Fortitude required to read further.
My 251st Blog – really? I hear you quietly murmuring. I know, I have written many posts since commencing and I have amazed myself at the quantity (my sympathies go out to all of you for putting up with them).
I am not doing prose/poetry for my 250th. I am getting back to grass-roots as it were – returning to ramblings. So perhaps get comfy in that chair and tilt it back a little. I am just going to write at will here (do my spell check of course, then hit the publish button – so anything is likely to occur).
I was born 19.07.55 (yes you do the maths) or for my American followers 7.19.55 (with apologies but I still can’t get my head around doing a date that way) 🙂
I was one of 3 siblings, my middle brother passing away some 6 years ago, dying alone in a Hotel room in India. I now have one elder brother and my parents (thank any high power you believe in) are still with me today.
I don’t remember much of my younger years, which is unfortunate as I am sure I would have many a story to tell, but for reasons (and not through age) I struggle to remember. I have snippets, small visuals that I recall now and then, but for the most part it’s a blank page. I do remember a doll I got for Christmas when I was probably 5 or 6 and I called her Irene after my mum. I remember when I was about 10 sitting in the car with Pop munching on a hunk of salami and a loaf of rye bread and a jar of pickles (Viking style). I do remember when I was 13, living at home, going across the road to an empty paddock with a fallen gum tree, standing proudly on top of it singing and playing air-guitar with the girl from next door.
I went to an exclusive all girls College for a year, only a year mind you, as at that time my eldest brother was also attending a Private School and in those days it was deemed more important for a ‘male’ to have an education and my parents were struggling to keep up the fees for both of us. So I was out. I didn’t mind, I continued going to Public School (High School) till Year 10 (sorry but I don’t know what that is in other countries).
I hated maths – I sucked at it, so I took an extra English class – perhaps that is where my love for writing began.
I was a rebel at School, yes I was the one (we are talking the early 70’s here people) that hitched their school dress way too high and thought I was cool. I also started wearing make-up to School and didn’t realise the cheapest powder I could get hold of had a lovely orange tinge to it. I suffered through the pimply stage and would hibernate at home on the weekends. I had girlfriends but mainly ‘boy’ friends – I was more comfortable in the company of ‘guys’ than ‘chicks’.
I wasn’t a Rhode Scholar in fact I barely made it to the end of Year 10, however I landed office jobs without too much trouble when I joined the work force and have continued my entire working life – in offices. That’s 41 years I have been working.
My parents Pop – Czech and Mum – English are the most delightful, encouraging, supportive, loving parents I could have hoped to have. They landed in Australia when mum was 21 and Pop 23. He started his own business and was quite successful for many years. My brothers and I never wanted for anything, we weren’t overly spoiled, but we well taken care of.
As I mentioned I was a bit a rebel in my teens (aren’t we all) and yes I did receive the strap once in a while when I was young to pull me into line. Today unheard of, of course, then however part and parcel of raising your child. I think I have turned out ok for it and think nothing of it now, it’s how it was.
I lied, I sneaked out, I did what most teenagers do or try to get away with. I would say I was staying at a girlfriends house (which I did) but I didn’t quite stay there.. when her parents were asleep we would haul asses out the window and meet up with boys.. you know the man of your dreams, the pillow you would kiss pretending they are with you. (Please tell me I’m not the only one!)
Escaping escapades did get myself and my girlfriend into serious trouble one night, as her parents checked in on us..ooops we weren’t in bed. The police were called. Back then it went to the ‘big boys’ who tracked us down, quietly sitting in a shed at the back of a bowling club smoking weed and listening to Jimmy Hendrix…ahh the things we do ..right?
Or the time my family would go and stay with our friends at their holiday house in the hills (long before I actually moved to them). This G/F and I thought we would hitch-hike to Melbourne (possibly just over an hour away by car). We thumbed down the highway to be picked up by 2 ‘nice young lads’ in a Ute …we were fine..not a care in the world, till they drove off the road into a deserted spot surrounded by trees. LUCKILY somehow and my memory is not serving me well at this point, we managed to escape and hide. Our age – 14 or 15. Naive young girls who thought they could handle any situation that came their way.
I am a doting mother – probably too much so, I found it difficult to let my girls stand on their own two feet or learn lessons in life. I was always there, I will continue to be that way hopefully not to their detriment.
I have had more than my share of relationships, some good some horrid some in-between. I was married at 26, had my first daughter at 28 and my second at 32. I was married for 19 years when I decided to pull the pin, only because our communication had broken down and we weren’t on the same wave length any longer. It happens, it’s life. My ex has remarried and I get along famously with her and my ex and my relationship is still amicable and healthy. For special birthdays for the girls we all get together, go out for dinner etc and I like it that way.
I then had other relationships before I met my last ex (sounds bad doesn’t it) we were together 6 years, engaged. He was 16 years my junior. It didn’t cease because of the age difference, we just weren’t meant to be. After a couple of small relationship fiascos I ventured onto the internet dating scene where I met Mr. S (yes I have written posts about that, so I won’t bore you further) by the way are you still awake?
