Elusive Sleep

I don't know what's wrong with me but I just can't sleep lately. Last night I woke at 3:45am, the night before 3:30am and the night before that 3:20am. Which is fine over the weekend but when I have to come to work after only a couple of hours of sleep (because I don't go to sleep ever before 12:30am at the EARLIEST), it's kind of rough on me for the first few hours.

So far today (and not even 9:30am yet) I've had a

grande latte with:

shots

then..... and

I think I'll be bouncing off the ceiling in a little while....and I am craving another diet coke already!!!

Update at 11:15am..... cracking another diet coke....yeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaw

I wonder if it would be a bad idea to hit the Red Bull at lunchtime? I've consumed 536.8 mg of caffeine already!!!

No Red Bull at lunchtime, just another of these.

New caffeine count 581.4 mg!!

Will I ever sleep again??

Goose and Gander

Today we're off for our department pre-Christmas lunch. No turkey for us, we've opted for superb roast goose!

(Sorry, about the picture, they have it split on the website and I don't have the wherewithal to piece it back together again, but I'm sure from that you get the idea.)

Excellent food. And to tempt your tastebuds this is the menu. We'll be having a good old feast and there will definitely be at least one goose on the table! But no shark's fin, nope nope nope.

Update - we had:

Preserved Eggs with Ginger

Roast Goose

Congee (rice porridge) - I had mine with beef slices

Dao Miu (pea shoots)

Braised Beancurd with Assorted Meat

Baked Spare Ribs

Egg Custard Tarts

YUMMY - got to love Asian-style eating where you share everything.

Just to make Emily drool some more - Updated 20 December - today for lunch we had traditional Cantonese dim sum:

Rice paste rolls with shrimp

Barbeque pork steamed buns

Barbeque pork in pastry

Steamed chicken feet with rice

Steamed sliced fish with rice

Tripe in black pepper sauce

Shrimp dumplings

Chive dumplings

Roast pork with crackling

Pork dumplings

Beancurd sheet rolls

Taro puffs

Chive dumplings

Shrimp rolls

Vegetarian Beancurd rolls

Deep fried squid tentacles

and we ended it with

Steamed sponge pudding

Egg tarts

There were six of us chowing down!!

My Little Corner of the Corporate World

Once upon a time, I had my own little office. With a door I could close and even lock. With blinds across the glass 'wall' I could draw if needed. Where I could deal with work and people away from prying eyes and listening ears. Where I had a Klee print on the wall and an eastern rug on the floor. I loved my little 'home away from home'. Well, as someone who spends at least 14 hours a day at work, I wanted to make my environment warm and inviting.

But, since we did a total revamp of our offices (we have two complete floors in the building) over a year ago, I now have a little space within a large space. No walls. No blinds. No doors. So much more 'corporatey'. In my line of work, it really does make things difficult at times for me and the worst part is that fewer people now come to see me. If they do want time with me, we have to find a meeting room. It puts them off making the effort. I know it prevents me doing my job as effectively as I once did it.

Oh well, the corporate world in its infinite wisdom decided to 'open up communication'. Which is fine and dandy but I'm sure I don't want the rest of the people I work with to know what compensation package I'm offering a new manager. Nor do those who seek me out to talk about personal issues, really care to share it with everyone within hearing distance!

So, this is my little space now. Well part of it, there's a little more than in these pics. The main area of my desk is to the left, but that day, as always, it was covered in work files so I just took a pic of the more interesting part. And I have more work surfaces behind and to the side of me. It's a nice little area, and I've made it so noone can sneak up on me, giving me time to cover sensitive information be it on the screen or on my desk. It's amazing how eyes wander when people are in my work area!

And this in particular is the 'me' part. Where I surround myself with people I care about. My dad, Nooj and her family, Lupo. Yes, Lupo is 'people' to me!! Our official policy is no more than two personal photographs to be displayed. Yeah right, as you can see I follow THAT rule!! Actually one of the hats I wear is that of office manager so I'm supposed to enforce such anal regulations. And which I refuse to do.

Rhona sent me these for my birthday - I love them!!! And if they ever do try to enforce this two-photos-only rule, well I can have at least four as I'm still entitled to have a mousepad and a mug....

So now you know where I spend most of my waking hours. And from where I so very often write these little missives.

Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

My fault, my most grievous fault.

In my recent travels through blogland, I'm seeing more than a few instances of mea culpa being expressed. And in some places there has been the laying of blame. I'm now stopping to think a little about it all.

Mea culpa. My fault. More than my responsibility, my FAULT. An invitation to apportion blame? Do they go hand in hand in more ways, to a greater depth, than we sometimes realise?

In one of my past relationships, I was with a man who blamed. He blamed his father, he blamed his mother, he blamed his sisters, he blamed his son. He blamed the world. But most of all he seemed to blame me. For his losses, for his bad decisions, for his weaknesses - all of which occurred before we even got together!

And for too long, I let him think that by blaming me, and me accepting that in some weird way I could have been responsible for events that weren't even in our past, things could somehow make more sense for him. The strange thing was, that the one person who really had been instrumental in his losses and his sadness, survived it all totally blame-free.

Then too, thinking back to my mum and dad and their daily interaction, makes me wonder. I know they weren't particularly happy together. No wait, my dad wasn't particularly happy, but my mum was content with what she had and knew my dad would never leave her. I think that is at the root of the play that developed between them in later life. An example would be: Dad accidentally knocks something off the coffee table. Immediately, he'd look over at her and say something to the effect of "for christ sake woman" even though my mum had absolutely nothing to do with what just happened. We used to laugh about it but in recent years, upon reflection, I have come to see it as probably one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed. How deeply ingrained must the resentment have been, that his first thought when something went wrong was, it must be her fault in some way.

My dad was a good man. No, more than that, he was an exceptional man. Except for that one thing. And I suppose I'm only now realising how unhappy he was, how trapped he felt. And maybe, just maybe my mum's responses to things today are because of how she, too, must have felt for so many years, knowing he was there with her not out of love but out of some sort of obligation.

I don't blame my mother for anything. Likewise, I don't blame some of the people who have been in my life, not for the pain they put me through, nor the demons they deposited into my psyche. I did for a long time, I even allowed professionals to make me think I needed to confront and blame. The reality of it all is that I am the only one who needed to make peace with myself. To understand that bad things can happen through no fault of my own.

Everyone, and everything, I have encountered on my life's path has been there for a reason. Who I have become, the lessons I have learned, these are the reasons. I am where, and who, I have always meant to be.

No mea culpas, no laying of blame.

Why Does She Do This To Me?

