This has been a year of reflection and change - and of seriously cutting back on stuff I do... including updating this blog. So sorry guys!
Instead, I've focused on keeping myself together.
Yes, I've been knitting - but that is therapy and meditation. And satisfying - but only when you know your gifts are appreciated. I really do knit love and care and hugs into my pieces. And I want the recipients to feel that love. If they don't appreciate the gifts - then, off the list. Generic, shop-bought presents it will be. There's only so much of me and my time to go around.
I've also sucked at keeping my reading up-to-date. *Sigh*. Now I'm back full-time front-of-house in a library, I should really be back reading my area. Maybe, just maybe, that could be my resolution this year.
Anyway - my report card for this year is: must try harder. And I will - just in areas that actually help me, too. Because, you know what, I'm worth looking after - and I'm going to do just that. But, I will try and update this, too. For fun, and when I feel like it - I won't let it become an albatross.
Take care - and I hope you look after yourselves next year too. Sometimes we all need to be a little bit selfish.
Thursday, 29 December 2011
Saturday, 12 November 2011
Knitting projects update
Man, I suck at updating this. Too busy actually knitting I think!. A while ago I posted my knitting hitlist. Time for an update and some pretty pictures.
Jod's present all done. And here's a photo - modelled by someone some of you know. The pattern is from Brave new knits, again.
Then there's my shrug, from Circular Knitting Redefined - doesn't look much like the original! But, I really struggled with this one. Positive there was a problem with the pattern. That could be why I didn't place in the WI comps... :(
And, I finished Kath's birthday present...
My teddy bear - which will be a Christmas present - is at Auntie Pam's having its face added. Mum did the sewing up. A joint effort!
However - I did get 2nd for my fingerless mittens and 1st for my mobile... (ok, I was the ONLY entry for the mobile - but that doesn't stop the WI judges not handing out 1st places).
Jod's present all done. And here's a photo - modelled by someone some of you know. The pattern is from Brave new knits, again.
 |
| From the book |
 |
| As modelled at work. |
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| From the book |
And, I finished Kath's birthday present...
However - I did get 2nd for my fingerless mittens and 1st for my mobile... (ok, I was the ONLY entry for the mobile - but that doesn't stop the WI judges not handing out 1st places).
Saturday, 1 October 2011
My early days
From the archive… a long post...
Because my mother wasn’t sure – well, no one really was – if I’d make it out of hospital, Mum kept a diary. I have it – and my Plunket book. Dealing with premature babies was difficult 40 years ago. Because of placenta previa, Mum had a caesarean section, and had been in hospital for weeks before my birth – keeping her away from her four older children (aged 10 to 15) and husband. A difficult time all around.
Anne arrived 5.35pm Friday. 4½lb in Prems. Respiratory trouble. Me in ward 8.30pm with drip and drain.
Day 1: Saturday
Day 2: Sunday
Day 3: Monday
Day 4: Tuesday
Day 5: Wednesday
Day 6: Thursday
Day7: Friday
Day 8: Saturday
Day 9: Sunday
Day 10: Monday, Home. [It’s around this time Mum was told I’d live.]
Day 11: Tuesday. Rang Prems and 4lb 1oz.
Day 12: Wednesday. Saw her and she’s looking fine. Seems to be putting meat on her legs. Arms still skinny.
Day 13: Thursday. Rang and all’s well.
Day 14: Friday. Two weeks old. Pinched car and went to see you with Mum. You’re looking fine.
Day 15: Saturday. You’re young cousin’s arrived. Jodee Ann. Grow fast. You’re fine. 4lb 3oz and out of incubator into crib.
Day 16: Sunday. Oh you do look good in your crib. I could pinch you and bring you home now. Up to 60mls.
Day 17: Monday. All’s well. Keep it up.
Day 18: Tuesday. Went to work with Dad hoping to see you. Tomorrow.
Day 19: Wednesday.
Day 20: Thursday. All’s well. Baby beautiful was the comment today.
3 weeks: Friday. Shawl finished. 4lb 12oz. What good progress. So keep up the good work.
Day 22: Saturday. Sister said that you’re only 4lb 6oz. Sounds more reasonable. Never mind. Keep it going.
The diary ends… so highlights from my Plunket book.
Age: 7 weeks 3 days. Weight: 6lb 4oz. Head: 13¾ inches. Chest: 12½ inches.
Milk: 20oz; water 10ozs; sugar 3 tablespoons. Orange juice ½-2 teaspoons in 2-6ozs cooled water.
Age: 8 weeks 3 days. Weight: 6lb 15oz
Large umbilical hernia. Doing well.
Age: 9 weeks 3 days. Weight: 7lb 3oz
Unsettled at times.
Age: 10 weeks 6 days. Weight: 8lb 8oz
Recent diarrhoea, treated by DR. Has seemed hungry. Milk 24 oz. Water 12 oz. Sugar 3 tablespoons.
Age: 12 weeks 6 days. Weight: 9lb 2oz. Length: 22¼ inches. Head 14½ inches. Chest: 14 inches.
Holds head well.
Milk 30oz. Water 10oz. Karitae 2½ tablespoons. 1-2 solids.
Age: 14 weeks 6 days. Weight: 10lb 1oz
Vocalises. Very contented. Not keen on solids.
Age: 16 weeks 6 days. Weight: 11lb 6oz
Been unwell, wasn’t drinking. Drinking 5 x 7oz now.
Age: 18 weeks 6 days. Weight: 12lb
Milk 34 oz. Water 6oz. Karitae 2½ tablespoons.
Weight bearing.
Having 3 hourly day feeds. Sleeping 12 hours at night.
Age: 21 weeks 6 days. Weight: 13lb 13 oz.
Half roll. 2nd triple 2nd polio – severe reaction.
Age: 25 weeks 6 days. Weight: 14lb 7oz. Length: 25 ½ inches. Head: 16¼ inches. Chest: 16 inches.
Sits short time. Rolls. Almost whole milk. Eating well.
Age: 29 weeks 6 days. Weight: 16½lb
Age: 35 weeks. Weight: 17lb
2 teeth. Convulsed with them, no fever. Content. Sits alone.
Age: 9 months. Weight: 17lb 6oz. Length: 27? inches. Head: 17 inches. Chest: 17¼ inches.
Crawls. Pulls up. Says a few words. Good appetite. 3 bottles. More variety in diet. Hearing tested.
Age: 10 months. Weight: 19lb 4oz.
Age: 1 year. Weight: 20½ lb. Length: 29½ inches. Head: 18¼ inches. Chest: 18¼ inches.
Walks round furniture. Has had rubella.
Age: 15 months. Weight: 21lb
10 teeth. Walked 14 months.
Age: 18 months. Weight: 22lb 2oz.
Poor appetite. Takes raw fruit. Sleeps well.
Age: 20 months. Weight: 23lb
Age: 2 years 3 months. Weight: 27½lb.
And that’s the end – my height and weight charts are fun, because I start off waaaay off the bottom of the charts!
The advice section is interesting, too.
ADVICE TO MOTHERS
Planning the day: Ask the Plunket nurse to help to work out a plan for the day which will enable you to care for your baby and manage the household chores. Feed baby three or four hourly during the day but arrange the last feed at night and the first in the morning to suit all concerned. Sit in a comfortable chair for nursing: relax and enjoy the feeding time.
Rest and Sleep: Make time for an afternoon rest – relax on a sofa or bed with feet up. Read, knit or have forty winks while baby is having his afternoon sleep. Adopt an early to bed policy.
Meals: Beside the main meal of the day have either fish, egg, liver, a cheese dish, bacon, ham, or some other protein for lunch or tea. Have some kind of milk pudding with fruit at dinner time and porridge and milk for breakfast is the weather is not too hot. Avoid rich fatty foods and go slow on sweets and chocolates. Drink a pint of milk daily in some for another and take a small glass of water each time you feed baby. Be generous with your allowance of fruit and vegetables.
Visitors: Discourage visitors until you have readjusted yourself to your extra responsibilities and baby is settled. An occasional call from an understanding friend or neighbour makes a welcome break which is refreshing and beneficial.
The Ex-baby: Bring him into the family picture as much as possible to help him adjust happily to a new situation.
Post-Natal Examination: Arrange for your medical check when baby is six weeks old.
ADVICE TO FATHERS
Help your wife to adhere to her daily plan. Be punctual to meals. Get to know your baby and enjoy him. Changing napkins, tucking him down, bathing him at the week-ends, and bringing him to his mother to be fed in the evening or early morning provide opportunities for you to lend a helping hand and learn about your baby.
Your co-operation with the family shopping, the washing up and other household tasks will encourage your wife and lighten her work.
When baby is settled and his mother has regained her strength, try to arrange for a baby sitter occasionally so that you can take your wife out for an evening’s entertainment.
SUGGESTED PLAN FOR BABY’S DAY
(The times suggested should be adjusted to suit the individual household)
6 a.m. Change baby, feed him and put him to sleep.
9.30 a.m. Sunbath baby when he is old enough: then bath, feed, hold out, and put to sleep outside in sheltered spot if possible, or on a balcony or verandah.
2 p.m. Change baby, feed, hold out, and put outside if possible.
