My Perfect Lasagne!

OK I know this isn’t my area really but I have been perfecting my low fat lasagne and I think I have it just right now and ready to share. This lasagne is perfect for kids because you can hide loads of vegies in there and it has a mild flavour. Plus it’s really healthy! The only thing I think you need to adjust is the amount of water you add. Depending on how you like it, you might want to add a bit more or less….. I make a big one then cut it into slices and freeze it. It is great for meals where you are short of time and just want to microwave something healthy! I can get about 8 meals out of this recipe so it's really cost effective too (eg cheap!)

Susie’s Lean Lasagne

Ingredients
500g Turkey Mince (very low fat, high protein)
6 mushrooms – chopped (they disappear into the meat mix!)
1 onion – chopped
1 red capscium – chopped (I like LOTS of red capsicum – mild sweet flavour with heaps of Vit C)
1 carrot – grated
1 zucchini – grated
1 tin crushed tomatoes (the no sugar kind)
1 tub tomato paste
½ teaspoon mixed herbs
1 eggplant sliced finely
1 tub low fat ricotta cheese
1 packet oven ready lasagne
1 packet light cheese slices (I used Bega Extra Vintage Tasty)
½ cup water

Method:

Saute chopped onion. Add turkey mince. Brown the mince then add capsicum, carrot, mushrooms, zucchini, tomatoes, tomato paste, herbs. Cook for about 30 mins.

In a lasagne pan layer other ingredients in this order.
Water
Small amount of the turkey mix
Lasagne sheets
Eggplant slices
Ricotta
Lasagne (press down firmly at this point)
Turkey mix
Top with cheese slices – slices work well because you get exact coverage and not too much cheese
Cover with foil and bake for 30mins in moderate to slow oven
Take the foil off and cook for a further 30 mins or so to brown the top
Cool. Slice into portion sizes and freeze.

Eureka!

I’m so excited.  I’ve always wanted to be an anthropologist and finally, I think I have a foot on the ladder!  I believe I have discovered a new sub species of human being, the Homo Erectus Sticky Beakious.

I’ve discovered these creatures most frequently take the physical form of a post menopausal woman.    They are not limited to this profile however my observations indicate that most are women with adult children and short memories.  They are most prevalent in shopping centres.  Early studies indicate they are drawn to locations where young mothers and their offspring can be found.

The defining feature of the Homo Erectus Sticky Beakious is their ability to locate, assess and quickly pass judgement on the parenting skills of young mothers as they attempt to carry out everyday activities with their children.  They communicate their displeasure by a variety of means.  These means include gestures (for instance head shaking and eye rolling) and vocalisation (tut tuts and scoffing).  The most commonly used form of communication is the stare or as we academics call it, the “skunk-eye”.

Allow me to illustrate a typical interaction.  A young mother exhausted and sleep deprived, rushes to the local supermarket in order to purchase groceries.  She has had approximately 4 hours sleep, (not 4 consecutive hours it should be noted).  She has been up since 5.30am.  Upon waking she prepared breakfast for her husband and two small children.  She has made beds, done a load of washing, quickly tidied the house, made a shopping list for the week’s meals, dressed both children and quickly dressed herself.  She has not had time to shower or apply makeup.  She has taken her older child to school and now has bundled her two year old into the pram to go shopping. 

She dreads this as her two year old dislikes shopping centres, prams and shopping trolleys.  The young mother has arrived in the shopping centre car park at 9.30am and eventually finds a parking spot.  She strains her back as she leans into the car to extricate the child from the car seat.  The child wriggles and screams as he/she is put into the pram.  The toddler has mastered running and does not take kindly to being contained in a pram.  The mother then walks swiftly to the supermarket, pushing the pram quickly in an effort to placate the child.  The toddler continues to scream and wriggle.  The mother enters the supermarket.  She then attempts to get the toddler from the pram into the trolley.  The child objects, loudly.

As the mother makes her way through the aisles, tossing items into the trolley as quickly as she can, the child continues to grizzle and whinge.  The mother becomes increasingly stressed as she knows that the toddler’s “nap time” is approaching and the line at the checkout is long.  She finally completes her shopping and joins the queue. 