"I've given you power of attorney. My lawyer will send you the papers to sign. It means you will have control over everything, so don't deplete my bank account."

And I'm like....what?!?!?!?

I gently explained that I would never do such a thing, that I respect my father's wishes and will do everything in my power to see them followed through. That I would NEVER take something that's not mine. She knows me better than that. Why does she have to say such things? For goodness sake, she's given me this responsibility instead of my older brother, for the very reason she knows I'm more trust-worthy.

Then she tells me that I will be the one to make the decision on when to "pull the plug". Whoah there woman. No. I told her that she is quite capable now, of making her wishes known in that respect.

Does she wish to be put on a ventilator when that time comes? Decide now.

Would she want resuscitation if she goes into cardiac arrest? Decide now.

I told her I will make sure her wishes are observed, but I will not make the decisions for her. That she is able to put things into place now to document her choices.

I used the opportunity to open up a discussion about what she would like with regard to her final resting place. As, when my dad died, there seemed to be four different versions of what he wanted, depending on whom you spoke with. She said to me: "Just put me in the fire and tell them to get rid of the ashes."

Yes, I know, I know, she's obviously at odds with herself with the inevitabilty of her own situation. I know that I need to consider so many things that she is facing. But I was aghast. So I said, would you like me to bring you back to where Dad is? To which I got - I don't want any of that pallaver. I assured her I would do it quietly. I would even do it myself. I would do that for her. "No" was her answer.

It seems I'm supposed to tell the undertaker: Burn her and dump the ashes. Does she see me in that light? Capable of doing that?

My mother continues her battle, daily, with lung cancer and COPD. She has chosen not to undergo any treatment. She resists even palliative care, surrounds herself with, although well-meaning, sycophants. She presses them into arguing with me when I try to talk to her about the reality of her situation. Actually she's chosen to chase her own death. Her cigarette consumption is up. She misrepresents how she feels and what she is capable of, physically, to her doctors, making it hard for them to help her effectively. I know, I get the reports. She authorised their release to me, so she's aware I read her lies. She tries to engage me in arguments about it. I refuse to be drawn into them.

I'm trying so hard to help her towards the end gently, with all the support I can give her. I'm trying to be a good and true daughter. Why the hell can't she be a loving mother, even now?

The State of Play

There they sit, warm, heavy, full. So soft and pliant to the touch, so incessantly squeezable.

I love to run my fingertips lightly over them, hearing those soft sighs my touch elicits. I'm fascinated by the way his skin responds to my fingers. Crinkling into a tightness that he must feel, his own flesh pulling him up into his body. Going from soft and smooth to a tougher, hide-like texture full of ridges and bumps.

They respond much as parts of me respond, going from warm and soft, to cool and hard. Shrinking into a mass of nerve endings so hungry for contact. We spend long, long periods of time quietly touching and caressing. Stroking and squeezing. Hands and mouths discovering and mapping each other.

He told me on the phone last night how he loves the touch of my fingertips right there. But I wonder if he realises just how much my fingertips crave him. How I ache to feel that particular part of his beautiful body.

In The Deep

~ the video ~

thought you had
all the answers
to rest your heart upon.
but something happens
don't see it coming,
now you can't stop yourself.

now you're out there swimming
in the deep.
in the deep.

life keeps tumbling your heart in circles
till you... let go
till you shed your pride and you climb to heaven
and you throw yourself off.

now you're out there spinning
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep.

now you're out there spinning
now you're out there swimming
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep.

the full version goes on with....

In the silence,
all your secrets
will raise their weary heads.
well, you can't pin yourself
back together with
who you thought you were

now you're out there living
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep

now you're out there spinning
now you're out there swimming
now you're out there spinning
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep.
in the deep.

if you want to be given everything,
give everything up

Texas Beef, Cold Stone Creamery...and Being TOO Cute Together

I'm back. And it was even better than the last trip. I didn't think that was possible, but it was. And the next will be even better.

When you are with someone who constantly validates you, who constantly makes you feel loved, who constantly cherishes every moment with you - and when you do that for each other, my god it's just amazing, it's beyond description.

And it shows.

On our last evening together we went and ate steaks, HUGE slabs of chargrilled prime Texas beef, followed by the most amazing concoctions from Cold Stone Creamery. We sat eating dinner, as usual both on the same side of the booth, laughing, smiling, talking, touching each other's face, gentle kisses, fingers stroking hands, arms, legs. Just how we always are together.

Then, we walked from the restaurant to the ice cream place and one of the waitresses from the restaurant (and no, not one who'd served us) was on her break and as we passed by, arms around each other, smiling and talking, she said to us, with a huge smile:

"You guys are just TOO cute together"

So there you have it folks, an unsolicited comment that he and I are TOO cute together *L*.

Well hell, we are!!

Up, Up and Away.....Again

I'm leaving today, off to earn some more air miles and be with someone so very special. That is NOT in the order of priority I assure you.

It will be quiet around here until Friday, at which time I'll be home again. No doubt battling jetlag, but hopefully not another dose of the flu.

Be safe and be happy everyone.

*Drawing the curtains and turning out the light for a few days*

Skips off happily!!!!

From Desiderata.....To Desiderata Too

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

~ Written by Max Ehrmann, 1927 ~


Updated for our modern lives:

Desiderata Too

Don't go placidly amid the apathy and lethargy. Remember that your silence is consent and there can be no peace where there is injustice.

You can't please all the people all the time, so shout your truth from the mountain top and don't accept nonsense from the bigoted, the ignorant and the self-serving.

Don't avoid people who are upset. They may have good reasons and your care and interest may make them less aggressive.

Be tolerant of the diversity that makes everyone special and be aware that there are no persons greater or lesser than yourself.

Don't live in the past or future. Enjoy the present.

Don't become obsessed by your own career. It cannot give you security or possession of anything or anyone.

Exercise trust in your dealings but be circumspect, as the world is full of materialists.
Become yourself. Express affection for all people and all species.

Be sceptical about romance for it is as transient as a summer flower.

Don't become tired in your ways and never surrender your sense of wonder. Don't be defensive. Be optimistic and imaginative.

Fatigue and loneliness are born of fear. Be rigorous in accepting responsibility for your actions and their consequences.

You are a child of your less than perfect parents and like the trees and the stars your time will pass. And whether or not it is clear to you, things are not working out nearly as well as they could.

Whatever you conceive God to be, also be aware that every single thing you do actually changes the world. Dreams cannot be broken and they will give you no peace if you don't act with integrity.

Unfortunately, this world is becoming uglier each day.

Be brave.

