Category Archives: our little rollercoaster

musings about life and all its ups and downs

of Sunday mornings, gentle goals and little dreams …

The frost is thick on the ground, the sky is blue and clear.

The house is mine alone this Sunday morning so I am languishing in bed, propped up with pillows, enjoying the stillness, thinking it’s been a while.

A poached egg, fresh toast from Legall’s and a little avocado.

Polly is nosing in for a pat. Yes I love you too.

What a year this has been. Is it just me? Working in a business where everything is moving so fast, feeling the pressure to stay on top of things, to change things up, to ‘follow my passions’.

I did eight weeks of BSchool in autumn and it fuelled the fire. Don’t get me wrong, there was lots of good juice, especially for my clients, but it was very noisy. People climbing over themselves to be seen and heard online. 12,000 of them in the Facebook group. I’ve never been good in crowds. Like many of those courses and self help type books you’ll take away just a few gems and that’s OK. But I’m happy to shut the door on that one for a while. You can’t be creative in an environment like that.

It’s made me question again (I know) the role of social media in our lives and as I mentioned last post it’s something I want to talk about with social researcher aka wise owl, Hugh Mackay. I’ve finished reading his book The Good Life and I took away more than just a few gems. It was quiet. And good soul food. And it reminded me how intensely more satisfying it is to drown in a good book than bob about like a cork on social media. With a book you are down below the waves and the noise and the foam, in that exquisite womb of silence, utterly in the moment. Tim Winton territory. Senses alive. Every one of them alert and open.

Warm toes. Soft sheets. A second cup of tea. I am so very lucky.

I have also been continuing the fitness journey which has taken me away from the computer too. Four weeks in with the personal training I pinged a tendon at the base of my spine and that put me back a few weeks. If it had been left to me I would have called it quits but having made the commitment with the trainer we found a gentler path through it all and I am out the other side.

And over the past eight weeks I have learnt something.

I have learnt that I am more inclined to exercise if I have a purpose and I set myself some gentle goals. For instance, two kilometres on the bike in 8.07 minutes. Next time aim for under 8. Next time a little less. Walking the Mount with the girls I am the resident chain dragger on the hills. When I first started I’d have to stop three or four times on the climbs to catch my breath. But yesterday I walked it with no breaks. Little. Personal. Gentle goals. Trust me if I can do it, you can too. We are stronger than we think.

Hello Polly. Yes we’ll go for a walk soon.

There is so much I need and want to learn with work. I need to get a better understanding of html and css. I want to learn Lightroom. And I want to swap across from Final Cut Pro to Adobe Premiere for video editing. Mountains. Always more mountains. But one at a time.


Go gently …

We are losing a friend. And I have been reluctant to visit because I am not of her inner circle and I can’t help but feel that’s who you would want around you in your last days. Cut down way too young with acute myeloid leukaemia. So brave and positive throughout these wickedly fast few months. I had a call from another friend who had been to the hospital last night and said it might be a good time to visit. Quiet. Just she and her partner. They were planning to be married in September. Big dreams. Little dreams. They can come in all shapes and sizes. What my friend would give just to be sitting in bed with a poached egg, fresh toast from Legalls and a little avocado. How I wish things were different…

Sunday mornings,

gentle goals,

and little dreams…

I am so very grateful, this cold clear morning, for them all.

And with that she decided to treat herself to a third cup of tea because it just felt so damned lovely to be able to stop for a while. But there was a very patient dog lying quietly at her doorway with its head on its paws, eyeballing her, poised to pounce at the first sign of movement. Perhaps no mountains today Pol. Let’s just stroll the river.


late evening walks


When you don’t have the answer …

“How? How can humans do that to animals?” he said with tears in his eyes.

My 16 year old son.

Waking up to the world.

“Humanity is fucked,” he said.

So he has shaved his head and become a vegetarian.

I’m not saying that to mock him. I am actually really proud that he is starting to see beyond himself and take an interest in the wider world.

I’m not sure that I like the new look but as I’ve said before I’d rather have a conversation or a road trip than a fight about a shaved head or a tiny tattoo.


What frightened me more was that for the first time ever I didn’t have an answer for him.

Big questions

What do you say to your child when they start to see the realities of the world? How do you explain the corruption of our politicians? The inequities? The greed? The rampant consumerism? The dredging of the Great Barrier Reef to make way for the world’s largest coal terminal?

I said to Darce I turn to beauty and art and music for solace because while there is so much that’s wrong in the world, there is also so much that’s right. And good. And beautiful.

I stumbled on this mate and thought of our conversation.

It’s not an answer.

But it’s a start.

Postcript … I walked Mount Panorama (Wahlu) this morning with my girlfriend Sue. The clearest blue sky overhead and frost at our toes. Talking about the world’s first breakthrough for solar thermal energy. And Obama’s decision to bypass Congress and use the Environmental Protection Agency to reduce coal pollution by 30%. 

Gives you hope hey.

Have a beautiful weekend x


When you lose your compass …

We’re feeling a little flat today because today would have been Steve’s Mum’s birthday – her first birthday since we lost her last July.

I can’t think of anyone who has left quite such a hole in our lives and I don’t say that lightly because I’ve lost my own dear mum and dad in recent years.

Pat was just larger than life. All five foot nothing of her. And for her last couple of years she lived just around the corner.

It’s been interesting over the past few months just how many people, beyond the family, have expressed how much they miss her too.

Losing parents throws so much into question. For Steve and his family it’s meant making the tough decision to let go of the family farm. For us that’s been a big one because Steve worked out there for the greater part of his life. There was a lot of emotion to work through. Decisions to be made. A new future to consider.

It takes time to regroup when you lose a parent.

Somehow it defrags you. Suddenly you’ve lost your compass. There was always a reference point to turn to and when that’s gone it can leave you a bit at sea.

So behind the scenes we’ve been a bit quiet.

And in amongst getting the farm ready to sell and working, Steve has been sculpting…

boat deconstructed

rocking horse

The wave cutter


The Strongman and the Acrobats

Ned meets The Matrix

Ned Kelly meets The Matrix | detail

Sue's dragon


Welcome to Australia

Fear and Loathing

The sculler




…and I’ve been cooking.

The house smells of wait for it … curried sausages.

I said to Darce last night “It’s Gran’s birthday tomorrow, we should cook up one of her dishes. How about cutlets?” because we all have memories of lamb cutlets crumbed and cooked to perfection in lard (of course) in the old Aga stove over at the farm. Pass the homemade tomato relish please.

“No,” he said. “Let’s have curried sausages.”

It’s not one of her fancier dishes (and Pat could be the fanciest of cooks when she put her mind to it) but it’s one of those comforting dishes that reminds us of simple winter lunches. Having said that, the table would always be set, cloth napkins for everyone and all the grandkids would be minding their ps and qs and being chided by their grandmother if their manners slipped. That was in between her having sword fights with them with wooden spoons and shovelling sponge cakes and lamingtons and homemade biscuits into their eager mouths at every opportunity.

She was old school. Her energy for life was boundless. As was her sense of fun.

There is a lot to miss.

So tonight Patty, we’ll set the table nicely, light the candles, tuck into our curried sausages, baked custards and rhubarb and we’ll raise a glass to you. Happy birthday lovely one. Miss you. Miss you very much. xox