It is at this time that the Homo Erectus Sticky Beakious will make its move. It stalks its prey and swoops.  As the toddler’s grizzling and complaining becomes louder, the Sticky Beakious will position itself in such a way that the mother cannot avoid its gaze.  There will be tut tutting and murmuring which is Sticky Beakious’s method for communicating the message “If that was my child...” or “In my day...” or “What that child needs is a good smack”.  The “skunk eye” may also be employed at this time. 

Should the toddler’s behaviour worsen, the Sticky Beakious will often resort to head shaking and “skunk-eying” in combination.   This will communicate the desired message that the young mother is doing a lousy job as a parent and that their child is out of control.  In most cases, the young mother is already harbouring fears.  The young mother leaves the supermarket in distress.  The Sticky Beakious’s work is done.  She will now continue to roam the centre looking for other victims before settling in for a nice Devonshire Tea at the Coffee Club with Beryl from the Bowling Club.

If the job in anthropology doesn’t work out, I might go into business for myself anyway.  I’m going to get these business cards printed up and sell them online for young mothers with lively toddlers.

So who is the bad guy?

I am a single Mum. I have a 9 year old daughter who I am raising alone. I get great support from my lovely Mum and some terrific friends but essentially I’m doing it alone. I left my marriage five years ago after years of abuse, both verbal and physical. Believe me, I didn’t envisage myself as a divorced, single parent at this stage of my life but here I am!

My ex-husband deeply resents the fact that I left our marriage. As members of a fundamentalist church community as we were, you just don’t get a divorce, ever, for better or for worse. Our marriage and its problems were well hidden from our friends and the leadership of the church until I left.

To this day, despite his remarriage, my ex-husband continues to verbally abuse me and blame me for the failure of our marriage. He pays the barest minimum child support, rarely sees our daughter and even when he plans to see her, often lets her down at the last minute.

So, I guess by now, some of you are thinking this is going to be another man-bashing rant about ex-husbands and how they are all bastards. Not so.

In fact, what I want to talk about is the way our society and the media talks about divorce, separation and children. What has bothered me immensely in recent years is the combative, gender-based approach that society and the media often seems to take with this issue.

The tabloid media often depicts the cliche “dead-beat dad”who won’t pay child support and is unreliable and irresponsible. How often have we seen a bloke being chased along the street by a reporter having loaded questions thrown at them about how they don’t pay child support? It’s not helpful and serves to perpetuate a gender based myth that heaps of guys are dead beats and women are all badly done by.

Then we see blokes climbing bridges and protesting about the way that fathers are treated by the court system. For a while, the media seems to pick up on this and we see stories about fathers who are prevented by the courts from seeing their kids and how difficult and obstructive ex-wives can be.

Often when people divorce they seek out others in a similar situation to talk to. Usually it will be a person of the same gender. I believe that often what happens is it turns into a gender bashing exercise. If you are a divorced Dad, you will have no trouble finding a bloke in a similar situation who wants to join you in a conversation about their bitch of an ex-wife and how she takes all his money and makes it impossible for him to see the kids. If you are a woman, you will find no shortage of women ready to tell you about their bastard ex-husband and how they won’t pay child support and how difficult they are to deal with.

It seems to me that this gender based, combative approach is entirely unhelpful. Yes, no doubt there are Dads who don’t pay child support. Some are violent and present a real danger to their kids. Equally, I know some Dads who are simply beautiful examples of caring, committed and responsible fathers. They do their very best to maintain routine, stability and show great unconditional love to their kids. I can think of three such men, straight off the top of my head!

My situation is sadly, not so ideal. The thing is, just because my ex behaves this way, doesn’t mean I paint every ex-husband and father with the same brush.

I know some women who do it very tough. They have very limited support; financial, emotional or physical. Their ex-husbands try to punish them through the children, using manipulation to put their own vindictive agendas ahead of the children’s best interest. I know some men who experience the very same thing, women preventing them from being able to see their children, being obstructive and difficult and bad mouthing them to their kids.