Strive for the right of all people to make their own paths.

~ Found in a South Australian kitchen.
Andrew Bunney, Copyright 1992 ~

Doogooder

With much sadness and a heavy heart, I have removed the link to DG's blog. It seems he won't be returning. I know there has been some speculation as to the reasons behind his sudden disappearance, there probably always will be.

For me, he was a good friend on several levels. I miss him and his words.

And I shall always be so incredibly thankful to him for encouraging me to start blogging. For it is through this medium that I have found new friendships, and more.

Wherever you are DG, may your journey be a safe and loving one. And if you ever drop by and see this, e-mail me damnit!!

Healed

Empty
Needing to be filled

I am able to breathe slowly, calmly, easily,
without restriction

My heart no longer hurts
isn’t feeling squeezed anymore

I feel strong mentally
able to put across any point I believe in

I feel secure in myself

I need no acceptance nor appraisal from others
to feel so

I feel capable and knowledgeable

I am comfortable with the responsibility that comes
with those traits

I feel safe
I am safe

I feel love
I can love

I can trust

I have no fear of the future

I know and understand what it is to feel

I am a complete person
Not bits and pieces inside
a bunch of skin.


~ Author unknown, used in treatment at Nechako Centre, Prince George, BC ~

Animals Are NOT Performers

Goodbye to this kind of cruelty in Shanghai

Dear Fiona,

Fantastic news! Following our Executive Director Annie Mather's visit to Shanghai Wild Animal Park which documented the cruelty of the "Shanghai Animal Olympics" and our letters and calls of protest to the Mayor and local authorities, the event has now been cancelled!

The Shanghai Daily newspaper quoted a park official, Su Feilong, as saying that a negative public response had prompted the cancellation. "The games never caused any trouble before, but we received complaints this year, so we stopped them," Su was quoted as saying.

Those complaints came from compassionate animal lovers like you who were sickened by our pictures and information about these cruel and degrading "performances" and wrote in to the Embassies and China National Tourist offices in your country, calling on them to end the shows.

Thank you on behalf of all in the team of Animals Asia for proving that, together, our voices, our actions, can make a difference.

Animals Asia will be writing to those same authorities thanking them for their leadership in compassion towards animals in entertainment who have the right to be wild. We will also be asking if we can now provide a permanent home for the poor blind bear that was forced to stand for hours at a time while tourists posed with him for photographs.

Again, we are so proud to have friends and supporters like you who have helped us in this significant step to end cruelty in the name of entertainment. Thank you!

Warmest wishes,
Jill
Jill Robinson MBE
Animals Asia Foundation
Hong Kong


It breaks my heart to see animals 'performing'. No matter whether in a circus, show, sea-life park. The only circus I'll go to is Cirque du Soleil. I just hate to see it. I've never even trained my dog to do 'tricks'.

You may have noticed this link in my sidebar, it's a charity I've supported for many years.

Apart from these bears in Shanghai, Jill and her team have been responsible for rescuing countless moon bears from a life-time of the most atrocious treatment (caged into metal frames less than the size of their bodies, limbs sometimes removed) as part of the bile-milking industry in China.

They also do amazing work in liberating thousands of dogs from the food markets of Guangzhou. Though I have to admit, I can't look at that area of the website, nor read those newsletters, the pictures are too disturbing to me. I've lived here a long time, long enough to have seen too many of those images, many of which still haunt me to this day.

If you have a moment, please visit the website. (strong warning re contents in the 'Friends.....or Food?' tab)

Emotional Laxative

Does such a thing exist?

I could use some if it does. My emotions feel blocked. They've been like this all weekend. They are there, no doubt about it, but I can't seem to express them like they need to be expressed. I don't want to expunge them, just loosen them up a bit. Maybe, therefore, it's not a laxative I need, but an emotional stool softener? Just to get things moving again.

I think it stems from the solitary feelings that come from space, time, responsibilities elsewhere. When you love someone so deeply, to be in a position where you can't express it in the way you need to, constantly, can cause this emotional constipation. I have such an innate need to express, to show, to be in the moment and not merely talking about it.

I have a need to be 'in love' when I'm in love. It's my nature. I want to touch, taste, smell, hear, see. I want to use all of me to show my feelings. I want, no I NEED, to be in each moment, not talking about it as a 'when'. It's just so hard to be revolving around the periphery of the experience.

Does any of this even make sense? Sometimes it does to me and sometimes I think, get a grip Fiona!

Fish Tacos, Korean BBQ and Vienna Sausages

The excesses of Thanksgiving reminded me of an old woman Rhona and I met while we were on holiday in Hawaii.

As evening approached one day, we were discussing dinner plans. She had her heart set on Korean BBQ (again!!) and I was more fish-inclined. So we compromised and headed off to the food court at the Ala Moana Mall where we knew both culinary desires could be met. Along with pretty much any food requirement.

I decided on a fish taco combi and she went for her beef ribs with three sides (two kimchi and one spinach). As these options were at opposite ends of the food court, we'd picked a place to rendezvous beforehand. Luckily it wasn't too busy so we placed our trays on the nearest table and as we did so a rather frail old lady, balancing a tray on her walker, came towards the same table. Rhona took her tray and put it on the table, while I helped the lady settle into her seat and tucked her walker out of the way.

There we sat with gigantic platters piled high with food (gosh American portions are HUGE!!) and we both looked at her tray. She had a cup of hot water, probably given gratis by one of the vendors, and her own teabag. She then reached into her bag and pulled out her dinner. This:


Rhona looked at me in dismay. Her eyes dragging mine back to the woman's tray. Then she leaned into me and said "Fion we can't eat all this while she eats that, I want to get her some proper food." I said well you need to be careful, so as not to offend, older people have a lot of pride. She took the advice and we ate, at all times cognisant of the imbalance.

As the old lady finished her can of sausages and drank her tea, Rhona reached over and laid her hand on her arm, saying to her, "I'm going to get something else to eat, can I get you something?" The old lady, of Japanese heritage from appearances, said she didn't really understand, but Rhona wasn't going to give up and eventually they reached an agreement that she would like some fruit. So off she went in search of fresh fruit in some form.

While Rhona was gone, I tried to initiate conversation with the woman but she really wasn't understanding much so we ended up just smiling at each other. Rhona returned with a lovely selection of pineapple, papaya and mango and offered it to her. She tucked into it and finished it all in no time, while we sat with her. We'd been there a while and as Rhona and I had plans to see the sunset torchlighting, we indicated we were going to go and through a combination of mime and smiles and a few broken words, we asked if she would like some help with her walker. She politely decined and managed to communicate to us that she was going to sit there for a while. That's when we realised she probably had nowhere else to go and this was possibly a ritual she looked forward to every day.