4 p.m. Give fresh fruit juice. When he is older let him have a kicking period in crib or play-pen.
5-5.30 p.m. Wash face, hands and buttocks: change into night clothes. Feed, hold out and put to bed.
9-10 p.m. Change, feed, and tuck down for the night.
Sit baby up during and after feed to help him to expel wind.
Because my mother wasn’t sure – well, no one really was – if I’d make it out of hospital, Mum kept a diary. I have it – and my Plunket book. Dealing with premature babies was difficult 40 years ago. Because of placenta previa, Mum had a caesarean section, and had been in hospital for weeks before my birth – keeping her away from her four older children (aged 10 to 15) and husband. A difficult time all around.
Anne arrived 5.35pm Friday. 4½lb in Prems. Respiratory trouble. Me in ward 8.30pm with drip and drain.
Day 1: Saturday
Quite a night. Worrying about babe. Went to see her. What a small wee bundle. Mum & Ray [my dad] and Chris [my brother] came up, said babe was much better. Will name her Anne. Such a small baby needs a small name.
Day 2: Sunday
A fit of the blues when writing to Gwen [my dad’s sister, in hospital recovering from a stroke]. Went and saw Anne, looking much better. Dad & Mum came up with flowers. Being optimistic and so am I.
Day 3: Monday
Slept well and out and about. Flowers from June and Harold [our neighbours]. They’re beautiful. [Doctor] Dempsey arrived at breakfast time. Put very well in his report and told me Anne’s much improved. [Doctor] St John came late, he’s being a nuisance in Prems, keeping an eye on her. He’s very pleased with her progress.
Mum, Marie T [not sure who she is] and Ray here this arvo. Very good. Went down early evening to see Anne. She’s got such long legs and a little bottom. I wonder what it’ll be when she’s Beth & Kath’s ages [my oldest sisters, then 14 and 15]. Her progress has improved and her hair is still dark.
Rob came [my mum’s youngest brother] and Pete from Cubs [Mum was a Cub leader, Pete was Rob’s best mate], with chocs.
Day 4: Tuesday
Slept well again and Sister said that she’s made another improvement. Yay. Home Mon yay.
Coral [my mum’s sister] came with some skin perfume. Received quite a few cards and they’re lovely. Went to see Anne and the Sister let me hold her. She’s so small but I feel much better now. Going around with a “Cheshire Smile”. Hope to go down with Ray tonight.
Ray, Kath and Ellen [the sister up from me] came up and we went to down to Prems. Made Ray come in [my dad hated hospitals!] and he was thrilled at the improvement she’s made.
Saw the father of the very sick babe. He’s looking much better and the father was thrilled as there had been no hope for him the previous night. God keep him safe.
Day 5: Wednesday
Looks like being a beautiful day.
Lunch time: I’ve been down to see her and she’s still fine. I even touched her. She’s so soft and warm. Her hair is like the softest down. She wriggled and squirmed. Sister said that that was good. They’re turned every 15mins. The more they’re stimulated the better. Anne’s in the intensive care part of Prems and when she moves from there, she’s progressed. I’ll be happy when she’s in cooling off. I don’t think I’ll be allowed to feed her before I go, but you never know.
The baby over from her is very sick and not expected to last the day. I thought he was looking much improved last night but apparently there’s something else wrong with him. Thank you God for every day of my Anne’s life.
Mum, Ray’s Mum, Helen C [a family friend] and Aunty Dolly [my dad’s aunt] came today. Mum’s made a lovely nursery basket for Anne, full of goodies. I must be having a down day as I howled over them all. The Vicar came and I’m having communion tomorrow. He’s terrific, wish he was ours. I’ll take Ray and Beth down to see Anne tomorrow night. Ray and Chris came. Oh I miss them all, I’ll be glad to get home.
Well the end of another day. Thank you Good Lord for Anne and help me make people understand how precious she is.
Day 6: Thursday
[Two of the mothers went home that day] I’ll be a bit lost now, but Mrs H is here and her little fellow is still going strong. Mrs B has had her twins, both girls, they’re lovely and fat. Mum, Beth, Moya and Lorrain {Mum can’t remember who these girls were] came this arvo. Mum gave me a flash compendium to write thank yous in, Moya bought me carnations (boy they are long), and a lovely card. Lorrain, tulips (they look as if they’re made of wax) and another lovely card. I’m feeling quite ruined. The windowsill looks lovely, all flowers and cards.
Had communion this morning. [The vicar] came down later to tell me that Mrs C has lost hers at last. I’m glad it’s all over for her. Must write to her.
Day7: Friday
Another not so good day. Just couldn’t be bothered doing anything. Went and saw Anne three times. I was allowed to hold her again tonight. Her head just fitted into my hand. She’s so soft and really quite lovely. Mum recons she looks like Beth did. Mr Hansen said that she looked a bit like me, so maybe she’s right. Mum, Gwen and Glennis [my dad’s niece] came today and I was thrilled to see them.
A young girl walked out of her today without the baby that she’d loved and fed for ten days. It’s for adoption. She said that it was her punishment for having her. What a cruel way to punish yourself for a crime that wasn’t entirely your fault. What were her parents thinking of?
Thank you Dear Lord for Anne’s first week of life. Her oxygen supply is down to 25%. It’s normal at 21%. Her chest doesn’t sink in at all now and today she had her first feed from a bottle. She gets tired so quickly that they can’t feed her that way too often. What steps forward now. Almost giant strides. I’m so thrilled and thank God every time I see her. She’s such a small, precious scrap of humanity. Well my dear, I’ll close until tomorrow. Keep fighting.
Day 8: Saturday
Rang Ray to tell him about Anne’s progress and he’s thrilled. Be up to see you tonight darling girl. Ellen’s got a hole in her head. She collected a window at school. Poor little thing, it’s not the same when Mum’s not there to help heal hurts. Went to see Anne after visiting and she’s still fine. She’s now 3lb 14oz, and 8oz loss. No wonder she looks so small and thin. I’m allowed to feed her tonight all being well. Ray and kids came up tonight, Mum & Val came up this arvo. They sort of tire you out when the hit you en masse. Fed Anne. What a small armful. She took just over ½ of her feed. That’s not bad. They had a little fellow of 1lb 3oz arrive. 26 weeks his mum was. They have a survival rate of 1 in 2000. Poor wee mite. Probably won’t be there tomorrow.
Day 9: Sunday
He wasn’t.
What a grey old day. Rain and blowy. 12noon. Have seen Anne and she’s been moved in room 10. Real progress. Next step’s a crib. Wonder how long that will take.
Sue and Coral [mum’s sisters] came up this arvo.
Hope to get down to see Anne but don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. Hope so. Ran out of reading matter and Ray’s late, hope he won’t be much longer. Getting quite weepy again. Feeling sorry for myself and that’s not good. Milk’s gone completely now and not tender any more so that’s one pain gone. It lasted exactly a week.
Well, Ray’s gone and I don’t think I’ll be going down. I should. I went down after some massive pain killers. She’d been fed and had hiccups. Poor little thing didn’t like the idea much. Still I heard her making a noise and that’s something. Goodnight precious little thing. See you tomorrow.
Day 10: Monday, Home. [It’s around this time Mum was told I’d live.]
Day 11: Tuesday. Rang Prems and 4lb 1oz.
Day 12: Wednesday. Saw her and she’s looking fine. Seems to be putting meat on her legs. Arms still skinny.
Day 13: Thursday. Rang and all’s well.
Day 14: Friday. Two weeks old. Pinched car and went to see you with Mum. You’re looking fine.
Day 15: Saturday. You’re young cousin’s arrived. Jodee Ann. Grow fast. You’re fine. 4lb 3oz and out of incubator into crib.
Day 16: Sunday. Oh you do look good in your crib. I could pinch you and bring you home now. Up to 60mls.
Day 17: Monday. All’s well. Keep it up.
Day 18: Tuesday. Went to work with Dad hoping to see you. Tomorrow.
Day 19: Wednesday.
Kath’s birthday so we all came in. Aren’t you lucky to be able to come out into the room off the nursery. Beth held you and was thrilled. So were the others as they all had a good look at you. Up to 75mls of milk. Boy you must be getting hungrier. I hope you’re growing. I even changed your pants. Hurry up home.
Day 20: Thursday. All’s well. Baby beautiful was the comment today.
3 weeks: Friday. Shawl finished. 4lb 12oz. What good progress. So keep up the good work.
Day 22: Saturday. Sister said that you’re only 4lb 6oz. Sounds more reasonable. Never mind. Keep it going.
The diary ends… so highlights from my Plunket book.
Age: 7 weeks 3 days. Weight: 6lb 4oz. Head: 13¾ inches. Chest: 12½ inches.
Milk: 20oz; water 10ozs; sugar 3 tablespoons. Orange juice ½-2 teaspoons in 2-6ozs cooled water.
Age: 8 weeks 3 days. Weight: 6lb 15oz
Large umbilical hernia. Doing well.
Age: 9 weeks 3 days. Weight: 7lb 3oz
Unsettled at times.
Age: 10 weeks 6 days. Weight: 8lb 8oz
Recent diarrhoea, treated by DR. Has seemed hungry. Milk 24 oz. Water 12 oz. Sugar 3 tablespoons.