The thing is, it’s not just Dads who let their kids down. It’s Mums as well. We can’t generalise about who the bad guy is. Every situation is different. Every family is different. Every divorce or separation is different. Until we stop with the cliché“dead-beat dad” stuff or the “difficult ex-wife who makes my life a misery”stuff and put the kids first, we are never going to be able to give our kids what they need.

It’s not about gender. It’s about character, purely and simply.

I'm thinking of becoming Amish and I'm taking my 9 year old with me

I like to think of myself as being a “cool Mummy”. You know, one of those Mums who is up with the lingo (does calling it “lingo” instantly disqualify from the cool label I wonder?) 

I’m familiar with the latest technology. I have a Twitter account, a Facebook account and I use the internet daily for work. I am aware of the sort of stuff they play on Top 40 radio these days. I know all about the TV shows that kids are watching. I have a 9 year old daughter and I’ve tried to instil a certain savvy-ness in her about all these things.

We don’t listen to commercial radio in the car or at home. We don’t watch Video Hits. I choose not to promote the values expressed in a lot of this music to my daughter. She’s heard many of these songs from her peers and from friends. I know I can’t prevent her from hearing top 40 songs and seeing music videos in other places. My theory is, our home is our sanctuary and I make the rules and set the boundaries. I just hope that once she is out in the world she is able to make good choices about what is and is not worthwhile, healthy, sensible and valuable.

So you can imagine how I felt when my 9 year old daughter came home from the school disco last Friday night with a copy of a CD containing songs they had been dancing to like “Sexy and I Know It”, “Champagne Showers” and “Last Friday Night”.

Let me just highlight the two key aspects of that sentence “9 year old daughter” and “school disco”.

One of the songs “Sexy and I Know It” was played at the disco apparently and the children were encouraged to chant the chorus “Sexy and I Know It” by the school employed DJ. This choice tune includes the delightful lyrics:

I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it

I'm sexy and I know it

I'm sexy and I know it...

The children were then encouraged to “wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it”while chanting the lyrics.

Um, is it just me or is this a rather extraordinary contradiction in messages? On one hand, we are concerned about the sexualisation of young children in our society. We are trying to teach them safety on the internet, in the school yard and in the world in general. Then we are running a school function and encouraging them to dance and chant the words “I’m sexy and I know it”.

Another song which was played was “Last Friday Night” by Katy Perry. Katy Perry is a hugely successful singer and was recently the voice of “Smurfette” in “The Smurfs” movie. The kids love her. Here are some of the lyrics to this happy tune.

There's a stranger in my bed,

There's a pounding in my head

We went streaking in the park

Skinny dipping in the dark

Then had a menage a trois

Pictures of last night

Ended up online

I'm screwed

Oh well

It's a blacked out blur

But I'm pretty sure

It ruled

So hang on, my daughter is at a school function dancing to songs that say that “blacking out” from drinking “rules”? Hmmm. “What’s wrong with this picture?” I ask myself. “Everything” is the answer.

The song “Champagne Showers” has lyrics such as “flash your titties like mardi gras” and “walk out the party with a hottie or two”. If you think that is a little out of line for kids to be listening to, have a look at the music video. The words that come to mind are pornography, deeply offensive and misogynistic.

These days, kids go online and Google the lyrics to songs (not like in my day when you had to tape the song and listen to it over and over and try to decipher the words). They may not understand the deeper meaning of these songs but is that an excuse? It seems so in some people’s minds. When a parent asked the DJ at the school disco to stop playing these inappropriate songs he replied that “the kids love it and they don’t understand the words anyway”. Right! Great answer. Not.

Am I alone in feeling this way? Am I out of touch? Why are we not protecting our kids more from this sort of garbage? Don’t we want to give our kids a consistent message about personal safety, about respect, about treating people with dignity and behaving with dignity? How do songs that promote binge drinking and promiscuous sexual behaviour fit with our desire to raise happy, healthy kids? Isn’t that what we all want for our children? If so, why are we all just sitting back and letting this drivel infiltrate society and invade our kid’s mind?

