Category: Lyrics

Wonderful and Wild women

So I hear that all the ‘Stranger Things’ fans are just discovering Kate Bush. ‘Running up that Hill’ is trending and maybe they’re starting to explore her other songs.

‘Wuthering Heights’ is an all time classic for me, as is ‘Babooshka’. I mean, the video of her interpretive dance with the double bass? Damn sexy in my humble opinion. But also a bit … scary.

I have a memory of watching a documentary about her in a hotel room in Swindon of all places. It revealed that she was in her early teens when she penned ‘The man with the child in his eyes’, another favourite of mine.

And taught herself to play the piano. What an amazingly talented musician!

A wonderful and wild woman who I’d love to have seen perform live back in the day.

On reflection I’ve always been drawn to the music of wonderful and wild women. Like Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Bjerk, and Tori Amos.

All such talented musicians in different ways.

No chance of me watching the latest series of ‘Stranger Things’ though sorry.

That stuff is very scary!

Cheers to Covid.

Just like that it’s 2022!

Seriously, how fast did the last year fly by? Well it certainly seemed to for me.

Maybe that’s a middle-aged thing.

I’ve got a monster headache but it’s not from celebrating new year’s eve. The side effects of the Pfizer booster have hit and I’m feeling like an old car that has been left out in the paddock to rust.

In the words of the late great Leonard Cohen ‘I ache in the places where I used to play’ but it’s a small price to pay at the end of the day.

Right now I am so thankful and grateful for the silver linings that covid has brought for me.

I can hardly believe it’s been nearly two years since my milestone birthday celebration at the Cottesloe hotel!

Way back at the start of 2020 when covid was something I was only starting to hear about and didn’t think would impact my big birthday holiday.

In the past year I’ve gone from cruising to camping and can honestly say it’s been exactly what I needed to do.

Joining a car club and making new friends while heading off exploring amazing WA.

I’ve survived the heat, dust, dingoes, donkeys and flies, and days without running water and lived out of my car all with my best friend by my side.

Yes we’ve bickered and ranted and played the blame game, but ending a day by the side of a fire after watching the sun set has helped heal most wounds.

Covid is coming but we’re as prepared as we can be, both double dosed and boosted and trying to get used to accessorising with masks every time we leave home.

The bubble is set to burst at the start of February, but in the meantime another birthday is on the horizon and we’ve got one more car trip to complete.

Who’s with me?

#nofilter I am not okay

I have a guilty secret that I feel the need to share …

I have medically diagnosed Generalised Anxiety Disorder that keeps me awake at night, literally.

Along with seeing a psychologist, I have recently started taking medication to help manage my chronic insomnia. Lack of sleep is like a ‘truth serum’ for me, which also happens to be one of my favourite songs. It’s by Smog if you’re interested, Google it 😁

Some days it’s like I have too much to say and not enough time, and if get within earshot I’ll tell you what I really think about EVERYTHING 😃

But I digress, until now I have felt too ashamed or scared or … something to share my ‘guilty’ secret.

Like my cat who is not well, some days all it want to do is find somewhere cosy and hide away. The linen cupboard is her favourite comfy place at the moment. But I’m off topic again …

Why is it so hard to reveal and discuss mental illness?

I broke my ankle a couple of years ago and it was clear I was not ok because of the dirty black smelly ‘moon boot’ I had to wear for nearly two months. The lack of sleep and reactive gut, two symptoms of anxiety, caused me to lose a lot of weight and I keep being told I look fantastic but I can, hand on heart, say I have never felt worse.

On days like today when I’ve had a bad sleep I know I look like crap but it’s not like I have a sling or a cast or a moon boot to explain why. And until now I’ve done my best to soldier on and put on my ‘happy face’ and act like everything is okay.

But I am not okay and it feels better to share that with you so thanks for taking the time to read this.

And if you are interested Google Generalised Anxiety Disorder 😉

Blink and you’ll miss it

Blink, blink. HOSPITAL. SILENCE.

So begins a poem by Bruce Dawe written in the 1950s and studied by me in the 80s, a story of one man’s life, from birth until being buried.  The poem itself is a satirical look at modern society and its materialism, but for me it’s the idea of documenting what happens between the blink blink statements that really resonates.

Back at the start of this month I had the best of intentions to be here more. Here as in documenting my life journey and lessons for myself and anyone else who may be interested. Here as in being mindful and stopping to appreciate what I have instead of dwelling on what I don’t.