Age: 12 weeks 6 days. Weight: 9lb 2oz. Length: 22¼ inches. Head 14½ inches. Chest: 14 inches.
Holds head well.
Milk 30oz. Water 10oz. Karitae 2½ tablespoons. 1-2 solids.
Age: 14 weeks 6 days. Weight: 10lb 1oz
Vocalises. Very contented. Not keen on solids.
Age: 16 weeks 6 days. Weight: 11lb 6oz
Been unwell, wasn’t drinking. Drinking 5 x 7oz now.
Age: 18 weeks 6 days. Weight: 12lb
Milk 34 oz. Water 6oz. Karitae 2½ tablespoons.
Weight bearing.
Having 3 hourly day feeds. Sleeping 12 hours at night.
Age: 21 weeks 6 days. Weight: 13lb 13 oz.
Half roll. 2nd triple 2nd polio – severe reaction.
Age: 25 weeks 6 days. Weight: 14lb 7oz. Length: 25 ½ inches. Head: 16¼ inches. Chest: 16 inches.
Sits short time. Rolls. Almost whole milk. Eating well.
Age: 29 weeks 6 days. Weight: 16½lb
Age: 35 weeks. Weight: 17lb
2 teeth. Convulsed with them, no fever. Content. Sits alone.
Age: 9 months. Weight: 17lb 6oz. Length: 27? inches. Head: 17 inches. Chest: 17¼ inches.
Crawls. Pulls up. Says a few words. Good appetite. 3 bottles. More variety in diet. Hearing tested.
Age: 10 months. Weight: 19lb 4oz.
Age: 1 year. Weight: 20½ lb. Length: 29½ inches. Head: 18¼ inches. Chest: 18¼ inches.
Walks round furniture. Has had rubella.
Age: 15 months. Weight: 21lb
10 teeth. Walked 14 months.
Age: 18 months. Weight: 22lb 2oz.
Poor appetite. Takes raw fruit. Sleeps well.
Age: 20 months. Weight: 23lb
Age: 2 years 3 months. Weight: 27½lb.
And that’s the end – my height and weight charts are fun, because I start off waaaay off the bottom of the charts!
The advice section is interesting, too.
ADVICE TO MOTHERS
Planning the day: Ask the Plunket nurse to help to work out a plan for the day which will enable you to care for your baby and manage the household chores. Feed baby three or four hourly during the day but arrange the last feed at night and the first in the morning to suit all concerned. Sit in a comfortable chair for nursing: relax and enjoy the feeding time.
Rest and Sleep: Make time for an afternoon rest – relax on a sofa or bed with feet up. Read, knit or have forty winks while baby is having his afternoon sleep. Adopt an early to bed policy.
Meals: Beside the main meal of the day have either fish, egg, liver, a cheese dish, bacon, ham, or some other protein for lunch or tea. Have some kind of milk pudding with fruit at dinner time and porridge and milk for breakfast is the weather is not too hot. Avoid rich fatty foods and go slow on sweets and chocolates. Drink a pint of milk daily in some for another and take a small glass of water each time you feed baby. Be generous with your allowance of fruit and vegetables.
Visitors: Discourage visitors until you have readjusted yourself to your extra responsibilities and baby is settled. An occasional call from an understanding friend or neighbour makes a welcome break which is refreshing and beneficial.
The Ex-baby: Bring him into the family picture as much as possible to help him adjust happily to a new situation.
Post-Natal Examination: Arrange for your medical check when baby is six weeks old.
ADVICE TO FATHERS
Help your wife to adhere to her daily plan. Be punctual to meals. Get to know your baby and enjoy him. Changing napkins, tucking him down, bathing him at the week-ends, and bringing him to his mother to be fed in the evening or early morning provide opportunities for you to lend a helping hand and learn about your baby.
Your co-operation with the family shopping, the washing up and other household tasks will encourage your wife and lighten her work.
When baby is settled and his mother has regained her strength, try to arrange for a baby sitter occasionally so that you can take your wife out for an evening’s entertainment.
SUGGESTED PLAN FOR BABY’S DAY
(The times suggested should be adjusted to suit the individual household)
6 a.m. Change baby, feed him and put him to sleep.
9.30 a.m. Sunbath baby when he is old enough: then bath, feed, hold out, and put to sleep outside in sheltered spot if possible, or on a balcony or verandah.
2 p.m. Change baby, feed, hold out, and put outside if possible.
4 p.m. Give fresh fruit juice. When he is older let him have a kicking period in crib or play-pen.
5-5.30 p.m. Wash face, hands and buttocks: change into night clothes. Feed, hold out and put to bed.
9-10 p.m. Change, feed, and tuck down for the night.
Sit baby up during and after feed to help him to expel wind.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Knitting hit list
Getting serious now... my list of current and upcoming / planned knitting projects:
- Jod's birthday present: due around 1 October. Pretty much nearly done... only about 15 rounds to go. So, not so bad, except each round contains 406 stitches. Well, it's done with love, and not much cursing, I promise!
- Kath's birthday present: due around 10 October. Haven't even started. Oops! Well, it's only part of her present.
- For the WI October comps: due around 20 October: shrug - hunting for a pattern; teddy bear - have a pattern, haven't started, need to find yarn; fingerless mittens - done a few, but might do another pair.
- For Mum to wear at WI October: 2/3 to 3/4 done. Shouldn't take long - it's only 15 stitches a row!
- Christmas presents: 7 toys; and a couple of surprises.
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Monkey moments
How could you not love Monkey? I ask this a lot. And everyone seems to love her. She has an amazing personality, brought out, cherished and nurtured by her parents - and the day care staff.
She's adventurous and intrepid and independent. And she's caring and thoughtful and intelligent.
Here she is, climbing a tree. She only asked for help when she got a bit stuck because the railings had run out and she was struggling to figure out how to get higher - ie by holding onto the tree trunk.
As far as I know, she's only been in one fight at day care - and that's because the other child had pushed her best friend and made them cry.
Unusually for children her age (she turns 2 next month) she would refer to herself in photos as 'me' - rather than use her name. This is because she couldn't pronounce her name properly and so didn't until she could By the way, she can now, judging by the chanting of her name on Sunday.
And, on Sunday, she called me by name (mostly) for the first time. Oh, her dad has been trying to get her to call me by name for months, but this time - without prompting - it came out.
I can remember a couple of my great-nephews calling my by name the first time. Both times, it went something like this:
'Auntie Anne' - at which point my little heart sung - they know who I am! - and rejoiced. But, this was followed by... 'can I have...'
Did Monkey follow the pattern? Oh no, not at all. Her dad asked, 'What's this?' and Monkey replied 'dad coffee'. Then followed up with 'auntie coffee?' in a concerned tone, just in case I was missing out.
Bless.
She is a treasure. Happy nearly birthday Monkey!
She's adventurous and intrepid and independent. And she's caring and thoughtful and intelligent.
Here she is, climbing a tree. She only asked for help when she got a bit stuck because the railings had run out and she was struggling to figure out how to get higher - ie by holding onto the tree trunk.
As far as I know, she's only been in one fight at day care - and that's because the other child had pushed her best friend and made them cry.
Unusually for children her age (she turns 2 next month) she would refer to herself in photos as 'me' - rather than use her name. This is because she couldn't pronounce her name properly and so didn't until she could By the way, she can now, judging by the chanting of her name on Sunday.
And, on Sunday, she called me by name (mostly) for the first time. Oh, her dad has been trying to get her to call me by name for months, but this time - without prompting - it came out.
I can remember a couple of my great-nephews calling my by name the first time. Both times, it went something like this:
'Auntie Anne' - at which point my little heart sung - they know who I am! - and rejoiced. But, this was followed by... 'can I have...'
Did Monkey follow the pattern? Oh no, not at all. Her dad asked, 'What's this?' and Monkey replied 'dad coffee'. Then followed up with 'auntie coffee?' in a concerned tone, just in case I was missing out.
Bless.
She is a treasure. Happy nearly birthday Monkey!
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Quick note!
Just a quick note to say I'm still alive!
And, I'm knitting, knitting, knitting - but as it's all for presents, I have to keep quiet for a time...
Will post photos when I can.
And - I have all these opinions and ideas of what to blog about, but.... not the time to do it! One day I hope that the thoughts and time coalesce and harmonise.
And, I'm knitting, knitting, knitting - but as it's all for presents, I have to keep quiet for a time...
Will post photos when I can.
And - I have all these opinions and ideas of what to blog about, but.... not the time to do it! One day I hope that the thoughts and time coalesce and harmonise.
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
Knitting projects
Gosh I suck at updating this! Anyway - here's some of the projects I've completed lately - images from the pattern, followed by what I did with it.
These are all from: Welcoming home baby by Tricia Drake.
These are all from: Welcoming home baby by Tricia Drake.
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| Didn't feel like a pom-pom, but felt it needed something... I-cord it is then. |
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| The Queen Bead has promised to send me a photo of Baby Bead inside its pod. |
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| This is now Mum's driving blanket. Keeps her knees warm, but doesn't get tangled in the peddles. |
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Doctor Who thoughts
Thanks to Doctor Who on facebook, I found this series of articles on how to dress like the various incarnations. In, and of, itself, this is fun! But... as you head on through the Doctors, the insight into their characters is fascinating.