I wrote to the principal of the school about the disco and the music content. She neatly hand-balled it to the P&C and I am yet to hear back. I’m not holding my breath. In the meantime, I’m considering becoming Amish.

Real Estate Agents are NOT your friends

I just recently moved.  My experience of Real Estate agents in the past year has lead to me to a cold, hard realisation.  Real Estate agents are NOT your friends.  They might have little girls cuddling teddy bears on their advertisements but don’t be fooled fellas.  Whether your child has a roof over their head is not exactly their highest priority.

Let me pre-empt this by telling you I am a renter.  I am one of the “good tenants”.  I pay my rent on time without fail.  I do most of my own repairs and I keep the place like it’s my own.  I don’t have noisy parties.  I don’t hang washing over the balcony.  I observe the recycling signs in the garbage area.  I park my car exactly where I’m told.  I am extremely co-operative when it comes time to inspect the property.  I smile and say hello to my neighbours.  I am not a serial mover.  I want to be settled and stay in one place.  Give me a 5 year lease and I will sign it happily.  So, if you watch A Current Affair or Today Tonight, I guess you would think I was one of the rare breed of “good tenants”.

So how am I rewarded for this?

Well let me tell you about my last place of residence being sold.  It began with assurances from the real estate agent who was slick and super friendly and had the firmest handshake I have ever experienced.

“Don’t worry; we can see what a great tenant you are.  We do 75% of the rentals in this area.  We’ll make sure you guys are ok.  We’ll find you somewhere before it even gets advertised! Now, is it ok if we show people through 5 times a week?”

Once you get an assurance like this from a real estate agent in this current rental climate, you feel so much better.  Of course you think, well, I’ll just show him what a good tenant I am! I’ll let him lead an endless trail of people through my place, morning, noon and night.  When he leaves the back door wide open after every inspection you think, better not complain, don’t want to rock the boat!  After all, he has given you a wink and a nod! He’ll look after you. He is your friend.  I almost expect he will arrive with a giant Mr Hooker teddy bear for my daughter next time he sees us!

No such luck.  He couldn’t sell the place and once he no longer had the property under contract he had no interest in us good tenant or not.  Being naive, I called him to let him know we were looking now for a place to live.  His response after I explained who I was (Shucks! I thought we were friends!)... “Yeah, nah there isn’t much around at the moment. Why don’t you look in the local paper or on the internet?” Such valuable advice.  Thanks Ken.

Then we met the next agent.  This guy seemed to be a younger version of the first guy, slick, friendly, firm handshake and so grateful for the access and the fact that I kept the place spotless.  I got the same “Oh don’t worry, if you have to move we’ll look after you! You are obviously a great tenant!”  It certainly helped that I kept the place spotless when he would ring me at 4pm to say he had someone who wanted to see the place at 5pm that day.  Inconvenient? Noooo. That’s totally fine.  My daughter can do her homework in the backseat of our car while you traipse through the house for the third time this week with people who will walk mud through my place, sticky beak in my cupboards and even use the loo and not flush.  True story.

Anyway, in the end the house sold and we were informed we had to move.  Then I joined the throng of poor Sydney renters looking for a place to live.  Rocking up to open houses only to find that the photos on the internet were doctored up to make places look bigger, cleaner and brighter was a demoralising experience.  Competing with other applicants to pay $500 plus a week to live in a tiny, dark hole was even more demoralising.  Ringing agents and never getting a call back and applying for properties and then getting jerked around for a week before being told you missed out was par for the course for me for a while.

It became apparent to me that real estate agents treat most renters with contempt.  It was humbling to stand in the street waiting to see a place you suspected was already way overpriced with 20 other groups of people, all jostling and pushing to get in first., then to stand back and watch when people actually bid more than the advertised price while you are standing there filling out your application.

