Does the cake stay the same : or are we playing an age game?

number 45

What if we didn’t count¬†weeks and months and years? What if we didn’t celebrate birthdays and did away with calendars? Would we fear ageing in the way that we do, if the numerical stacking of years did not occur?

Would we live each day as it was, and our todo calendars would contain just days, not years? Would anxiety fall, would life be simplified; would we not divide lives into what lies ahead, what might remain, but focus on what is now?

If age was not a number, if the average life span was not communicated by digits, what would the human mindset be? Would death still be feared as always on the horizon?

Would our careers and usefulness still have a use by date?

Just wondering…

number nine

 

The icing to the cake has changed flavors. But if you really look at the cake itself, it’s really the same.

John Oates

 

Does the mind replay what the heart can’t delete?

trixie belden

I remember:

Watching The World of Disney on a Sunday evening.

Being allowed a sip of beer from teeny, tiny liquor glasses on “special” occasions.

My Mum sitting by my bed as I ate vegemite sandwiches and drank a glass of milk, when I woke hungry in the middle of the night.

The places our imaginations took us when playing with my best friend on her farm. Nothing like a ute (utility truck) to become a boat, a space ship, a caravan,or an island.

My nose starting to bleed in the middle of My First Holy Communion.

Being diagnosed with Scarlet Fever.

Visiting the library for the first time.

My first and only Barbie doll. She has dark permed hair! And yes I still have her!

Kneeling on bare wooden floors to recite the rosary in grade one.

My Grandmother’s fruit, jelly and ice cream desserts.

Feeding the pigs with my Grandmother.

My Grandfather telling me mixed up fairytales, and laughing.

Cousins, lots of cousins and always playing.

Wishing I had a baby brother or sister, so I would’t be the baby and I wouldn’t be lonely.

Our family doctor making house visits and teasing my sister for the Beatles posters on our shared bedroom wall.

My parents always helping, opening our home, to the children of friends and family in crisis.

Never not knowing how to read.

Waiting for each week’s edition of Teddy Bear magazine to arrive.

Reading and rereading my Trixie Belden books.

My father “paying” me twenty cents to comb his hair.

My best Christmas ever when I got a large boy doll and a table and chair set. The doll had clothes sewed by my mother and the table and chairs had been made by the family living next door, but they were perfect in every way.

Sunday visits to relatives, or relatives visiting us.

My Grandfather’s funeral and seeing my mother cry for the first time.

Being allowed to write with a pen for the first time.

The arrival of a second hand typewriter in our house and the hours I spent writing stories.

 

Just a few things that defined my life and shaped me into the person I am today. The beginning of me…

Memories are the architecture

not one to forget

A little gutted tonight. My favourite student, a young man who is just going into his final year of high school, is not returning to our school, but going to a rural state high school about an hour drive away.

He is such a nice young man, and we used to look forward to the time he spent in the library. Very quiet, much more mature than many of his fellow students, with a friendly nature. He wrote articles for an online sporting magazine and sat in on our creative writing group each week, more for the food than the writing, but he was always a bonus.

He said nothing at the end of last year, so I can only surmise that something unexpected happened to force him to change schools. I worry as it is his final year, not a good time to disrupt a child’s education.

Also, he isn’t the most outgoing young man. He had a couple of friends but seemed very secure in his own company. An introvert for sure. How is he going to survive in the harsh environment of a state high school? So hard to break into groups at his age. My heart breaks for him.

I hope I am wrong, and that he has a wonderful experience, but I guess I will never know, now. I wonder if students ever know just how much the teacher really does care, sometimes?

Goodbye and Good luck, I hope you have a wonderful life.

Let them eat pav; or an iced vo vo.

Australia Day is one day we love to embrace our Australian cuisine. Our favourite foods also remind us that the simple things are often the best.

 

No wonder we have become a country of lard baskets!

What would you do with a unicorn head mask?

unicorn 1

Oh, let me count the ways.

Wear it to school and teach in it.

Go through the drive though window at Maccas and order a diet coke.

Sit in the public gallery at Parliament House, when the politicians are debating climate change. Just as a little reminder of what can be lost…

Visit the hairdresser and ask for just a little off the back!

Get my nails done and ask for the same colour to be applied to my horn.

Attend¬†my granddaughter’s second birthday party.

Get a new photo taken for my driver’s licence.

Wear it when the school class photos are taken. My home class would be legendary.

Sit in bed, waiting for Mr FD to turn on the light!

 

What would you do with a unicorn head mask? Keep it clean.

unicorn 2

 

 

 

Prompt link