So, make a start... find out how to dress like the First Doctor.
There's a bit of an oops after the Sixth Doctor... the post just says 'coming soon'... so here you go: Seventh Doctor.
Or, you could be boring and read in reverse order from this link.
PS You HAVE to watch the vid at the end of How to Dress like the Fifth Doctor.
So, make a start... find out how to dress like the First Doctor.
There's a bit of an oops after the Sixth Doctor... the post just says 'coming soon'... so here you go: Seventh Doctor.
Or, you could be boring and read in reverse order from this link.
PS You HAVE to watch the vid at the end of How to Dress like the Fifth Doctor.
Thursday, 4 August 2011
Knitting update
I've been a bit busy lately... what with knitting and all...
I've had a break from socks - apart from an itty-bitty pair for Baby Bead. I've done beanies, fingerless mittens, started on a scarf for my mummy.... but what has occupied my knitting time (and dishes, and cooking, and tidying, and...) has been this!
The pattern is from Brave new knits. Best thing - no seams! (Well, only one itty-one - the lace panel on the neckline - and no one can tell. My sewing is getting better.)
PS the brooch I'm wearing as a choker was a 21st present from my grandmother. She'd bought it in the 70s in London.
I've had a break from socks - apart from an itty-bitty pair for Baby Bead. I've done beanies, fingerless mittens, started on a scarf for my mummy.... but what has occupied my knitting time (and dishes, and cooking, and tidying, and...) has been this!
PS the brooch I'm wearing as a choker was a 21st present from my grandmother. She'd bought it in the 70s in London.
Friday, 8 July 2011
Stereotypes and shopping
A couple of months ago - on Fair Go - a nine-year-old perfectly expressed how I feel about clothes and jewellery. Check out the video here.
Everything is pink and purple in girl-land - and hearts and ruffles.
Like young Shannon, I'm not a pink and purple and hearts and ruffles type of gal. I have no problem with those that are.
At least as a grown-up, I have more choice in clothes - black, really. Maybe some red or purple...
But jewellery... hmmmm... And decorations...
I don't do hearts. I don't do crosses. (I'm not a Christian, so why should I? Just like I don't do ankhs or hamsa. These are not my beliefs, but they are others. And I respect them, and show that by not wearing them as an accessory.)
And that is why I have spent four days dropping into a shop, trying to find jewellery I can cope with.
The xx-genes in human females does not automatically indicate a preference for pink / purple / hearts / frills / lace / ruffles.
The xy-genes in human males does not automatically indicate a preference for navy / grey / cards / sport / fishing / argyle patterned socks.
So, here I am, struggling to express individuality when forced into boxes.
And you wonder why I knit, and make my own jewellery.
Everything is pink and purple in girl-land - and hearts and ruffles.
Like young Shannon, I'm not a pink and purple and hearts and ruffles type of gal. I have no problem with those that are.
At least as a grown-up, I have more choice in clothes - black, really. Maybe some red or purple...
But jewellery... hmmmm... And decorations...
I don't do hearts. I don't do crosses. (I'm not a Christian, so why should I? Just like I don't do ankhs or hamsa. These are not my beliefs, but they are others. And I respect them, and show that by not wearing them as an accessory.)
And that is why I have spent four days dropping into a shop, trying to find jewellery I can cope with.
The xx-genes in human females does not automatically indicate a preference for pink / purple / hearts / frills / lace / ruffles.
The xy-genes in human males does not automatically indicate a preference for navy / grey / cards / sport / fishing / argyle patterned socks.
So, here I am, struggling to express individuality when forced into boxes.
And you wonder why I knit, and make my own jewellery.
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Public personas
What masks do you wear? Where, and with whom, are you truly yourself?
If that is while I'm alone, then the 'real' me seems to be in 'sleep' mode - in low-power mode, but capable of restarting when needed.
I'm not an extrovert (surprised? Probably not), but I can spend a whole day interacting with people - workmates and customers. So, when I get home, I need downtime. It's tiring wearing that public mask for hours on end.
What about online? Here - on my blog - I share a mix of professional and personal info. On facebook, it's more personal, and family-related, really. Twitter - again a mix - but there I'm more like a stalker, than a participant. On linkedin, strictly professional. At all times I'm aware that people I know from my different worlds are reading and, possibly, passing on my public thoughts. So, although I share stories from my personal life online, I am careful how and what it is. Because you never know what happens. What goes online, stays online.
At work I can be a bit manic, a bit of a flirt (depending on the audience and situation, of course) - a performer as needed. Watching the surprise on my sister's face one night when I slipped into work mode made me realise that most of my family don't know that person - that Annie. [We were at a fundraiser, and there to be customers, but our family were swamped, so I helped out].
So many people know that work-Annie. And/or the Storylines-Annie.
Within the family, through strength of numbers (and growing) I'm known mainly as Auntie Anne - or Auntie Annie.
It's rare to find someone who knows Anne. And I sometimes think she is vanishing. And I miss her. I don't really know her these days, if I ever did.
Then there's the online me - often masked as madhamster. Sometimes angry-mad. Sometimes crazy-mad. A bit forgetful. And mad-keen on family. Oh, and knitting.
All this made me think of Alice Cooper (lately I've been doing that a bit. Not sure why - it began before seeing him in Top Gear out-takes). In an interview I saw/read/heard years ago, he talked about his concerts. How he knew what he was doing. But when Alice came on stage - he had no idea. Another interview, he talked about his kids saying things like 'Dad. Dad. Alice is on tv.'
So, in his head, in his behaviour, and within his family, Alice is a very distinct separate persona. A mask - a performance - that he dons as needed.
So - where does this leave me? Trying to find myself within the masks and faces I wear for the sake of others.
Welcome. Welcome to my online mask - Ms Mad Hamster.
What mask are you wearing?
If that is while I'm alone, then the 'real' me seems to be in 'sleep' mode - in low-power mode, but capable of restarting when needed.
I'm not an extrovert (surprised? Probably not), but I can spend a whole day interacting with people - workmates and customers. So, when I get home, I need downtime. It's tiring wearing that public mask for hours on end.
What about online? Here - on my blog - I share a mix of professional and personal info. On facebook, it's more personal, and family-related, really. Twitter - again a mix - but there I'm more like a stalker, than a participant. On linkedin, strictly professional. At all times I'm aware that people I know from my different worlds are reading and, possibly, passing on my public thoughts. So, although I share stories from my personal life online, I am careful how and what it is. Because you never know what happens. What goes online, stays online.
At work I can be a bit manic, a bit of a flirt (depending on the audience and situation, of course) - a performer as needed. Watching the surprise on my sister's face one night when I slipped into work mode made me realise that most of my family don't know that person - that Annie. [We were at a fundraiser, and there to be customers, but our family were swamped, so I helped out].
So many people know that work-Annie. And/or the Storylines-Annie.
Within the family, through strength of numbers (and growing) I'm known mainly as Auntie Anne - or Auntie Annie.
It's rare to find someone who knows Anne. And I sometimes think she is vanishing. And I miss her. I don't really know her these days, if I ever did.
Then there's the online me - often masked as madhamster. Sometimes angry-mad. Sometimes crazy-mad. A bit forgetful. And mad-keen on family. Oh, and knitting.
All this made me think of Alice Cooper (lately I've been doing that a bit. Not sure why - it began before seeing him in Top Gear out-takes). In an interview I saw/read/heard years ago, he talked about his concerts. How he knew what he was doing. But when Alice came on stage - he had no idea. Another interview, he talked about his kids saying things like 'Dad. Dad. Alice is on tv.'
So, in his head, in his behaviour, and within his family, Alice is a very distinct separate persona. A mask - a performance - that he dons as needed.
So - where does this leave me? Trying to find myself within the masks and faces I wear for the sake of others.
Welcome. Welcome to my online mask - Ms Mad Hamster.
What mask are you wearing?
Sunday, 3 July 2011
Foibles of family trees
What is your definition of family? What does family mean to you?
A couple of years ago, I posted about a family tree online product we were asked to check out - and I asked some questions. These questions still linger. [Don't go looking for the tree - I've since removed it. See also my discussion about embedded families].
As a school project, I was sometimes asked to make up a family tree. They usually got a streamlined version. I just focused on the less-complicated immediate family bit.
But even then there were things left out.
And that's sad. There are people who have left holes in our hearts, who don't seem to 'fit' on traditional family trees.
You can add in a stillbirth, for example. But what about those babies that didn't make it full term? The ones that were named, and whose arrival was much anticipated. Or the miscarried / aborted ones who left holes and influenced people's lives - although their sex and names were never known. But, each year around what should/might have been their birthday, their mothers grieve and remember.
What about adoption? We're fortunate that our mother was so open, so we knew there was a half-brother out there - and his birthday - but until I was 15, we didn't know him. Another question: how does he and his children/grandchildren deal with their family tree? Do they just focus on the legal/adopted side and ignore the biological (well, what is known of it).
Then there's other people - those who have no biological link but who are so much a part of your family that there has to be something you can do to show that.