And then it happened.  I found the place I knew we wanted.  And I found Rebecca, our agent.  She treated us kindly and fairly and professionally.  She was honest.  She answered my calls and emails.  She did exactly what she said she would do when she said she would.  The day we moved in there was even a “Welcome Pack” on the counter.   It was so refreshing to discover that not every real estate agent is a jerk. Some tell the truth. They don’t all treat you like a low life simply because you rent.  So for now, I’m off the renting roundabout.  It’s nice to know where we are going to live for another year.  We are happy and settled.  Only thing is, Rebecca hasn’t bought my daughter a giant teddy bear yet....the day she does is the day I will start to worry.

I'm a lip balm addict and I don't care who knows

For as long as I can remember I have had a lip balm addiction.  Laugh you may, but for me it is deadly serious.  If I find myself out without my lip balm, I panic.  I reapply it countless times a day.  I have about a dozen tubes scattered around the house and in my handbag.

You know how they have those quiz things where they ask you which beauty item you would take if you were stuck on a desert island? Lip Balm, back- up lip balm and then fall-back lip balm would be my choice.  I simply couldn’t live without it.  I can’t sleep without it.  If I wake up in the night I reapply.   It’s a sickness I know....

Over the years people have told me that it’s all in my head and that it’s not possible to get addicted to balm.  Turns out, not true! 

Perry Romanowski is a cosmetic chemist and has written a book called Can You Get Hooked on Lip Balm?  He says that the addiction many people joke about may actually be real!

"You can't get addicted to lip balm in the way you can get addicted to cigarettes, he said. "That's actually a chemical addiction that affects your brain."

But Romanowski said applying (and re-applying) a layer of gloss can certainly be habit-forming.

Romanowski said the lower layers of the skin produce fresh, new skin cells that die and can dry out by the time they reach the top layer.

"When you put the lip balm on the dry skin, what that does is interfere with the signalling mechanism that signals to the lower cells to start producing more," he said.

"Using lip balm, while it makes your lips feel good initially, when it wears off your skin feels dry again and your skin doesn't have time to replenish that." So you apply more lip balm. And when that wears off, you apply more. And more.

And more! "And so in that way you can get 'addicted'; it becomes sort of a psychological habit."

So now I guess the question remaining is, is it too late for me to change?  Could I stand trying to give up?  Is there a Betty Ford Clinic for lip balm addicts?  How much lip balm and I ingesting every year I wonder?  Should I have it written into my will that in the event of me being incapacitated that someone is to be employed to put lip balm on me every two hours?  Anyway, I’ll sign off now. Must reapply.....

I blinked and it was November.....

Well, here I am. Back again. I have just spent the last month or so in the midst of the fog known as "moving house". 

I'm not going to lie to you. It wasn't fun. I'm not the kind of person that copes well with being disorganised.  Having everything in boxes and all over the place messes with my head!

But I'm sorted now and hopefully I'll be posting a bit more now....

Winter Flab

There can be no denying I have gained a few kilos over the last month or so.  Cold nights and I renewed love of crumpets have led to my middle resembling the top of a crumpet.

So I've decided to do something about it.  I'm going to start wearing this around the house...

And I will be wearing these under my work clothes...

Whistling Dude - I'm talking to you

When it Don't Come Easy - Patty Griffin

"When It Don't Come Easy"

Red lights are flashing on the highway

I wonder if we're gonna ever get home

I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight

Everywhere the waters getting rough

Your best intentions may not be enough

I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight

But if you break down

I'll drive out and find you

If you forget my love

I'll try to remind you

And stay by you when it don't come easy

I don't know nothing except change will come

Year after year what we do is undone

Time keeps moving from a crawl to a run

I wonder if we're gonna ever get home

You're out there walking down a highway

And all of the signs got blown away

Sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrong direction

But if you break down

I'll drive out and find you

If you forget my love

I'll try to remind you

And stay by you when it don't come easy

So many things that I had before

That don't matter to me now

Tonight I cry for the love that I've lost

And the love I've never found

When the last bird falls

And the last siren sounds

Someone will say what's been said before

Some love we were looking for

But if you break down

I'll drive out and find you

If you forget my love

I'll try to remind you

And stay by you when it don't come easy

Too true to be funny

Jonty Bush on Australian Story

Last Monday night’s episode of Australian Story was particularly inspiring.  It dealt with the story of Jonty Bush who was named 2009 Young Australian of the Year.  It’s a complex story.  Jonty’s sister, who was the mother of a young child, was viciously murdered by a boyfriend.  Then not long after, her father died after being punched by a member of her sister’s child’s family. 

