paper lantern bookcase

I have finally taken down my Christmas fairy lights from the bookcase and replaced them with these paper lanterns. Oh..and that copy of a A Suitable Boy you can see there...no...I have never managed to finish it.

Welcome to university

I am sitting quietly at the computer drinking my morning green tea. This is in preparation for the onslaught of new students that await me when I get to work. Today is our first Orientation Day of the new year. We have 84 new preparatory students starting the program on Feb 28. Before they start classes I do two days of Orientation with them. Today is a lot of talking...about uni, about the program, about themselves, to each other, from me. There is also cake for morning tea, a wander around the campus to make sure they don't get lost and a visit from past students for a chat. Then we finish the day talking about positive thinking, planning and time management and send them on their merry way until next Friday. This year our ages range from 18 up to the mid 70s and our classes are full to bursting. There are lots of nerves and excitement on the first morning. Some students have given up full time work to start uni. Others are leaving families at home for the first time in many years, while some are going to meet more people in one day than they might have in the last year. While I have spent the last week whining about all the administrative, preparation tasks that need to be done to get to today, by the end of it I will have remembered, as usual, why I like my job.
The program I work in is a preparatory program that has a foundation of opportunity, and a belief in the transformative force of education. I have seen this force in action over many years now and it's a privilege to be part of it.

full of beans

I have started a new piano student this year...the younger brother of a delightful girl who I have been teaching since last year. This afternoon as I left work I wasn't particularly enthused for my regular Wednesday piano lessons. I had spent the day, filing, checking class lists, filing, answering the phone and email, and going to meetings. In other words, it had been a less than enlightening day. Quite frankly, I was more ready for a nap than for teaching the piano. But then, in bounced this enthusiastic 8 year old, full of beans, ready to practise his songs for the eisteddfod. Last week we had talked about breathing - where to breathe, how long to hold different words for and other bits and pieces. He had clearly spent the week singing and working on his breathing. And then he couldn't wait to show me how far ahead he had worked through his piano book. He had spent most of last year listening to his big sister play, and with an ability to play by ear we skipped the "baby" stuff in the front of the book and raced through to starting to read the notes around middle C on the staff. Homework last week was Old MacDonald. This week we are all the way up to Yankee Doodle - two hands, treble and bass clef, using all five fingers on both hands. It was an absolutely delightful half hour lesson and reminder of how quickly time passes when you are doing something you enjoy.

no Messiah..just some shopping

So I flew to Brisbane Friday lunchtime and flew back to the Bundaberg this morning. There was a cheap flight sale at the end of last year and it fitted beautifully with the plans the Jinxster and I had made to book for Jesus Christ Superstar by Harvest Rain at QPAC. We stayed with Anne M and had bought her a ticket as well. I was excited because the production looked really good. Sadly, in between our bookings Brisbane flooded and QPAC had to shift the JC Superstar season to June. That left us with our cheap plane tickets so we decided to go anyway. After an hour delay leaving Bundaberg we arrived in Brisbane around 2 on Friday afternoon. The lovely Anne drove us to Portside at Hamilton where shared a yummy vege pizza and then wandered past all the posh shops. One of them was having a big big sale. I bought my sister a white cotton embroidered skirt marked down from about 90 dollars to TEN. Even if it doesn't fit her I didn't care. And then I found a floaty dress for myself that was forty dollars instead of about 120! Then we watched some Ascot/Clayfield rich ladies pay exorbitant amounts for clothing at full price.

Saturday morning we ventured to the south side to Carindale. This is one of the few Westfields in Brisbane that I have never been to. The most striking feature was the carpeted floor. We met a friend of Anne and Jinx's for morning tea at The Shingle Inn. I had green tea and passionfruit cupcake. It's definitely not like the original Shingle Inn that used to be in the city. It was always such a treat going there. Still, it was very acceptable. While they sat and chatted I took myself on a whirlwind tour of the sales. I found myself a string of paper lanterns. It's probably time that I took down my Christmas fairy lights from the bookshelf so I will replace them with the lanterns instead. I also found some bargain cool cotton tops in Tree of Life - 11 dollars each - that I can wear with all my skirts. I also found a great dark green shoulder bag that was only 15 bucks. I am using it already. Then I headed for Sussan's for their summer sale items. I was less than impressed with the manager who seemed to be berating one of the retail assistants in front of the whole shop in a unnecessarily loud voice. Still, I found a long blue swirly skirt (marked down), a new nightie, (marked down), and a new summer dressing gown (also marked down). The last item is the most exciting really. Since 1999 I have been wearing a summer dressing gown that I also bought as Sussan's and haven't found a better one since. It's lasted remarkably well and seen me through many years. I will keep it but try this new one. I also bought my mother some soap from Crabtree and Evelyn as she has been on cat duty...and my father, who adores kitchen gadgets is getting his very own jarkey.