All I will say about Mr. S and I is that we haven’t had a fight or a cross word since we met, 5 years ago this May, we are of the same ilk, he now being a blog widower is happy that I have found my calling and he is quite content to watch TV upstairs (we are talking 4 steps here) or read his Kindle books.
It has taken me many years to finally find someone who I am truly and 100% happy to be with and I love him to pieces. He let’s me be me, I let him be him. We share common goals and interests and laugh most days..but wait …I said I wasn’t go on about him, so I shall stop now.
Me – hmm well I use to oil paint – I sold one ONCE, I sketch now and then but writing (insert no shit sherlock) is where I belong.
I LOVE dogs all breeds all shapes all sizes. I cry at Lassie Movies. In fact I feel more saddened by the death of a dog than what I do a human in the Movies. When we had to have our fur-baby Tarsha put to sleep (aged 16) in memory of her I got a tattoo on my lower left hip with her name and a paw print. I was so scared, this was my first (and last) tattoo, but I had always tinkered with the thought of getting one..(but it had to have a special meaning) I decided the time was right. I remember the pain, I remember lying there and the girl Tattooist saying “Breathe” to which I replied “I’m trying” but I am happy that I had it and it’s a constant reminder of my girl.
I love horse riding and though I haven’t been since last year I am itching to get back in the saddle.
I live within my means, I don’t own a credit card. If you can’t afford to pay for it – you don’t buy – that’s my motto. When I was a young mum I bought some clothes for myself in Target only to get to the cash register and say “Sorry I can’t take them”…because I felt guilty about spending on me and not my family.
I did love to read but blogging has err taken over that.
I smoke (yes I know don’t shake your heads in disgust) us ‘lepers’ already have to deal with the tsk tsk’s and the ..what you smoke eyebrow lifts. I drink – no not an alcoholic (though one doesn’t truly admit that do they?) ok I enjoy a drink ..that sounds better.
I wrote a book – what you haven’t heard of it???? depressionexists wrote a post and dedicated it to me and my Memoir which I love her for and I must say her review tickled me pink or was that orange. Anywhoo, I only mention this ..because I know for the writers out there who struggle to get published, it is such a difficult road. If you lucky enough to get an Agent to represent you, you may have a chance. I tried unsuccessfully to do that, I sent my Memoir off to every Publisher in Australia, the UK and USA. “You write with humour and warmth and honesty…but not what we are looking for at this point in time” was the reply.. so I EPublished, and woot woot I have sold I think 27-28? books. No I won’t retire a millionaire, but I have the knowledge that someone out there has read the words that I wrote over 3-4 years, that in itself is my reward, my dollars as it were.
I cry at anything. I am an emotional little poppet – I am Cancerian we are built that way..full moons make me go ‘troppy’ (nuts) I get hyper, babbling more than usual..(wait is it one tonight?)
I enjoy cooking if I’m having a dinner party (but freak out if there are more than 4 guests). Otherwise during the week I rarely cook. Mr. S does a mean poached eggs on toast and I’m cool with that..let’s just say we graze and don’t often sit down for a ‘cooked meal’, as daughter # 2 is out most nights and can fend for herself at any rate.
I adore both my girls – chalk and cheese as they say. Unique perhaps? Trials – tribulations… I have had the lot and will continue to do so..just being a parent.
I can’t wait to be a ‘nanna’… busting actually.
I wear a 7 1/2 to 8 shoe and I’m a size 10 and I have hazel eyes oh pfft I have a photo on one of my blogs – don’t need to tell you (though now my hair is pixie cut short – Vidal Sassoon style).
I am um 5’ 5 and A HALF ( the half being terribly important) or (166 cm roughly) you wouldn’t have been able to sleep without knowing that, or perhaps that’s what has tipped you over?
I’m a dedicated employee but won’t put up with bullying or BS and strong enough (and old enough) to speak up if I feel something isn’t right.
I love music most kinds (apart from Jazz) that annoys me.
I love to dance (ok pretend that I’m young again dancing around my hand bag on the dance floor).
I believe I am a good friend (I hope that I am) and I am there whenever I am needed.
I had laser on my face today and look like I’ve done a few round with Ali.
I think constantly at the moment of my parents and their life and how things have changed. I see them struggle and it saddens my heart. I help as much as I can, be there as much as I can. I am thankful we are only a 7 minute drive away from where they live. I can’t imagine them not being in my life..I don’t want to imagine.
So there you have it – me in not quite a nutshell – Rambly foibles and all.
Maybe you have learnt more about this person that you follow…or maybe your nose is now wedged between the letter T and N key on your keyboard.
Thank you if you have had the courage to read this all and not skip lines, thank you for your continued supported which I am most grateful for.
I bid you goodnight it is 1am Saturday morning…. have a wonderful weekend everyone.