It's the sort of thing that puts a dampener on your day, to know that there is a lonely old woman sitting eating a tin of processed crap for her dinner in a busy, noisy food court. Rhona was quite down about it all. She has a huge heart and feels so much for others. And I was so proud of her, how she handled it all. She has grown into a wonderful woman and so far from who she was a few years ago. She makes me proud.

I sometimes sit and think of the old lady in Honolulu and my heart does break a little each time. It must be so sad to be that alone in one's old age.

I will admit that it's one of my biggest fears.

Happy Thanksgiving To My American Friends

The year has turned its circle,

The seasons come and go.

The harvest all is gathered in

And chilly north winds blow.

Orchards have shared their treasures,

The fields, their yellow grain,

So open wide the doorway - Thanksgiving comes again!

Today, I offer up thanks for blessings received. And for those yet unknown but already on the way.

I am thankful for my friends, my family and the love surrounding me, for my health and security. And for my freedom and the opportunities that affords me.

I have found more than I have lost and I am a better woman than I was 12 months ago. I am thankful for all my life's lessons in the past year, even the hard ones. Especially the hard ones.

May you all have a most wonderful and blessed Thanksgiving. And may your horns always be filled with plenty!!

For those less fortunate, spare a moment to think of them today. And if you are able, contribute to their betterment in some small way.

The Six Weirdnesses of Fiona

I was tagged by Steve. And this is apparently how it goes:

Each player of this game starts with the “6 weird things about you”. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “you are tagged” in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

OK then....six degrees of my weirdness:

1. I am dyscalculic. Mainly quantitatively. It's not a very common thing and doubly weird for me as I'm in the numbers side of HR, as compensation specialist! This went undiagnosed while I was in school so wasn't addressed as a learning disability and I was thrown out of maths when I was about 12. It just goes to show, I haven't let my limitations limit me.

2. I love to eat with my hands. Slap anything between two slices of bread (wholewheat please) and I'm happy. Anyone else like spaghetti bolognaise sandwiches? I know Chele does :)

3. I have a queen-size bed but sleep on about 1/6 of it because I'm a bed-edge hugger. On my right side, with my left arm hanging over the edge of the bed. Oh and I also hate my feet being covered, even if it's really cold.

4. I drink plain hot water. Actually that's not even weird in this part of the world! Most of us do it. Not warm water but hot-out-of-the-kettle water.

5. I'm a sequential eater. Not in the scientific sense, but if separate, different foods are on my plate, I'll eat one at a time. I'd never take a piece of meat, add a forkful of potatoes and top it off with some veggies and put it in my mouth. Oh no, first a piece of meat - well even all of the meat. Then potatoes. Then the veggies.

6. I don't like to sleep in total darkness. I dislike the feeling of sensory deprivation. Usually I leave my bathroom light on. Which also helps in avoiding broken toes as I navigate to the loo a couple of times a night to pee!

Well, now I'm supposed to tag six people. I'd rather just say, for those of you who visit and haven't yet been tagged, would you like to give this one a go on your blog?

What Do I Miss?

Oh so many things.

The tactile nature of the two of us together.

The sharing of thoughts, even silently.

The awakening of all my senses.

The passion with which we connect.

The conversation, the laughter, the tears.

Looking into his beautiful eyes, seeing his gorgeous smile.

His kisses, oh how I miss those kisses of his!

But, most of all, I miss sharing space with him.

I miss being in the same room, or in the same car.

I miss sitting next to him in a restaurant booth.

I miss looking over at him, to find him looking at me.

I miss looking at him until he finds me looking at him.

I miss the way we lock eyes and then both smile.

I miss the way we fit together in every way possible.

I miss the comfort of him being close.

I miss just being with him.

I miss him.

And yet, I don't. Because no matter how many miles or time zones separate us, nothing can separate us.

Shadows

Larger Than Life
Camels cast long shadows under the late-day sun as they search for grass in Oman.

Photograph by George Steinmetz, published in National Geographic. Taken in February 2004 on assignment for National Geographic, this photograph shows a unique aerial perspective of The Empty Quarter, the world’s largest sand desert. George Steinmetz took the picture looking straight down while piloting his motorized paraglider near Wadi Mitan, a remote part of Oman close to where Saudi Arabia, Oman, and Yemen meet. Since it first appeared in National Geographic, it has been included in numerous additional publications and exhibitions.

Update: Jac posted the most beautiful comment, that I want to share here in case you don't click on the comments link:

Jac said...
I had a bad night sleep last night. So in the morning when I looked at this picture it made me think that the camels are our consciousness, and the HUGE shadows are our worries, fears, concerns, expectations. Just as our worries loom large but are really only illusion, so it is in life. Sometimes the world doesn't even get to see the real us for all the shadows we cast around!

Goodnight To A Mother's Dream

I love this song, especially the lyrics. Actually I prefer the lyrics without the music, as poetry. It resonates.

Goodnight To A Mother's Dream
~ Nanci Griffith ~

Flippin' bottle caps through the ring around the moon
All alone on a Saturday night with the stars in bloom
Built this house out in the hills
All by my own will
I am a vision of my mother's dream come true
I've got love enough for two
But it's just me and this old moon

...They all want the captain's daughter
They want her beauty and her youth
And the sailors on the water
To grace their bow out on the sea
Me, I'm getting older and I'm plain
As plain can be
Got a bank full of mother's dreams
Maybe mother just didn't see

That love would be the only thing
Her daughter would ever need

Oh, I am the heart not taken
I am the late blooming rose
The one thought not worth breakin'
With only her mother's dream to hold
Who really knows
On this less travelled road
...Maybe the hearts not taken
Are truly made of gold

I'm gonna flip one more bottle cap up at the moon
But, when I go inside I'm gonna let my back door slam
I've got an early call with so much work to do
Mother, to tell you the truth
I would trade your dream away

Just to hear some loved one say
I love you, too

Say goodnight to the moon
I'll say I love you to the moon...
'Buenos sueños' to the moon
And to my mother too

Vroom Vroom

This morning on the way to work, in the space of five minutes, I saw not one, but TWO of these magnificent beasts, a red one and a yellow one.

And I couldn't help but laugh. Here we were, sitting in traffic, at times moving at a snail's pace. It's not like they could ever be driven properly anyway, the maximum speed limit is 50kph (30mph) in the urban areas and only up to 100kph (50mph) on our highways, of which there aren't many.