Some of you know about Monkey and her parents. How can I represent this gorgeous little girl I consider a niece? Oh yes, she is family. When her future arrival was announced my then 14-year-old niece said 'yay! I won't be the youngest any more'. She is our niece. Her dad is part of our family. He is an uncle. A brother. But in scientific fact? There is no connection. Emotionally, that is a different story. The reality. He's my ex. My dad was his best friend and mentor. He was the one who started us the journey to buy Mum and Dad's place up north - because he didn't want Grandad (my dad) left up there alone. At formal events (weddings, civil services) he and his partner and Monkey are in the family photos.
In a couple of generations - when we write up our family tree - their influence and entanglement within my family will not be represented.
I ask again - what is your definition of family? Who would be missing from a traditional family tree of your family?
A couple of years ago, I posted about a family tree online product we were asked to check out - and I asked some questions. These questions still linger. [Don't go looking for the tree - I've since removed it. See also my discussion about embedded families].
As a school project, I was sometimes asked to make up a family tree. They usually got a streamlined version. I just focused on the less-complicated immediate family bit.
But even then there were things left out.
And that's sad. There are people who have left holes in our hearts, who don't seem to 'fit' on traditional family trees.
You can add in a stillbirth, for example. But what about those babies that didn't make it full term? The ones that were named, and whose arrival was much anticipated. Or the miscarried / aborted ones who left holes and influenced people's lives - although their sex and names were never known. But, each year around what should/might have been their birthday, their mothers grieve and remember.
What about adoption? We're fortunate that our mother was so open, so we knew there was a half-brother out there - and his birthday - but until I was 15, we didn't know him. Another question: how does he and his children/grandchildren deal with their family tree? Do they just focus on the legal/adopted side and ignore the biological (well, what is known of it).
Then there's other people - those who have no biological link but who are so much a part of your family that there has to be something you can do to show that.
Some of you know about Monkey and her parents. How can I represent this gorgeous little girl I consider a niece? Oh yes, she is family. When her future arrival was announced my then 14-year-old niece said 'yay! I won't be the youngest any more'. She is our niece. Her dad is part of our family. He is an uncle. A brother. But in scientific fact? There is no connection. Emotionally, that is a different story. The reality. He's my ex. My dad was his best friend and mentor. He was the one who started us the journey to buy Mum and Dad's place up north - because he didn't want Grandad (my dad) left up there alone. At formal events (weddings, civil services) he and his partner and Monkey are in the family photos.
In a couple of generations - when we write up our family tree - their influence and entanglement within my family will not be represented.
I ask again - what is your definition of family? Who would be missing from a traditional family tree of your family?
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Knitting thoughts
We live in a moment of history where change is so speeded up that we begin to see the present only when it is already disappearing. ~ R. D. Laing.
We live in a world of machines. Our world moves faster, bigger, and better with every moment. Machines replace humans and often do our jobs better.
When you are knitting socks and sweaters and scarves, you aren't just knitting. You are assigning a value to human effort. You are holding back time. You are preserving the simple unchanging act of handwork.
I will remember that knitting is more meaningful than it seems.
The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work. ~ Emile Zola.
Really, there are only two kinds of people who are going to understand about hand-knit socks: those who wear them and know the singular joy of perfect socks, and the knitters who have the pleasure of giving that exquisite experience. Everybody else thinks you must be a special kind of crazy to spend so much time making something that you could buy for $1.99 at the store.
The only way to educate the masses is to knit for them.
From: At knit's end: meditations for women who knit too much by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee.
Thank you Yarn Harlot for expressing this so well.
We live in a world of machines. Our world moves faster, bigger, and better with every moment. Machines replace humans and often do our jobs better.
When you are knitting socks and sweaters and scarves, you aren't just knitting. You are assigning a value to human effort. You are holding back time. You are preserving the simple unchanging act of handwork.
I will remember that knitting is more meaningful than it seems.
The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work. ~ Emile Zola.
Really, there are only two kinds of people who are going to understand about hand-knit socks: those who wear them and know the singular joy of perfect socks, and the knitters who have the pleasure of giving that exquisite experience. Everybody else thinks you must be a special kind of crazy to spend so much time making something that you could buy for $1.99 at the store.
The only way to educate the masses is to knit for them.
From: At knit's end: meditations for women who knit too much by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee.
Thank you Yarn Harlot for expressing this so well.
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Thursday, 26 May 2011
Thoughts for a Thursday... fandom!
To celebrate the 2nd episode of the latest Doctor Who series... some fandom...
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
PS there is an official game coming out.
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
see more Lol Celebs
PS there is an official game coming out.
Thursday, 19 May 2011
Thursday for a Thurday: techno taming
Ever feel like technology is taking over your life?
Most Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I'm sitting in front a computer for about 10 hours a day at work. Doing techie stuff. You know, email, internet stuff - research, searching, chat, updating webpages - working on documents and spreadsheets... Pretty much all work-related.
Thursdays - about six hours or so. Friday and Saturday, not so much. Also explains why I spend so much time of Saturday out from the workroom and from behind the desk.
This also explains why I'm a sporadic facebooker. And why I forget I have a brand-new twitter account.
And... why I only rarely actually plug-in-and-turn-on my broadband at home.
After hours at work spent in front of a screen - when I'm at home, I'd rather have the screen a few feet away - a TV screen, where I'm not expected to do anything, up to and including paying attention. And I'll knit.... or read. Or both at the same time.
I'm not that much of a techno-nut to enjoy being hooked in all the time.
And, that's my excuse for not updating my blog so much.
And the blogs I follow tend to be the ones that email me. The whole logging-on to yet ANOTHER account, or visiting ANOTHER site does my head in. Just email me any updates, damn it. Facebook - I remember to visit, because it emails me when I'm tagged.
Mea culpa.
Most Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I'm sitting in front a computer for about 10 hours a day at work. Doing techie stuff. You know, email, internet stuff - research, searching, chat, updating webpages - working on documents and spreadsheets... Pretty much all work-related.
Thursdays - about six hours or so. Friday and Saturday, not so much. Also explains why I spend so much time of Saturday out from the workroom and from behind the desk.
This also explains why I'm a sporadic facebooker. And why I forget I have a brand-new twitter account.
And... why I only rarely actually plug-in-and-turn-on my broadband at home.
After hours at work spent in front of a screen - when I'm at home, I'd rather have the screen a few feet away - a TV screen, where I'm not expected to do anything, up to and including paying attention. And I'll knit.... or read. Or both at the same time.
I'm not that much of a techno-nut to enjoy being hooked in all the time.
And, that's my excuse for not updating my blog so much.
And the blogs I follow tend to be the ones that email me. The whole logging-on to yet ANOTHER account, or visiting ANOTHER site does my head in. Just email me any updates, damn it. Facebook - I remember to visit, because it emails me when I'm tagged.
Mea culpa.
Friday, 6 May 2011
Thoughts for a Thursday... mothers
Belated thoughts. I wrote this on Thursday, but computer access limited until now...
I've written about my mum and my nanas before. With Mother's day coming up, I wondered what more I had to say. Well, a lot really, but not all of it appropriate to a public forum. Instead, I thought about non-mothers - or, un-mothers, as my oldest sister and I call ourselves (and we sometimes give each other Happy Un-Mother's Day presents).
I think mothers (and fathers) are wonderful. I think the decision to have children, to nurture them - body & soul, mind & spirit - so they become amazing human beings, is a joyous thing.
But, I also think there is too much pressure and expectation to join this band.
Motherhood wasn't an option for me, for reasons that you don't need to know. They are my reasons.
Why do those of us without children - for whatever reasons - are made to feel somehow lesser beings?
Parenthood should be a choice, made with both emotion and logic. But it should not be a matter of public debate and discussion, particularly if you have not gone down that route.
I believe you can have a happy and fulfilled life with children. I believe you can have a happy and fulfilled life without children.
It is your choice.
It is your life.
The rest of the world can just butt out.
I've written about my mum and my nanas before. With Mother's day coming up, I wondered what more I had to say. Well, a lot really, but not all of it appropriate to a public forum. Instead, I thought about non-mothers - or, un-mothers, as my oldest sister and I call ourselves (and we sometimes give each other Happy Un-Mother's Day presents).
I think mothers (and fathers) are wonderful. I think the decision to have children, to nurture them - body & soul, mind & spirit - so they become amazing human beings, is a joyous thing.
But, I also think there is too much pressure and expectation to join this band.
Motherhood wasn't an option for me, for reasons that you don't need to know. They are my reasons.
Why do those of us without children - for whatever reasons - are made to feel somehow lesser beings?
Parenthood should be a choice, made with both emotion and logic. But it should not be a matter of public debate and discussion, particularly if you have not gone down that route.
I believe you can have a happy and fulfilled life with children. I believe you can have a happy and fulfilled life without children.
It is your choice.
It is your life.
The rest of the world can just butt out.
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Thoughts on a Thursday...for the girls
Being a Nana seems to be fashionable now. I'm not afraid to admit that I'm one of them. I've talked before about domestic arts, and housework - and the difference. I subscribe to Wendyl Nissen's newsletter, and use her laundry liquid. (One day I might even make my own.)