And now it is almost the end of January and I’ve been too busy doing to stop and document. Doing something different like flying to another country on the first day of the New Year to celebrate my birthday (Georgetown Penang, highly recommended). Doing more with my body including returning to the gym and making exercise part of my day instead of an afterthought, and finding a healthy balance between being more mindful about what I eat and drink to get myself back on track along with socialising and celebrating with friends and family.

In just over two months it will be the final countdown to our 10th cruise, which we will be flying to the other side of the world to join, and I can see the time between then and now just flying by in the same way that the past month has done.

In just under two years is another milestone birthday, a date already on the horizon with preliminary planning and discussions of if/how/where/when to celebrate/commisserate.

Not that I am complaining of course, life is a gift and all that. Just sometimes I need to remind myself of how much I have done with my life between the blinks and be more mindful of how much time I have left.

Blink, blink. CEMETERY. Silence.

 

My 25 Days Dry

Elton John on Instagram last week:

“25 years of sobriety today. One day at a time. #Gratitude #Happiness #Blessed #ShareTheLove”

Today is the third day of August, and three days ago I celebrated the end of my Dry July with a champagne toast.

In total I was officially ‘dry’ for 25 July days, received Golden Tickets to account for the other six and raised more than $300 for the Cancer Council WA.

Along the way I learnt some lessons about planning for and managing my alcohol consumption, and that I don’t need to have a few drinks to feel confident in social settings.

Unfortunately my plan to also lose excess kilos didn’t pan out; I need to overcome the urge to reward myself with food and drinks or find other ways to that won’t add to my calorie consumption.

Interesting to consider how insignificant my 25 days are when compared to the impressive 25 years by Elton John; imagine how hard it has been for him over the years in his social circle!

One day at a time is my plan from now one, but as for Dry July:

Let the records show, I took the blows, and did it My Way!

Hello Sunday Morning – My wish for a Dry July

Several years ago Chris Raine, a young Brisbane man who worked in advertising, was asked to come up with a proposal for a youth-oriented campaign against binge drinking.

Hello Sunday Morning: Chris Raine’s year off alcohol | Executive Living | The Australian

No I am not considering removing alcohol from my life altogether, but for a number of reasons I have decided to step up to the challenge of a Dry July.

Given I am at the tail-end of the demographic discussed in this story, as some of you already know I have more than enough ‘Stories of Me’ to share but instead of looking back with regret I have decided to make a positive step forward.

I’m kissing the booze goodbye for 31 days and raising money for Cancer Council WA to help them improve the wellbeing of adults
living with cancer.

Wish me luck!

#dryjuly
@dryjuly

First Day Blues

Well I did it, got out of bed before midday even though it felt like the middle of the night, put on my work face and made it to the office on time. Granted my day wasn’t terribly productive thanks to all the emails I had to read through and two catch-up meetings I attended, but it felt good to know I was missed and my return to work is valued.

So why do I now feel so flat?

The feeling started when I pulled down my holiday itinerary from the office wall, was reinforced after being asked about my personal highlight of the seven week holiday (seriously?), and set in with vengeance after my second cup of coffee.

The amazing holiday we planned and saved for and counted down the days to is really over, so apart from reading through my journal and blog, and revisiting the amazing places and faces in my mind there is nothing else on the horizon for me apart from work, friends and family for the rest of the year.

Don’t get me wrong, I like working and love spending time with my family and friends but that doesn’t stop me scrutinising every cruise email and travel website and fantasizing about a life where I get to work while I travel.

To paraphrase a Slim Dusty song my husband plays, ‘looking forward, looking back, I’ve come a long way down the track, got a long way left to go … making sense of what I’ve seen …’

Leaning forward to see what’s coming, the anticipation and excitement of venturing into the unknown, for me that’s a happy high that’s hard to beat.

A Little Too Ironic

Like rain on your wedding day, ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife, nurturing a souvenir in your hand luggage only to break it at home.

Yes, really.

The Legend of the Cock, about a man from Galacia who appeared in Barcelos on his way to Santiago De Compostela in Spain to fulfill a vow, condemned to death by hanging despite protesting his innocence to committing a crime, pointed to a roasted cockerel and exclaimed:

“As sure as I am innocent that cockerel will crow if I am hanged!”

You can see where this is going, and why the rooster is so embelic of Portugal, and how it was so special to buy one from Barcelos, the home of the legend, and not any number of tourist shops and even a service station when we were there.

In my haste to tidy up after sharing my suitcase stories and souvenirs I managed to drop this little cock, straight onto our tiled floor, also ironic given the status of tiling to Portugal as well.

A little too ironic.
Not happy Jan.