Just sitting idling, waiting for the traffic light to change, I could not only hear the ferocity of that engine, but I could feel its power vibrating down into the road surface and then up into the taxi, along the backs of my thighs. Yes, a VERY nice feeling!!

But it was all I could do not to laugh at the absurdity of owning a car like that here, where gridlock is the order of the day during rush hour. And I've seen both cars before, they take a similar route to me - a five minute drive to work and a 10-15 minute drive home. In traffic. Heavy traffic at times.

What a waste.

By the way, is it true that the red ones go faster?

The Redcoats Are Coming...The Redcoats are Coming

No, not the Brits.....but the rotund elderly gentlemen with long white beards.

First, I noticed in the card shop, a whole section of birthday cards replaced by Christmas cards.

Then, I noticed the Christmas decorations beginning to appear around here.

I couldn't help but notice on my UA flight back to Hong Kong, that they were piping in Christmas carols as I boarded.

And my ears did not fail me the other day, when I noticed Anuja adding in some Christmas tunes to her repertoire (she sings a lot at work). I do believe I heard her own rendition of 'Do They Know It's Christmas?'. And yes, she sings all the parts.

But today at Starbucks, when my grande-skim-latte-with-an-extra-shot-please came in a red paper cup with an insulating sleeve decorated in white with red snowflakes, I knew that Christmas will soon be upon us. I skipped the gingerbread or eggnog flavouring options - all I can say is yuck-yuck-yuckity-yuck to that.

But I did have a cranberry scone and THAT is one of the best things about Christmas to me.

Ho Ho Ho.

Beta Boop

Sometimes I should just sleeping dogs lie. Or perfectly functioning blogs be.

I took the plunge and 'upgraded' to beta. Closed my eyes and pressed the button. Peeked with one eye, it looked exactly the same. Opened both eyes - yup all is good. Then....

When I went to add a comment to a post, that popped up - "The blog you were looking for was not found. Back to the Dashboard". My eyes went very wide at that point and I thought well poo, now I've lost all my comments?!

After fiddling around a little, it seems that the comments are only 'not found' in the Current Posts page and if you go to archive for November 2006, which of course includes current posts, you can see and add comments there.

Damned if I can figure that out but I've left a comment on the Blogger Help Board and let's see what comes from that.

Please don't give up commenting where you wish, and reading those who have. I'm afraid right now though, you'll have to click on November 2006 under Archive, to do so.

I suppose it could be worse. But it could also be one hell of a lot better too!

Update: Well that issue seems to have been resolved, thank goodness. However now it seems it's not possible to navigate back to my blog from my comments left on other blogs (mostly, I have seen one exception). While my profile settings are correct to be able to do that, it seems beta blogger doesn't care to oblige!!

Final Update: My profile link on comments at other blogs is now fixed. All systems are now go and thanks to the Blogger support team for their help!

Sotto Voce

There is nothing more wonderful than sharing soft loving whispers as I look into the eyes of the man I love. And to see his eyes looking back at me, returning that love tenfold.

To hold and be held in the deep of the night, without being enveloped in darkness. To leave the light on when we sleep so that if we wake, we will not miss a second of being able to see each other.

To breathe in his scent, his essence, while his breath pulls mine into his body. To taste him on my tongue and know from his soft moans that he is tasting me on his.

To caress his entire body with mine, from his toes to the top of his head. To stroke with the lightest of touches, every inch of bare warm flesh that I can reach.

To kiss away the tears from the corners of his eyes, as he does mine, when our emotions overflow. And while we do that, to smell the gentle scent of a dozen perfect red roses filling the room.

To trace the sign of eternity over his heart with my fingertip, when I tell him that I love him. And for our eyes to meet in silent understanding of the gravity, the joy and the inevitability of our love.

To hear the voice I now know so well, express his deepest thoughts and desires. The masculine strength of it, the way it breaks a little when his heart feels like it will melt. To listen to his every breath and the beauty of his laughter.

To fall asleep gazing upon the face of the man I love, and for it to be the first thing I see when I wake. And to kiss without having to move, that is how close I have rested in his arms.

To reflect on the words of Kahlil Gibran every single day:

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

This man blesses my life by being a part of it.
This man fulfills my need to love and to be loved.
This man tells me I deserve goodness and then offers it to me.
This man appreciates me as much as I appreciate him.
This man is comfortable in silence with me.
This man embraces and engages the totality of me.
This man's heart beats with mine.
This man.....this man.

Sotto voce, tesoro mio.

The Other Man In My Life

Lupo. My adored little boy. I took this picture a few days after I found them. This is him (on the right) with his brother Love (pronounced loo-vay) who was adopted by a friend and now lives in Sweden.

I found them when I was living in Tenerife, abandoned and dumped just outside where I was living. The vet reckoned they were about four weeks old at the time and Lupo was very very sick, he couldn't even keep water down. I was told not to get too attached to him. Well you can see even in that photo that he wasn't quite as bright-eyed as his brother. I was working all day in the dive centre and when I'd take them out for walkies, each one fit in the palm of my hand. Those are cat harnesses they're wearing in the photo, that's how tiny they were and all long legs and feet and ears!!

I really was so worried about Lupo, he was getting weaker and weaker and then one day, about 10 days after finding them, he threw up and out came about three feet of cling wrap!! They must have been living on garbage but how they survived to even four weeks amazes me. After that he came along leaps and bounds.

I nursed them along and they were in my life 24/7 for the first four months and then a friend adopted his brother. I hadn't planned on having a dog as I had two cats already, but there was no way I could ever even think about giving him up by then. When my sister came over to run the business for me, she brought her little Jack Russell, an East-London dog she named Shaz. This is the two of them in their 'scuba' gear!!

Of course he has had his very naughty stages, like the time I bought him a new ball

and this happened to it - don't you love the look on his face? No it wasn't me, honest it wasn't...ummm ok ok and I feel so bad *L*

mmmmmmmmmmmm do I see steak?

My boy just loves the mountains

and the beach
but his favourite is the snow which he gets to run in once a year when the snow collects on the top of Teide (the volcano on the island)

and all that fun does make for a very yawny dog

and that of course means crashing with his 'sister' at the end of the day in their own chair

No matter how long I'm away from him, he always gives me the most wonderful welcome when we see each other again. Although he's now more my sister's dog than mine as she's had him for the past six years, while I was in his life for only the first year, we will always have that bond. He's so wonderful, one of those intelligent, kind, sensitive dogs. I do love him so.

And I'll be seeing him soon. January or February I'll be visiting him in Tenerife and my sis and I plan on having a vacation then, probably going over to La Gomera or El Hierro or La Palma (other islands in the Canaries) as they can be reached by ferry and the dogs get to go too!