Today I came over all Nana-ish and sent my mother - yes, my mother! - housework tips! Gosh... Anyway - for those interested:
Add one cup of white vinegar into your final clothes wash rinse to soften clothes and strip out any laundry powder residue (which can cause skin reactions).
Put a couple of drops of liquid soap onto a dry cloth and wipe over your bathroom window. It will stop fogging thanks to steam for a while. Once the fogging begins again, it's really easy to wipe clean and clears quickly when wiped.
On the subject of Nanas...
Yesterday, I spent the day at the Auckland West Federation of Women's Institutes AGM. I managed NOT to be nominated - or nominate myself - onto the federation committee. (However, I did volunteer to be co-opted if needed.) So, a day surrounded by wonderful women. Mostly older, it must be said. (And I felt like an idiot, putting out coffee cups & napkins, while the older folk put out the tables & chairs. Damn back injury.)
To all women out there - join them! If you can't make meetings, become an associate member, like me. Each institute and federation has a 'roll call' - things you can do to help out community groups. Simple things like boxes of tissues for a local special school. If you're crafty, you can make bibs for them. Or knit beanies / bootees / jumpers for hospitals, etc. Every institute and federation will have their own list. They're one of those organisations that work quietly in the background, doing little bits to help in their community. Unsung heroes.
Seriously, what's not to like about an organisation whose motto is: To encourage and inspire women within a dynamic, caring organisation.
They would welome you. I promise. My niece and her son have been welcomed by her local institute, although most of the other members are old enough to be her grandmother (one of them is, of course). If you think you're too young, take along a friend your own age. If you're an at-home mother, for whatever length of time, there's a built-in group of support / help / advice (good or otherwise) there.
If you don't have a nana of your own - there's a group there with a Nana for you.
If you don't have any craft-y skills now, you will have, if you're willing to learn.
So - whose up to the challenge? Join the nanas. Learn new skills. Meet new people. Find some adoptable nanas for yourself. Give to the community. Be a hero.
Today I came over all Nana-ish and sent my mother - yes, my mother! - housework tips! Gosh... Anyway - for those interested:
Add one cup of white vinegar into your final clothes wash rinse to soften clothes and strip out any laundry powder residue (which can cause skin reactions).
Put a couple of drops of liquid soap onto a dry cloth and wipe over your bathroom window. It will stop fogging thanks to steam for a while. Once the fogging begins again, it's really easy to wipe clean and clears quickly when wiped.
On the subject of Nanas...
Yesterday, I spent the day at the Auckland West Federation of Women's Institutes AGM. I managed NOT to be nominated - or nominate myself - onto the federation committee. (However, I did volunteer to be co-opted if needed.) So, a day surrounded by wonderful women. Mostly older, it must be said. (And I felt like an idiot, putting out coffee cups & napkins, while the older folk put out the tables & chairs. Damn back injury.)
To all women out there - join them! If you can't make meetings, become an associate member, like me. Each institute and federation has a 'roll call' - things you can do to help out community groups. Simple things like boxes of tissues for a local special school. If you're crafty, you can make bibs for them. Or knit beanies / bootees / jumpers for hospitals, etc. Every institute and federation will have their own list. They're one of those organisations that work quietly in the background, doing little bits to help in their community. Unsung heroes.
Seriously, what's not to like about an organisation whose motto is: To encourage and inspire women within a dynamic, caring organisation.
They would welome you. I promise. My niece and her son have been welcomed by her local institute, although most of the other members are old enough to be her grandmother (one of them is, of course). If you think you're too young, take along a friend your own age. If you're an at-home mother, for whatever length of time, there's a built-in group of support / help / advice (good or otherwise) there.
If you don't have a nana of your own - there's a group there with a Nana for you.
If you don't have any craft-y skills now, you will have, if you're willing to learn.
So - whose up to the challenge? Join the nanas. Learn new skills. Meet new people. Find some adoptable nanas for yourself. Give to the community. Be a hero.
Thursday, 21 April 2011
Thoughts for a Thursday... family at war
Anzac Day is always a time of reflection. Time to think about war and its impact.
I’d always thought that The War (in this case World War II) didn’t have much of an impact on my immediate family. My dad was too young, and my grandads had long-standing injuries that meant they were unfit. Today I realised that The War really did have a major influence on my life – let alone others in my immediate family.
The War changed people. It sent my biological maternal grandfather off to the Pacific (Air Force ground crew). Like many men, he left behind his wife and children (my mother and aunt). While operating as a solo mother, my grandmother had an independent life. Something she’d never had before. Her husband returned, I’m sure with mental trauma from his experiences, and things didn’t work out. As my nana said ‘he hit me once, and I forgave him. He hit me again, and I went out the window’. And she did. Never to return. (Gosh, I don’t mean he hit her, and the impetus pushed her out the window. I mean, she ran away.)
How did you get a divorce in 1944? You had to prove adultery. And that is why my aunt was born in July 1945. And my grandparents married in October 1945.
So – what impact did the war have on my family? It split it. It gave my mother a new dad, and a new name. It meant we ended up with a really amazing grandad. Maybe my biological grandfather would have been nice, but we’ll never know. (That said, his grandchildren from his second marriage cried at his funeral, so maybe they did get a good grandad.)
What else? That Nana had three brothers: Jim and Ernie were in the army (Middle East), and Al in the navy (on the Achilles during the Battle of the River Plate). Uncle Jim was seriously injured at some point – got to meet Rommel while in a German hospital. At least, that’s the story – hard to know really. As his sister (Nana) admitted once, ‘I don’t know how sane I’d be if I’d had his war experiences’. Well, he wasn’t really insane, as much as paranoid.
A completely different story for his wife. How sane would you be, if one of your first ever jobs was helping repatriate Holocaust victims to Palestine? As with many of Uncle Jim’s stories, we were sceptical – but no, she really did. Diagnosis: paranoid schizophrenia, with a side-order of violence. Army training really helped with that.
I’d always thought that The War (in this case World War II) didn’t have much of an impact on my immediate family. My dad was too young, and my grandads had long-standing injuries that meant they were unfit. Today I realised that The War really did have a major influence on my life – let alone others in my immediate family.
 |
| My grandfather in uniform, at a family wedding. October 1944. |
How did you get a divorce in 1944? You had to prove adultery. And that is why my aunt was born in July 1945. And my grandparents married in October 1945.
So – what impact did the war have on my family? It split it. It gave my mother a new dad, and a new name. It meant we ended up with a really amazing grandad. Maybe my biological grandfather would have been nice, but we’ll never know. (That said, his grandchildren from his second marriage cried at his funeral, so maybe they did get a good grandad.)
 |
| Mum with Uncle Jim. |
A completely different story for his wife. How sane would you be, if one of your first ever jobs was helping repatriate Holocaust victims to Palestine? As with many of Uncle Jim’s stories, we were sceptical – but no, she really did. Diagnosis: paranoid schizophrenia, with a side-order of violence. Army training really helped with that.
 |
| Dad's intake. |
Nearer to home, Dad could tell fun stories about his time in CMT in 1952. Seemed to involve a lot of drinking. Oh, and fun with the Korean soldiers. As a kid, I always thought he meant Korean Koreans, rather than New Zealand soldiers heading to the Korean WAR .
When I met my half-brother, we found out that he was a navy boy. Ex, at that point. He was based in South-East Asia when I was born – and it wasn’t that quiet a place in 1971. (Funny thing is, although he never met Uncle Al – they look alike and had the same rolling walk.)
This weekend my nephew* heads off to Singapore for three months. He’s in the navy. Go well. And come home safe to your wife and baby. May your relationship only strengthen during this time of separation. May your love grow deeper.
Arohanui.
*this nephew is a result of war. His mother is first-generation New Zealander of Dutch descendent. His Oma wanted to move somewhere that couldn’t be invaded. And there was this guy with glasshouse pieces ready to move to New Zealand .
Thursday, 14 April 2011
Thoughts for a Thursday: fashion
I know that seanfish would disagree that we're middle-aged... but when it comes to clothes shopping, I'm feeling decidely in-between.
I'm too old for some shops. Too young for other shops. Too dressy / business. Not funky enough. Too casual. Too poor. Too something.
Saw a fab pair of boots - the design is my name and all! - but $240... maybe not. Saw a great dress - $130. Hmmm... Also a no-go.
So - turning to the left or the right isn't really working at the moment. I'm in the middle, spinning around.
Such a whiney girl at the moment. But, there must be others out there who understand. Surely.
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Thoughts for a Thursday: Grandparents
Recently I've had a few conversations about grandparents, and their importance in people's lives. I think it's sad that most of my nieces and nephews only have one grandparent. Admittedly, she's a pretty cool grandmother to have. (Love you Mum!). I also feel sorry for those of my friends who didn't have close relationships with their grandparents.
Until I was about 3, I had one great-grandfather, three grandads, and two nanas. I don't remember my great-grandad. And I had very little to do with one of my grandads (actually my clearest memory related to him is of his funeral). And, one of my grandads died when I was nine. However, my memories of that time are pretty hazy, so I don't remember much of him, unfortunately.