Saturday afternoon Anne and I had planned to go to Chermside as I am nearly out of my T2 Green Vanilla tea. I only get to buy it in Brisbane. Unfortunately, she had to pick her mother up from the airport after she had been in Sydney for two weeks. When they got to her house they discovered the power had tripped some days ago and two huge fridges and a double freezer were filled with rotting food. So Anne got to spend the afternoon cleaning them out and I had a little nap. I don't know what I am going to do in the next week or two when my tea runs out. I have a cup every morning and it's the highlight of breakfast time. Saturday night, my good brother came over and we went for dinner at a yummy Thai place on Racecourse Road, followed by some gelati. Dear Kate, his wife, couldn't make it as she had worked all day and had a big headache. She had to work again today.

This morning our flight left at 8:50. Qantas check-in was madness. Luckily for us we had done our online check in the night before. However there was some last minute drama when at 8:20, after Anne had dropped us off, I looked in my bag and discovered I hadn't picked up my phone and charger from the bedroom. So Anne, wonder that she is, drove back to the airport again and I met her out the front and grabbed my phone. Luckily she only lives about 5-10 minutes from airport. Phew, that was close. How would I have survived without my phone?

Dear Keef

Dear Keef

I feel I should write and explain my inability to finish your autobiography. I began it with high hopes. I had recently finished Paul Kelly's wonderful memoir and thought that perhaps your book would extend my reading into a roll of musical non-fiction. Unfortunately, while the early parts of the book were very interesting in the tales of your young life, I found myself bogged down and bored in the endlessly intricate tales of drug taking high jinks. I thought I might be able to power on through so I could read about how Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean is based on you, but in the end I simply couldn't be bothered, so I just flicked through to glossy pictures. Please don't misunderstand though, I was struck by your musicality and fine geetar playing in Martin Scorsese's documentary (and that's a compliment because I am, in essence, a "Beatles" person), and I am constantly impressed by the fact that you are still alive, growing old disgracefully in the very best of ways. I just don't want to finish your book.

No hard feelings I'm sure

Best
Wendy

Laden with books

Yesterday morning I went to our local book sale and in the above photo you can see the results of my restrained purchasing. For instance I didn't even look at the fiction tables. Instead I confined my browsing to non-fiction, and a feeble attempt to get to the dvd/cd table where buyers were intent on not letting anyone get anywhere near the offerings. I did manage the reach in and grab a copy of Spellbound from under their noses. Other than that I spent about 15 dollars and picked up two books on grammar - one old, one new - Hazel Rowley's biography of Christina Stead (in hardcover), a biography of Lewis Carroll, the major works of Swift, something called The Bronte Myth, A Roland Barthes reader, the Collected poems of Garcia Lorca and something called The Faber book of Pop which looked chock full of fascinating essays. I also found a huge book of piano music that I already own, but it was sitting all lonely on the random junk table for only 6 dollars so I had to buy that too. Sadly, I had not adequately prepared for secondhand book buying so at that point I had to stop as I couldn't physically carry anything else. Next time I shall take some bags for today my arms are hurting.

We did indeed remove our coats

I can't quite believe it's two Sundays since the Tasmanian holiday ended. The beautiful weather on the final morning made it all the more difficult to fly back to soggy, humid old Queensland. Out of the 300 photos I took during the ten days I have whittled it down to these few to share here at The Spiralling Shape:



Here's me...looking windswept and interesting (with apologies to Billy Connolly) against a background of the clear waters of Abel's Bay.


The sun shone brightly with all its might through the tall trees. We did indeed remove our coats.


I came over all arty with the camera angle, but just look at that shining water.


Here's my lil sis waiting to feed the local duck...Mr Curly. He is highly attuned to the rustle of a plastic bread packet.


I love this tree. It reminds me of someone standing on one leg.

And that my friends, as another famous Tasmanian says "is your blooming lot". The many photos of bushwalks, markets, mountains, barbeques in the freezing cold and folk festivals shall remain on my computer for now.

Deactivated

It's official. As of yesterday morning at around this time I have joined the ranks of the deactivated. Shock, horror, gasp. I know...it's a wild and crazy move to leave Facebook but my dissatisfaction with it has been building for some time and yesterday morning I pulled the pin.

Have I missed it in the last 24 hours? Good question. The answer is...only in the sense that it had become an addictive part of my morning internet routine. Example:

First login to my computer used to go something like this....Read the National News, Read the local news (both through ABC sites), check lolcats (absolutely essential), login to Facebook, click "Most Recent" instead of the annoyingly non-chronological "Top News", read what happened overnight, a few posts of links, some status updates, oh look someone has posted 200 photos, well I'm not wasting my downloads looking at them all, try to think of something witty for a status update, usually fail, quietly despair at the new layout, logout. Then I would move to twitter which is far more interesting, quick to read and usually very informative about all manner of things - news, world events, where the best coffee is in various cities, how much people love bacon etc. These are all things I am interested in too. Finally I would do a quick zip into youtube, ebay, and my work email, before continuing on with my morning.