My Lupo. My adored boy. Not only by me, but by everyone who meets him.

Cough....Splutter....Sneeze....Honk

On my flight last Friday, there was a woman sitting on the plane one row back and over to my left. She sneezed and hacked her way across the Pacific and damn her I think she infected me.

I felt a little congested while I was away but on Monday morning as I began my journey home, it started in earnest. I knocked myself out with cold/flu tabs on the 14-hour plane ride (headwinds added 3 hours onto the journey westwards), which in itself was a good thing as I hadn't slept while travelling eastwards, so at least I arrived home without feeling too jet-lagged.

I went to work on Wednesday and managed to crawl through the day but yesterday, it took me down and it took me down hard. I called in to work to say I'd try to get there in the afternoon but Nooj threatened to lock the doors if I even attempted it. Trust me, I'm not a wuss and I don't do the 'I'll just stay home in bed' routine easily. But anyway, I DID stay home in bed, medicated myself, went through almost a whole box of tissues and generally slept and lazed. Thank goodness for bootleg dvds!

Back at work today and while the congestion is definitely better, it has moved down my throat into my breathing tubes.....ouch ouch ouch. I'm dosing myself now with Pei Pa Koa syrup which is the best thing in the world.


If you ever see this on a shelf somewhere, grab a bottle. Mix some in with hot water and drink it down and you will feel it working right away. An all-natural remedy containing 15 herbs and man it tastes SO GOOD!!

But you know, not even feeling ill can dampen the joy, the delight, the magnificence of being loved by the most amazing man I've ever known.

The Real Deal

Love. Fulfilling love. Healthy love. Mature love. Fun love. Balanced love. Comfortable love. Deep love.

I used to think I knew what love was. I used to think I'd experienced it in my life. I used to think it had come and gone. Everything I've ever known or thought I understood, has paled in comparison to what I'm feeling now.

Two days of the most soul-searching, passionate feelings. Laughter until there were tears in our eyes. A silent awareness of things shared. Common thought and common understanding, of a most uncommon intensity. Touches and caresses that went beyond the patch of skin involved.

I know what love is now. Forgive me if I don't share much more than this here, but it's just so deeply private and personal. Plus, in any case, I can't quite put words to it. I'm too busy just feeling so very loved right now.

And he is, quite simply, the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Kisses Met

It's time to head to the airport.

This, in the words of a very good friend, is kismet. Or kisses met. I like that!

I'll see you all in a few days. Be safe and be happy.

WTF??!!

A typhoon (hurricane) in November???????

I'm scheduled to fly out on Friday just after noon. And now THIS mofo is sitting out there.

In its latest advisory, the JTWC has favored a track towards South China near Hong Kong, Macau, and Guangzhou; landfall is suggested for Friday, local time.

TYPHOON (TY) 22W (CIMARON), LOCATED APPROXIMATELY 270 NM SOUTH-SOUTHEAST OF HONG KONG, HAS TRACKED NORTH-NORTHWESTWARD AT 04 KNOTS OVER THE PAST SIX HOURS.

Yes, that's correct. It's south-southeast and is moving north-northwest. I'm sitting on the coast where you see a sort of ^ indentation, just to the right of that.

I know it's selfish of me to be worried about my trip when storms like this cause such havoc and devastation, but excuse me while I express myself.....*&^%$#@+&^%*


Update (Wednesday afternoon):

CIMARON HAS TRACKED WEST-NORTHWESTWARD AT 04 KNOTS OVER THE PAST SIX HOURS .

Well at least WNW is better than NNW or NW but it still doesn't seem to have chosen its path yet.


Update (Wednesday night):

MOVEMENT PAST SIX HOURS - 360 DEGREES AT 01 KTS

Basically it's just sitting there


Update (Thursday morning):

MOVEMENT PAST 12 HOURS - 045 DEGREES AT 01 KTS

The JTWC is still going with a path towards southern China. But the starting point for the forecast track is necessarily farther east. Once again, forecasters at the JTWC have acknowledged that there are at least two likely solutions to the problem of Cimaron and its ultimate destination. Another path is for the stalled typhoon to loiter over the open South China Sea, ultimately getting squeezed toward the southwest by high pressure building over China. There is a small possibility of Cimaron heading northeastwards and it may become a weakening storm buffeted and broken by shearing winds, including a drift toward the west and south -- over the South China Sea for at least a few days to come.

There it still sits, no matter what, it's too far away to ground my plane now - Girls the dance worked!!!! THANK YOU!!!!


Final Update (Thursday evening) - No threat to my travel plans. I'll be going home soon to pack, and to primp and preen .... and hopefully get a good night's sleep.

Respect and Appreciation

I have a relationship with my mother that is neither comfortable nor loving, as I have described before. However, yesterday she gave me an unexpected gift. The gift of respect and appreciation.

When my parents drew up their wills many years ago, I was named Executor in both. It was what my dad wanted. When he passed away, I got quite involved with making sure everything was done properly, mainly because the lawyer was such an eejit (Scottish for idiot). It didn't make matters any easier that it was a will drawn up here while it was still under British control (and it's now a Special Administrative Region of China), so we had to jump through a few hoops to get it re-validated to satisfy Scottish law.

Since then, my mother has drawn up another will, to make things easier when the time comes. She had never told me about it, nor that my brother had been named Executor. She'd told my sister and my brother, naturally, locking me out of the entire process for some reason. When my sister let slip, not knowing I hadn't been told, it hurt but I figured there was nothing I could do about it and no point in even questioning it. When she finally told me, she said only that she'd signed a new will and so I asked for a copy as I'd had copies of them both before. She said yes, she'd send it to me, but it never came.

Yesterday, she called me and asked me if it would be OK to put me in as Executor instead of my brother. I said yes, of course, it makes more sense with my easier access to communications, my ability to throw time and expense at the issue if necessary. Even then I was trying to give her a comfortable 'out' as to why my brother was her original first choice. She hesitated and said no, it's because I think you are the one best suited to take on this responsibility.

I don't know if something has happened to make her wary of my brother having the role, or if she felt badly that she wasn't honouring my dad's wishes. Whatever her reason, I feel respected, appreciated, valued.

Maybe this is her only way of showing love. But more likely, it's because I'm the one with the least vested interest and I'm also the most practical of her children. The best one for the job, so to speak.

The Double Ninth

Today, we are celebrating (read that as official holiday) the Double Ninth or Chung Yeung Festival. The ninth day of the ninth month in the lunar calendar, which this year falls on October 30.