The other Nana and Grandad lived in two different houses in my memory, and I don't remember much of the first one. Well, snippets. The second one was a unit in a set of pensioner units. That would be why there were toys to play with inside. (This Nana became known as the Toy Nana).
Although this set of grandparents were around longer, and I built stronger, more adult, relationships with them, as a child their house didn't have the same sense of freedom as the other. And, somehow, wasn't quite as child-friendly and welcoming - although to all appearances, it should have been.
The Biscuit Nana was a product of her time. She grew up before she should have, with adult responsibilities at a too young age, supporting her family. They were a non-demonstrative couple, but hugs and kisses were received and given when we visited. Nana worked most of her life. Unusually for her time, she learnt to drive, mostly because Grandad couldn't, as he had lost his eye in a workplace accident. She was strongly independent, in a quiet way. They struggled in the Depression, but held it together. She was only able to have two children, but accepted their in-laws, and had strong bonds with Nana's family. Nana was always a snazzy dresser, with great shoes. If only any of us had inherited her colouring: blue-black hair, with violet-blue eyes. Aunty Gwen got the eyes, and they are stunning.
[Every morning, Dad would ring his mum and they would talk and talk and talk. When Nana moved in with us (just for a short while before she died) every morning he'd put on his dressing gown, and sit at the end of his Mum's bed and they'd talk and talk and talk. The first morning after Nana's death, Dad rang his sister - at the same time he used to ring his mum - and said 'we're orphans'. It hit me then that, no matter how old you are, whether you were a grandparent or whatever, you will always be a child. And you will always need your Mum and Dad.]
Grandad was bedridden for most of my life, but he relished and cherished his grandchildren - we could do no wrong in his eyes. If you've ever wondered why I have two teaspoons of sugar in my drinks, you can blame him. I can remember staying with them, and Grandad bringing in my breakfast on a tray in the morning - breakfast in bed! He spoiled us - and part of it would be a glass of milk with two sugars. He also gave us money when we visited, for treats (I got 50 cents, my older siblings got less. Inflation guys!).
The Toy Nana and Grandad. It is hard to compare of course! And the fact they died when I was an adult changes your perspective. But, my Little Miss Matchy-Matchy traits come from this Nana, I'm sure of it. (Shoes, I can blame on both of them - and my mum). Again, independent woman. Oh, and she passed her organisation / volunteering / crafting propensity to her daughter, and hence to me.
Grandad was a gentle soul, giving and accepting. He had six children. It didn't matter to him who was the biological father - they were all his. To his dying day, he wished he knew who his biological father was. How does a man cope when he comes home from work one day, having left behind that morning his wife and infant daughter, and is greeted by two older daughters calling him dad? He adopts them legally but, more importantly, takes them as his - in his heart. The joy when he was reunited with his first daughter (from his first marriage) - after 58 years! - was just beautiful.
Do I miss them? Damn straight.
If the Biscuit Nana was alive, I could show her that the $400 she gave me to help buy textbooks in my first year at university (and that my inheritance from her paid my uni fees for the next two years of my BA) was worth it. That I didn't cost my dad a lot of money. That I used my degree to good effect. That I did it. (Until fairly recently, I'm the only one of my family - pretty sure both sides - with a degree.) We could talk cricket. And rugby. And league.
If Grandad C was alive (always Grandad Cxxxxxx - and Dad was just Grandad. No surname. That was his dad) I could ask for help with my garden. I could make him a cuppa.
If the Toy Nana was alive, I could show off my craft skills, and talk about our cats. I could ring up for cooking advice. And we could chat.
If Grandad F was alive we could talk about books. I could introduce him to some fabulous new children's books that have been published. He would have LOVED Harry Potter! We could complain about the fact that there's very few fantasy books published in large print.
If they were alive I would cherish them, as I might not have done while they were alive. I was too young, in some instances, to do so. I would love them. I would show them that the lessons they passed on - intentionally or not - have been heeded.
At nearly 40 I have learned that you always need your grandparents. That they are some of the most valuable people in your lives. If yours are still alive - and, if you really love them - tell them. Now.
If you are grandparentless - think about what they mean to you. And think it into the universe.
We know they're listening. Why should death stop them from keeping an eye on us?
Nothing will stop that love.
Until I was about 3, I had one great-grandfather, three grandads, and two nanas. I don't remember my great-grandad. And I had very little to do with one of my grandads (actually my clearest memory related to him is of his funeral). And, one of my grandads died when I was nine. However, my memories of that time are pretty hazy, so I don't remember much of him, unfortunately.
What I do remember of that house was the freedom. This was the house where kids - in my case, kid, singular - were expected to entertain themselves while the adults caught up and talked about adult things. I was brought in for food and drink (the biscuit tin was always full - sultana pasties, hundreds & thousand biscuits, in particular, where much prized. And, somehow, the sachet drink at Nana's always tasted different from anywhere else. This Nana became the Biscuit Nana). This house had a magic table (my older siblings called it Aslan's Table). It had a garden that was free range. I could pick and eat pretty much anything. The rules were unspoken, but clear. It was magic. (These are my Dad's parents.)
The other Nana and Grandad lived in two different houses in my memory, and I don't remember much of the first one. Well, snippets. The second one was a unit in a set of pensioner units. That would be why there were toys to play with inside. (This Nana became known as the Toy Nana). Although this set of grandparents were around longer, and I built stronger, more adult, relationships with them, as a child their house didn't have the same sense of freedom as the other. And, somehow, wasn't quite as child-friendly and welcoming - although to all appearances, it should have been.
The Biscuit Nana was a product of her time. She grew up before she should have, with adult responsibilities at a too young age, supporting her family. They were a non-demonstrative couple, but hugs and kisses were received and given when we visited. Nana worked most of her life. Unusually for her time, she learnt to drive, mostly because Grandad couldn't, as he had lost his eye in a workplace accident. She was strongly independent, in a quiet way. They struggled in the Depression, but held it together. She was only able to have two children, but accepted their in-laws, and had strong bonds with Nana's family. Nana was always a snazzy dresser, with great shoes. If only any of us had inherited her colouring: blue-black hair, with violet-blue eyes. Aunty Gwen got the eyes, and they are stunning.
[Every morning, Dad would ring his mum and they would talk and talk and talk. When Nana moved in with us (just for a short while before she died) every morning he'd put on his dressing gown, and sit at the end of his Mum's bed and they'd talk and talk and talk. The first morning after Nana's death, Dad rang his sister - at the same time he used to ring his mum - and said 'we're orphans'. It hit me then that, no matter how old you are, whether you were a grandparent or whatever, you will always be a child. And you will always need your Mum and Dad.]
Grandad was bedridden for most of my life, but he relished and cherished his grandchildren - we could do no wrong in his eyes. If you've ever wondered why I have two teaspoons of sugar in my drinks, you can blame him. I can remember staying with them, and Grandad bringing in my breakfast on a tray in the morning - breakfast in bed! He spoiled us - and part of it would be a glass of milk with two sugars. He also gave us money when we visited, for treats (I got 50 cents, my older siblings got less. Inflation guys!).
The Toy Nana and Grandad. It is hard to compare of course! And the fact they died when I was an adult changes your perspective. But, my Little Miss Matchy-Matchy traits come from this Nana, I'm sure of it. (Shoes, I can blame on both of them - and my mum). Again, independent woman. Oh, and she passed her organisation / volunteering / crafting propensity to her daughter, and hence to me.
Grandad was a gentle soul, giving and accepting. He had six children. It didn't matter to him who was the biological father - they were all his. To his dying day, he wished he knew who his biological father was. How does a man cope when he comes home from work one day, having left behind that morning his wife and infant daughter, and is greeted by two older daughters calling him dad? He adopts them legally but, more importantly, takes them as his - in his heart. The joy when he was reunited with his first daughter (from his first marriage) - after 58 years! - was just beautiful.
Do I miss them? Damn straight.
If the Biscuit Nana was alive, I could show her that the $400 she gave me to help buy textbooks in my first year at university (and that my inheritance from her paid my uni fees for the next two years of my BA) was worth it. That I didn't cost my dad a lot of money. That I used my degree to good effect. That I did it. (Until fairly recently, I'm the only one of my family - pretty sure both sides - with a degree.) We could talk cricket. And rugby. And league.
If Grandad C was alive (always Grandad Cxxxxxx - and Dad was just Grandad. No surname. That was his dad) I could ask for help with my garden. I could make him a cuppa.
If the Toy Nana was alive, I could show off my craft skills, and talk about our cats. I could ring up for cooking advice. And we could chat.
If Grandad F was alive we could talk about books. I could introduce him to some fabulous new children's books that have been published. He would have LOVED Harry Potter! We could complain about the fact that there's very few fantasy books published in large print.
If they were alive I would cherish them, as I might not have done while they were alive. I was too young, in some instances, to do so. I would love them. I would show them that the lessons they passed on - intentionally or not - have been heeded.
At nearly 40 I have learned that you always need your grandparents. That they are some of the most valuable people in your lives. If yours are still alive - and, if you really love them - tell them. Now.
If you are grandparentless - think about what they mean to you. And think it into the universe.
We know they're listening. Why should death stop them from keeping an eye on us?
