with a union, i will be qualified to work as a counsellor. Maybe i can career counsel myself! Or maybe i should just GET A JOB.
Anyway, while i job hunt, I will also blog but i need some positive reinforcement people. Click that "follow" button and make me feel like i am not wasting my life. Much appreciated.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
A run through.
Get it? RUN through. How hilarious.
Guess what i just did? Got a job? Nope. Got divorced? No. Serviced my car? Boring.
No, those are all the bleh things on my very long to do list. What i actually did, was run 2km today. AND i walked 2km. And i also walked an incidental 1.9km today too, just for good measure (and coffee.)
I’m doing laps around the local oval you see. Today the first lap was hard, the second lap was less hard but still boring. The third was as easy as the fourth and by the fifth I was just keen to get finished so it was quite easy. From house to back to the house again was a total of 35 minutes. I was really red when i got home. It is not attractive.
Oh i just remembered i did more walking today. I walked around the gardens near my old house. It is impossibly beautiful there. All ponds and greenhouses and over sized chess boards. It is also the place i got married almost three years ago. I have walked through that garden about 100 times. Run through it. Ridden my bike through it. Had picnics there, written letters, drunk beer and laughed at cockatoos. Today i discovered a secret path that i had never come across before. How is that even possible? I could not believe that I, biggest romantic i know, lover of all things whimsical, subscriber to the notice the little, strange and subtle things philosophy had been completely blind to a secret path for all these years. It is a planned path, not something created by people wanting to get drunk in the bushes.
So obviously i walked the secret path as it wound it’s way through crooked trees and beds of violets. I thought about how my imaginary friend as a child was called Violet. And how she hated going to kinder and the woman down the road. I wondered how Violet is doing now.
When i emerged at the other end of the path i kind of half stumbled back onto the main track again, into the sunlight, right in front of a gate. I walked through it, backwards. Well, not backwards, i mean i walked forwards but going in the other direction as before. And by before, i mean the day i got married.
Things to remember;
When i don’t feel like running, just run anyway.
Even though I think you know everything, I can still be surprised.
The day I got married, I didn’t know about the secret path, but it had existed all along. It offers a different path which is beautiful in its own right and even more beautiful because it is different.
Guess what i just did? Got a job? Nope. Got divorced? No. Serviced my car? Boring.
No, those are all the bleh things on my very long to do list. What i actually did, was run 2km today. AND i walked 2km. And i also walked an incidental 1.9km today too, just for good measure (and coffee.)
I’m doing laps around the local oval you see. Today the first lap was hard, the second lap was less hard but still boring. The third was as easy as the fourth and by the fifth I was just keen to get finished so it was quite easy. From house to back to the house again was a total of 35 minutes. I was really red when i got home. It is not attractive.
Oh i just remembered i did more walking today. I walked around the gardens near my old house. It is impossibly beautiful there. All ponds and greenhouses and over sized chess boards. It is also the place i got married almost three years ago. I have walked through that garden about 100 times. Run through it. Ridden my bike through it. Had picnics there, written letters, drunk beer and laughed at cockatoos. Today i discovered a secret path that i had never come across before. How is that even possible? I could not believe that I, biggest romantic i know, lover of all things whimsical, subscriber to the notice the little, strange and subtle things philosophy had been completely blind to a secret path for all these years. It is a planned path, not something created by people wanting to get drunk in the bushes.
So obviously i walked the secret path as it wound it’s way through crooked trees and beds of violets. I thought about how my imaginary friend as a child was called Violet. And how she hated going to kinder and the woman down the road. I wondered how Violet is doing now.
When i emerged at the other end of the path i kind of half stumbled back onto the main track again, into the sunlight, right in front of a gate. I walked through it, backwards. Well, not backwards, i mean i walked forwards but going in the other direction as before. And by before, i mean the day i got married.
Things to remember;
When i don’t feel like running, just run anyway.
Even though I think you know everything, I can still be surprised.
The day I got married, I didn’t know about the secret path, but it had existed all along. It offers a different path which is beautiful in its own right and even more beautiful because it is different.
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