A traditional Chinese festival, wrapped around the concept that according to the I Ching, nine is a yang number and therefore the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, or double nine, has too much yang (a traditional Chinese spiritual concept) and is thus a potentially dangerous date. To protect against the danger, it is customary to climb a high mountain, drink chrysanthemum wine, and wear a plant named zhuyu.

Well, I live half way up a little mountain so I'm figuring that will count towards satisfying that criteria. I'll have a chrysanthemum tea (vs wine), which is delicious, but as I'm not really into wearing plants, I'll give the zhuyu a miss.

In these more modern times, many families take this opportunity to do a second round of grave sweeping or ancestor worship (the first being the Ching Ming Festival, 104th day after the winter solstice, which fell on the 5th of April this year).

But I'm here at work (and blogging just a little as a respite from a very intense couple of hours spent doing an international benefits survey) because I need to get really caught up as.....

drum roll please

I managed to convince my boss that I can actually be away for a few days so I'm taking to the skies again and will be gone from Friday until next Tuesday. No disappointment this time and 'he' has managed to organise things at his end too. We're both overwhelmingly happy at the way this has all worked out.

I'll only get there in the evening on Friday and I've got an early Monday flight to start my journey back home. Is it a long way to go to spend just a weekend? Yes, it is. But sometimes you just have to step over the threshold of that open door and embrace what lies beyond it.

My arms are open and I know his are too.

1. A World of Time and 2. Doogooder

1. Well you've all just moved an hour further away from me!!! We don't change our clocks here any more, so while I had my usual night's sleep (OK it was the weekend I got a little more), you have all had an extra hour in bed. I hope you made the most of it either by going to sleep later or by waking up at the usual 'time' and taking advantage of an hour more in bed!!

2. Doogooder is gone? Even his emails are being returned. Does anyone know what happened? He has a special place in my heart, being the person who got me into this blogging thing to start with. Wherever you are DG, if you read this, please be well and be safe. Let me know everything is OK, if you can.

Sometimes I Hate My Job

Just sometimes. Like today. Well, not my whole job, just a part of it.

Today the powers that be decided two managers would lose their jobs. Through no fault of their own. By being casualties of decisions to change their jobs into something they don't fit. Jobs that were put there one year and six months ago, respectively. Jobs into which I lured these two people, from good solid long-term employment.

We used to be a lot more ethical than this. We used to know what we were doing for more than a year ahead of us. We used to treat people a lot better than this. We used to be a good, secure place to work. An organisation big enough to be powerful in its industry, and yet still small enough that we knew and cared about each other.

I've never enjoyed this part of HR, the firing part. I much prefer hiring, even if the interviewing process often exhausts me physically and emotionally. At least I get to talk of possibilities with people who are excited to be considered to work in what is, for here, a very long-established organisation with a very good reputation. Or was. Yes, perhaps the time has come to say was.

It's worse when these are promising, enthusiastic, good people. People who deserved better from us, better from me. I remember interviewing both of them. I remember telling them that this is a company which stands by its employees even in the bad times, such as when our business was so severely affected by SARS in 2003. Noone lost their job, noone had their pay cut, noone was put on unpaid leave, noone had to worry about still having a paycheque despite us having no customers.

I remember their delight at being selected as our final candidate and offered the job. I remember talking about their contracts with them. I remember their first day with us. I remember doing their one-month interviews with them, making sure everything was going well and finding out if there was anything else I could do to make them feel more at home here.

Don't get me wrong, I understand that employment is part of being in business and we are here for the shareholders and the profitabilty of the company. I know that contracts aren't promises, I know that we might need you today but not tomorrow. I know all that.

But now, I will have to be part of the process that tells them: Sorry, we just don't want you here any more. We have made other arrangements for your jobs, changed them, and you just don't fit what we want. And I will have to deal with their disappointment, fear, anger, disbelief, sadness, before it becomes just an acceptance, a beaten-down acceptance that they've been crapped upon. At the end I will have to collect back their cards and keys, get them to sign off when they receive their last paycheque. Shake their hands and wish them well. Often I'm the last person people see. The first they meet at the interview, the last to say goodbye.

I hate this, I really and truly hate it. Every time I have to do something like this, it hurts.

"Comfortable In You"

Interpersonal interactions become a joy rather than something to be feared when we are willing to be ourselves, gladly allowing others to see us for who we truly are. Self-consciousness is often the result of our attempts to play roles that require us to deny the very qualities that define our individuality -- we get mired in dread, concerned that others will reject us when they discover the truth that is us.

When we accept that we are unique and are comfortable with ourselves, we no longer feel compelled to hide all or part of ourselves to please others. In opening ourselves to others in this way, we can revel in the pure pleasure of relating to people comfortably and honestly without trepidation.

This is part of a recent Daily Om Inspiration. I like it. I'm very much 'me' everywhere. Day-to-day life, work life, blogging. Very much a WYSIWYG person. When roleplaying was introduced to the chatsite I used to frequent, I fell out with them because I found amusement in the lengths to which they assumed their roles in the Gor environment. I remarked that when they 'spoke' it reminded me of Jodie Foster as Nell with her 'chicopee'. But maybe I just don't have enough imagination?

I'm not 100 percent comfortable with my body - well after all who is? - as I've put it through a lot. But I'm pretty much there in my comfort level with who I am, having survived some very rigorous rocking of my boat (and not in a good way!).

I'm not one for masks or embellishment, or even smoke and mirrors. I like the plain view. And I like it in others too.


Aaaaah - what a lovely and perfectly timed update, from my Om Horoscope, just in:

If you spend time cultivating positive qualities like honesty, friendliness, and helpfulness within yourself, people in the various spheres of your life will likely hone in on the beauty inside your soul. You can create an aura of lasting loveliness around yourself today by simply striving to be the best person you can be at all times.

The beauty we cultivate within is the foundation of the exquisiteness others see when they look at us because inner loveliness is a powerful force. Regardless of the appearance we project outwardly, it is our inner selves that attract people and inspire tender emotions to manifest themselves in their hearts. When we focus on what lies within rather than what is on the outside, we demonstrate our understanding of the subtle forces that draw individuals toward one another.

The love we crave comes willingly into our lives, attracted by our compassion, sincerity, and insightfulness. We needn’t ever conform to others’ standards of beauty when we strive to achieve inner charisma. You’ll feel profoundly attractive today because you have taken the time to lovingly and meticulously groom your soul.

"Because you have taken the time to lovingly and meticulously groom your soul".... how beautiful!!

Red....Blonde....Brunette

I'm by nature, a redhead (on the lighter end of the spectrum). And yes I can prove it!!