Nothing will stop that love.
Thursday, 31 March 2011
Waiting impatiently
'Fear me. I've killed hundreds of Time Lords'
'Fear me. I've killed all of them.'
'Fear me. I've killed all of them.'
Thoughts on a Thursday: Hateful words
There are two words – usually used together – that I think are the most hateful words in our language.
Us
Them
Think about it.
Creating - manufacturing - differences between anyone sets up opportunities for abuse. For hatred. For paranoia. For misunderstandings.
I don’t mean we have to all be exactly the same – I’m not advocating a melting point of sameness. Let’s celebrate the good things about our differences. Enjoy the colour and the vibrancy. But…
Us
Them
These are the words that lead to bigotry and genocide.
However we think of ‘them’, whoever ‘they’ are they are ‘other’. And ‘other’ usually has negative meanings.
Sometimes these words are implied. Sometimes they are implicit. And they are insidious. They sneak into your thoughts and your speech without realising.
All I ask is that we think about it. Maybe then we’ll have understanding and acceptance and joy.
Us
Them
Think about it.
Creating - manufacturing - differences between anyone sets up opportunities for abuse. For hatred. For paranoia. For misunderstandings.
I don’t mean we have to all be exactly the same – I’m not advocating a melting point of sameness. Let’s celebrate the good things about our differences. Enjoy the colour and the vibrancy. But…
Us
Them
These are the words that lead to bigotry and genocide.
However we think of ‘them’, whoever ‘they’ are they are ‘other’. And ‘other’ usually has negative meanings.
Sometimes these words are implied. Sometimes they are implicit. And they are insidious. They sneak into your thoughts and your speech without realising.
All I ask is that we think about it. Maybe then we’ll have understanding and acceptance and joy.
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Words have no meaning
What can we say? For those in Christchurch, we are thinking of you, our hearts are with you.
Friday, 11 February 2011
Favourite things Friday: Masco
I've talked about Masco before -m the value of specialist shops, and why we should support them.
Last week, the lesson was brought home to me.
Before Christmas I'd dropped in to show all the socks off and Masco Lady mentioned how nice it was to see a complete pattern for some of the yarn. The swatches they get don't always show that. So, I dropped off coloured photos, with yarn type specified, of the socks I'd knitted, so they could use them as a reference.
Last week, I dropped in to Masco during my lunch break - it was the in-between pay week, so no money to spend - but I'd just finished a pair of socks made with yarn they'd just brought in recently. And Masco Lady told me that if I saw her, or Masco Man, I would get a discount of my sock wool, to say thank you. Because I'm a good customer. I buy my wool from them (it's a rare month when I'm not down there :)), I show them what the yarn looks like when it's made, and I gave them the photos once I realised it would help.
Yep. Small, specialist shops - the kind you can built a relationship with - rock.
And, it's one of the things I really miss working in a big central library - that lack of community and regulars. The ones you put things aside for, when they come in, or put requests in for. Or ask about their families. You know the ones. (They're also the ones who make you goodies at Christmas.) I miss that.
Last week, the lesson was brought home to me.
Before Christmas I'd dropped in to show all the socks off and Masco Lady mentioned how nice it was to see a complete pattern for some of the yarn. The swatches they get don't always show that. So, I dropped off coloured photos, with yarn type specified, of the socks I'd knitted, so they could use them as a reference.
Last week, I dropped in to Masco during my lunch break - it was the in-between pay week, so no money to spend - but I'd just finished a pair of socks made with yarn they'd just brought in recently. And Masco Lady told me that if I saw her, or Masco Man, I would get a discount of my sock wool, to say thank you. Because I'm a good customer. I buy my wool from them (it's a rare month when I'm not down there :)), I show them what the yarn looks like when it's made, and I gave them the photos once I realised it would help.
Yep. Small, specialist shops - the kind you can built a relationship with - rock.
And, it's one of the things I really miss working in a big central library - that lack of community and regulars. The ones you put things aside for, when they come in, or put requests in for. Or ask about their families. You know the ones. (They're also the ones who make you goodies at Christmas.) I miss that.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Thoughts for a Thursday: teamwork
I've posted about my work place before - he tangata, he tangata, he tangata.
Today we said goodbye to a team mate - she is moving on to better and greater things - long-term dream type stuff. And who are we to stop that. We can still be sad, tho!
I've been in the organisation for 15 years now, in a few teams - and stayed at one desk, through 3 job titles, 2 team leaders, various other reorganisations around me. My team has merged with others, separated out, merged with others...
And, all the while - I've worked with some pretty great people.
I've been a smoker for many of these years - making my social connection at work larger than many. There's always people from other teams you meet in the smokers' area, wherever it is. (Same holds true at conferences / meetings, etc.)
People have come and gone. Some keep in touch. Some don't. Facebook helps. Outside organisations help. Effort helps.
Now, paying bills is a major reason for going to work. But, so are the people I get to hang out with while there.
As always... he tangata. He tangata. He tangata.
Today we said goodbye to a team mate - she is moving on to better and greater things - long-term dream type stuff. And who are we to stop that. We can still be sad, tho!
I've been in the organisation for 15 years now, in a few teams - and stayed at one desk, through 3 job titles, 2 team leaders, various other reorganisations around me. My team has merged with others, separated out, merged with others...
And, all the while - I've worked with some pretty great people.
I've been a smoker for many of these years - making my social connection at work larger than many. There's always people from other teams you meet in the smokers' area, wherever it is. (Same holds true at conferences / meetings, etc.)
People have come and gone. Some keep in touch. Some don't. Facebook helps. Outside organisations help. Effort helps.
Now, paying bills is a major reason for going to work. But, so are the people I get to hang out with while there.
As always... he tangata. He tangata. He tangata.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Cat-urday: full moon?
Nice... get where this LOLcat is coming from...
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Now - you can take that to mean myself, or the customers. Or both. Take your pick :)
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Now - you can take that to mean myself, or the customers. Or both. Take your pick :)
Friday, 28 January 2011
Hi again...
Spot the person too busy at work - with added paranoia about 'net acces at work - to post... Much as I love you guys, I really do not want to spend my time at home on the computer.
Anyhoo... this will be & a couple of my sisters in a few weeks time. How's that for family bonding?!?
Anyhoo... this will be & a couple of my sisters in a few weeks time. How's that for family bonding?!?
Saturday, 15 January 2011
Monday, 10 January 2011
Monday musing... seeing through Monkey's new eyes
On New Year's Day I was lucky enough to go to the zoo with Monkey, her parents, her aunt, uncle, cousin and Nana. (By the way - great adult to child ratio there - 6 to 3!)
Anyway, Monkey's 16 months old now, and she's beginning to put things together. And, I saw one of those moments. When something she'd learnt in the abstract - or pictorial - came to life and she KNEW.
She's been learning animal noises (good job by her parents). So, we spent the day hearing various rahs, and oo-oo monkey noises as she identified animals. Sometimes - interesting choices: the siamang was called 'teddy' and the sealion 'shark' (said with relish - just how her dad says it). Not bad for 16 months, and entertaining thinking through her thought processes to identify unfamiliar animals through her worldview.
Her dad said 'look at the elephant' - but Burma was a bit blending in with the background, as she was towards the back of the enclosure, having a mud bath. But then she came closer. And, Monkey got it. 'Ella!' she said, very excitedly. 'Ella! Ella!' When she was standing, holding on to the fence railings, she was so excited, she was rocking back and foward, shaking the bars.
I apologise for the photos - and upcoming lack of them. Didn't check the batteries before I left. Idiot.
So, there's no photo of Monkey standing, face and hands pressed against the glass, looking at the cheetahs RIGHT THERE, saying 'rah'. Cuteness.
It made the zoo experience very cool. Not that the weather was cool at all!
Another aside - how do children recognise all those different things as 'ducky': eg plastic rubber duck toy, picture of said toy, real duck, picture of real duck, photo of real duck, duckling... The human brain is an amazing thing.
Anyway, Monkey's 16 months old now, and she's beginning to put things together. And, I saw one of those moments. When something she'd learnt in the abstract - or pictorial - came to life and she KNEW.
She's been learning animal noises (good job by her parents). So, we spent the day hearing various rahs, and oo-oo monkey noises as she identified animals. Sometimes - interesting choices: the siamang was called 'teddy' and the sealion 'shark' (said with relish - just how her dad says it). Not bad for 16 months, and entertaining thinking through her thought processes to identify unfamiliar animals through her worldview.
Her dad said 'look at the elephant' - but Burma was a bit blending in with the background, as she was towards the back of the enclosure, having a mud bath. But then she came closer. And, Monkey got it. 'Ella!' she said, very excitedly. 'Ella! Ella!' When she was standing, holding on to the fence railings, she was so excited, she was rocking back and foward, shaking the bars.
So, there's no photo of Monkey standing, face and hands pressed against the glass, looking at the cheetahs RIGHT THERE, saying 'rah'. Cuteness.
It made the zoo experience very cool. Not that the weather was cool at all!
Another aside - how do children recognise all those different things as 'ducky': eg plastic rubber duck toy, picture of said toy, real duck, picture of real duck, photo of real duck, duckling... The human brain is an amazing thing.
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