Now I am the first to admit I was not the perfect Facebook user. I too annoyed my friends with pictures of lolcats, youtube videos and many many photos....but lately I had lost interest even in doing that. It was soon after I went to see The Social Network. Are these two happenings connected? Maybe, maybe not. It did prompt me to examine exactly what I was getting out of Facebook, as well as what Facebook was getting out of me. I read a few articles about privacy. I spent lots of time fiddling around with my privacy settings, dividing friends into lists, making sure my posts were appropriate, worrying that the privacy settings were a great big FB scam and weren't actually working, meaning my work colleagues could read how much I disliked my job somedays. I decided in the end then that this wasn't the ideal platform for me.

Who knows...one day I might return. I'm not ruling it out. But it is long past time for a trial separation.

Hello February

Hey...February...hi..over here..it's me..Wendy...at the Spiralling Shape. I know you're quite busy what with monstrous tropical cyclones and political uprisings in Egypt etc but I wonder if we might take five minutes for quick chat?

Thanks.

I'll be quick. Let's begin by looking back at January shall we? I think we both would agree that it was a little bit icky. Apart from the ten days in Tasmania, there were natural disasters, death, funerals, heartache and an almost complete disillusionment with my job. It would be wonderful if you could see your way clear not to try and "top" these lowlights, but rather to improve, to be the best month you can possibly be, not just for me but for everyone. On this shiny new first of the month you are full of potential to bring joy and sunniness into our lives. Take up the challenge February and you might just surprise yourself

I'd really appreciate it.
Thanks for your time

Sincerely
Wendy

Running for the red light

My first post for 2011 is not particularly cheery. For those of you who read this and either 1. don't know me in person 2. aren't my friend on fb 3. don't follow me on twitter....you may not know that my dear Nana (my Dad's mum) passed away after a severe heart attack on New Year's Eve. She never regained consciousness, which was a blessing, and the difficult decision was made to turn off her life support on January 4. As such the Davis clan in Bundaberg are arising early tomorrow morning to get the train to Brisbane for her funeral on Tuesday afternoon.

My Nana (not to be confused with my Grandma who is still with us) was a barrel of energy, laughs, and delight all the years I had known her. She is survived by her husband, Bob who will be 90 at the end of January. She had already planned a big party for him, bought herself a new red dress, him a red tie, sent out the invitations, and was looking forward to the celebrations. I spoke to her on Christmas Day where she was her normal cheery self, looking forward to spending the day with her sons and their families at the Gold Coast.

In recent years I haven't seen Nana as much. And despite the fact that I am getting older, she never failed to ring me on my birthday and send a card with some money sticky taped inside (you just never know...those pesky postmen) that would be timed to arrive as close to, if not, on the day. When I was smaller, birthdays would be met with a brown paper parcel that appeared to have been stuck together with an entire roll of sticky tape. Same thing...it needed to survive the journey from Brisbane to the Gold Coast intact. Never mind, that we had to attack it severely with a pair of scissors to let the contents escape.

Because we grew in Bundaberg, going to Brisbane on school holidays to visit Nana was a great treat. For one, Nana and Grandad lived in a Double Storey House at Macgregor. What is the significance of this? There were Stairs...a set at the front, and an internal staircase which were immense fun to run up and down. There was also a pool in the backyard, a pool table downstairs, lemonade iceblocks in the freezer, a dog called Penny and the beginnings of Sunnybank Shopping Town just up the road and round the corner. Grandad would take us for a walk where my brother and I would argue over whose turn it was to press the button to change the light to "Walk". In Bundaberg, there was at the time, no such fancy city technology. Then Grandad would jingle some change and buy us an ice cream. If we went shopping with Nana however, it was straight into KMart where she would keep an eagle eye out for the Red Light Specials. And when she heard one about to start, we would Run. Well it seemed like running to our little legs. She loved a bargain my Nana. Then we would go to Market Square and into Jack the Slasher, where more fun awaited - you could actually Write The Price on your groceries, and find your own box to pack them into. We also seemed to spend a fair amount of time in something called Dollar Curtains. For if there was one thing Nana was always doing..when she wasn't making biscuits, jams, relishes, meals etc...it was sewing, knitting, crocheting and any other type of handicraft that she would then give away as gifts, sell at a church fete, or give to us as birthday presents. Somewhere in my mother's house is a box of doilies with my name on them. I don't like doilies at all, but I will keep them. I also have a full crocheted bedspread that she made for me when I was about 10. It doesn't get used anymore, but it is in the blanket box my Grandad made for her when they were courting. The blanket box is my coffee table.

My Nana loved her family...immediate and extended. Reading her life story which she typed up a few years ago, she had a financially difficult childhood, left school in Year 8 after scholarship and started work at 14 in a corsetry factory in George Street Brisbane. She raised four sons and helped run a milk run where my Grandad would pick up milk from farms all the way down to Beenleigh and drive it into the Valley twice a day, seven days a week. This was just after the war. They worked hard and as such made a good life for themselves in later years.

On Friday I wrote her eulogy.

Her religious faith meant she was not afraid of death and that is comfort to me.

We will all miss her.