“Queenslander Jonty Bush showed inspirational courage and strength after senseless violence brought tragedy to her family. When Jonty was twenty-one her younger sister was murdered and a few months later her father died after being punched in an unprovoked attack. Jonty chose to deal with her grief proactively and joined the Queensland Homicide Victim’s Support Group as a volunteer. Her compassion for other victims and commitment to justice eventually led to her appointment as Chief Executive Officer of the organisation. After her father’s attacker was acquitted of manslaughter, Jonty pioneered the successful ‘One Punch Can Kill’ educational campaign, which was adopted by the Queensland Government in 2007. She also lobbied successfully for a review of murder and manslaughter laws in Queensland.  Accepting her 2009 Young Australian of the Year award, Jonty said, ‘victim was a title that was bestowed on me but has never become a way of life.’”

Jonty now works for the Department of Justice in victims support.  Additionally she is doing a Masters of Criminology and she also does some university teaching.  She was also recently appointed as one of the six community-based representatives on the Queensland Sentencing Advisory Council.

Jonty’s story is about many things but mostly it’s about her journey to forgiveness.  Not just for her own sake, but for the sake of her family. She maintains contact with her niece who lives with the family of the man who killed her father.

“It put me so far out of my comfort zone it did really encourage me to look at well "How do I get through this for her?" I think if I didn't have that, I wouldn't have looked for a reason to move through anything. I would have been quite stuck in just how angry I felt.

But certainly over the years it has required a lot of work, I think a lot of forgiveness, a lot of communication from both sides. I think there's two families that have had to really work together. At the moment I don't wish for anything bad to happen to him or his family. If I found out that he won a million dollars tomorrow on Tattslotto I can sincerely say I don't care what happens to him and that took me a long time and this is exactly where I wanted to be and I'm really proud to be at this place.”

An amazing, strong young woman who is an inspiration and yes, a hero.  Her struggle and eventual success in reaching a place of forgiveness is a lesson to us all.  It was hard road for her.  It took sacrifice. I can only aspire to that kind of strength of character.

Watch Jonty Bush on Australian Story here.....
http://www.abc.net.au/austory/specials/trialsofjontybush/default.htm

Spring Has Sprung!

What would Audrey do?

Is there anyone more elegant and perfectly lovely as Audrey Hepburn? She is the epitome of grace, beauty and compassion. What an amazing woman she was.
 

I recently read a book called "What Would Audrey Do?"

Though on-camera she was often cast in the role of a carefree ingénue, Audrey Hepburn’s off-camera life was marked by challenges: growing up without a father and with the Nazi threat during her youth; a demanding film career while she was a young mother; unfaithful husbands and two divorces; and constant scrutiny from the media. Yet Audrey Hepburn always epitomized beauty and grace. Bestselling author Pamela Keogh culls lessons in loveliness from a woman who survived every setback with panache.

Topics include:
• Dating and romantic advice from a woman who enjoyed romances with John F. Kennedy, William Holden, and Albert Finney
• A primer on what made Audrey the icon she is today, and how to apply her style choices to twenty-first-century clothes, makeup, and accessories
• Raising children, raising husbands, and making home life balanced in every way
• St. Audrey: Long before Angelina and Bono got all the press, Audrey Hepburn did invaluable work for UNICEF, teaching us much about extending ourselves to others.
In an era fraught with selfishness, artifice, and sensational headlines, the reality and tranquillity of Audrey is precisely what the world needs now.

Even though it's a tongue-in-cheek sort of book, it actually has a lot to offer in terms of creating a mindset of loveliness. She was an amazing woman.

Her work with UNICEF was extraordinary. She could have done anything with her life in her later years. She chose to visit places like Ethiopia, the Sudan, El Salvador, Bangladesh and Vietnam on behalf of UNICEF. She spent an enormous amount of time helping to raise funds. About her work for UNICEF, Audrey would say: 'I've been auditioning my whole life for this role, and I finally got it.' She attained everything that society today tells us is important. She had fame, beauty, succcess.  She was Givenchy's muse for 40 years, dressed in the most gorgeous clothing imaginable.  What did she do with this incredible profile she created? She used it to help children and to make the world a better place.  That is beauty.

I just adore Audrey Hepburn - truly beautiful, inside and out.

Oh! The Places You’ll Go! by Dr. Seuss

I love this book by Dr Suess.  Besides being clever and poetic and silly and funny and a bit crazy it really is inspirational.

Congratulations!

Today is your day.

You’re off to Great Places!

You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets. Look’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down. In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town. It’s opener there in the wide open air.

 
Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.

Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

You’ll be on your way up!

You’ll be seeing great sights!

You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.

You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed. You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don’t.

Because, sometimes, you won’t.

I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.

You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch. And your gang will fly on. You’ll be left in a Lurch.

You’ll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump. And the chances are, then, that you’ll be in a Slump.

And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And if you go in, should you turn left or right…or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around back and sneak in from behind? Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.

The Waiting Place

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.

No! That’s not for you!

Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying. You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you’ll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don’t. Because, sometimes, they won’t.

I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you.

All Alone!

Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?

Yes! You will, indeed!

(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

Kid, you’ll move mountains!

So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea, you’re off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your mountain is waiting.

So…get on your way!

I'm a whinger

I admit it. I’m a whinger.

I get cranky when I’m cold. I like my cup of tea in the morning, prepared just so and if I can’t have it, I get crabby. I’m particular about the most stupid stuff. I like things done a certain way and if someone or something prevents that, well, I get irritated. I like my sleep.

I don’t appreciate the good things in my life the way I should. I know in my heart that I am one of the lucky ones. I have a roof over my head and food on the table and a good job and a car and most importantly, a healthy, happy child. I have amazing friends and a great life. I live in a time where as a woman I have equal rights, where I have access to medical treatment for my family as I need it. There is fresh water and plentiful food available. I’m not subjected to violence and I don’t live in fear. I am so very, very lucky. I wish I could find a way to feel that every day; really feel it, really appreciate it.

I talk to my daughter about how lucky we are a lot. I tell her about the enormous number of people in the world who have no food, no home and no family. This morning she was complaining about having to go to school. I explained that although it doesn’t feel like it, she is lucky to be able to go to school. She is lucky to be in a clean, warm school uniform with a bag full of pencils and books and a lunch box filled with tasty snacks for the day. She has a bottle of clean water. She has all her friends to hang out with all day. And at the end of the day, the bell rings and she comes out of her classroom and straight into my arms for a kiss and cuddle. Lucky alright! When she gets home there is a snack, a place to do homework and then a nice dinner and television to watch. Then, at bedtime she has a warm, cosy bed to climb into.

I need to remind myself of all of this too. Mondayitis is bullshit really for most of us. I woke up this morning wishing I could sleep in, not rush and have a leisurely morning. I was crabby. After I had finished my little lecture to my daughter about being grateful for what we have I realised I needed to take a leaf out of my own book. Here is I was, driving to work in my late model car to a nice job that pays me a fair wage. I am treated with respect by my colleagues and the work is manageable. I work school hours. I eat a nice lunch at my desk and I can grab a cuppa whenever I want to. People here are nice and we have the odd laugh. I can listen to music during the day if I want to. My desk faces out the window and my outlook is pleasant. It is warm and comfortable. So really, what the hell do I have to complain about? And yet I do. I am a whinger, especially on a Monday.

I try to watch this video “Miniature Earth” regularly just to give myself a bit of a slap over the head. I need to snap out of it. I really do.

If we could turn the population of the earth into a small community of 100 people, keeping the same proportions we have today, it would be something like this...