My hairdresser likes to, as he puts it, 'brighten it up a bit'. Meaning he is dealing with the grey bits and puts three different highlights through it. During my holiday in Hawaii, I was out in the sun a bit and yes, I was very careful. I applied and re-applied my SPF30 on the bits that weren't covered (not many, I can assure you). But I never thought about wearing a hat and in not doing so, I've become a little bit blonde. Only in the colour of my locks.

Now I'm considering trying out how a brunette (on the red end of that spectrum) feels. I'm a bit worried though, that going darker will only serve to draw attention to my thinning pate!!! And I'm not sure how I'll feel about having mismatched carpet and curtains. Or how it will look when it grows out.

Maybe I should just buy a wig and try it out for a while.

To Be Disappointed...And To Disappoint

There is someone I care for and not just a little, but a whole helluva lot. Someone who is good for me, and good to me. Someone I hope I'm also good for and I definitely try to be good to, though I will admit that I sometimes miss the mark. 'To boldly go', in the realm of relationships, is not that easy for me. I've been let down so many times.

It's a complicated situation but we want to meet. We will meet. We were planning it to be next month but I was disappointed in that work won't allow me time away. And in turn, because of this, I disappointed him.

The strength of him and I, is our ability to see beyond the disappointment. And I'll admit, he bolstered me before I could bolster him. We're disappointed and I'm the source of the disappointment, but we both see beyond. To the day we will finally touch and kiss. And I believe that day will be the perfect day, the right day for us to do that.

I can only think that next month just wasn't the right time, that there was a reason for the disappointment. And he insists I could never be the source of any disappointment for him. In that very statement he does more for me than any other man has ever done, for he believes in me.

I want to live up to that expectation because he's very special. I hope that all my past disappointments have taught me how to not disappoint.

Could You Do It?

I've been on some 'glass floors' on platforms on tall buildings - but this, no way could I do this. And I live on the 35th floor!!

Grand Canyon Skywalk

Today

Today you would have been 74. Before the dark, painful, difficult days, it would have been just another Saturday to you. A day filled with promise, with books, with plans, with seeing friends, with walking the dog. I never even let myself consider, that the day you turned 72, it would be the last birthday I'd get to share with you. Those last few years were so terrible, that evil disease fighting to rob you of your life. And, sadly, although you met it head-on with such courage, such valour, such determination, it won.

The loss of my Dad.

This is your second birthday since you left. The second date marked in my diary when all I can do is think of you - and this year post about you. The second time there is no phone call of congratulations, no words exchanged about aging and love and how special you are to me. The second time that I have no gift for you, no silly card that makes you smile.

Today, I can give you only this gift. This gift of sharing you amongst my friends. This gift of telling people about the man who anchored me, who cherished me, who always called me 'Fi-Fi'. I was always his little girl no matter my advancing years.

My Dad, Craig. My wonderful, caring, patient father. Whom I not only take after physically but whom I take after inside. We have the same sense of humour, the same practicality, the same generosity. Just sitting in a room together, we shared. He was a self-made man, a provider to all. His funeral in Scotland, the home he returned to after 48 years, brought out so many people. People who hadn't had contact with him in almost that many years, but who continued to remember him with honour, friendship and pride. He filled the church that clear cold March day.

I read some words and we bowed our heads as we heard him spoken of. I upset the minister by insisting we sing 'Jerusalem' as it was his favourite hymn. For those in the know, you'll understand that all references to 'England' caught in the throat of the Scottish minister. But oh how my Dad would have laughed at that.

Happy Birthday Dad. I'll never stop missing you.

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.

And to end with a beautiful image - I love this pic of my Dad with my 'chosen sister', Nooj, (taken years ago at my wedding):

The Night I Lost My Internet Connection

After a long day out, Rhona and I got back to the room. I had my shower (I sleep in the nude but for the sake of decency with her around, I put on a longish t-shirt until bedtime) and vacated the bathroom for her. While she was showering I sat at the desk to check my work emails. I know, I know, I was supposed to be on holiday!

I'd brought my own notebook and had purchased the one-week special broadband connection package which allowed for easy log-in whenever I wanted to use it. I opened the cover, turned it on and waited for the connection prompt. It didn't appear so I did all I could to check it, and even resorted to that well-known IT expert tip of 'turn it off and back on again'.

Same thing again, no connection prompt. So I referred to the little card on the desk and it told me to contact their 24-hour technical support team at a 1-800 number. I spoke to a very nice man, Mike, who had me walk through it all again - and a few things I hadn't tried. This went on for quite a while and he was clearly as frustrated as I was. The conversation at that point went like this:

Mike: OK, let's unplug the modem and then plug it back in. It's located on the wall under the desk.

Me: OK, I'll put the phone down and do that. I'll be right back. (I proceed to slide off the chair and crawl under the desk on my hands and knees, finally locating the small plug on the wall.)

Rhona (just out the shower and no sign of me in the room): Fion? Fion?

Me (mumbling under the desk): I'm under the desk.

Rhona (clearly not having heard me has walked around the beds to the desk): OH MY GOD I CAN SEE YER ARSE. OH MY GOD FION GET YER BIG ARSE OUT OF ME FACE. FION WHAT ARE YOU DOING? (cackles of laughter)

Me (mumbling louder under the desk): Rhona I'm on the phone!!

Rhona (in fits of laughter): EEEWWWW EEEWWWW FION GET YER ARSE OUT OF ME FACE!!

Me (finally coming up from under the desk and grabbing the handset to shove in her face): Rhona I'm ON THE PHONE and if my arse was in your face you were putting your face at my arse!!

Rhona: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. (louder laughter)

Me: Hello Mike are you still there.

Mike: Yes Ms. A.

Me: Oh good. Well I've done as you say but there's still no connection. (And thinking now, what a lovely voice this man has and do I hear laughter in the background.)

Mike: Well as you've pre-paid for a week of service, I'll insert you manually, every day, for the rest of the week.

(Do you have ANY idea how hard it was for me not to respond to that??!!)

Me (in my sexiest voice): Why thank you Mike, that would be great.

Mike: You're very welcome.

Me: Mike, you've been so helpful and I just wanted to let you know that I think you have a really lovely voice.

Mike: Why thank you Ms. A. Be sure to call again if you need any more help.

Me: I'll be sure to call you.

Hmmmm....I wonder if Mike likes fat bottomed girls.


Sing along with me:

Oooh yeah them fat bottomed girls
Fat bottomed girls
Yeah yeah yeah
Fat bottomed girls
Yes yes

A Day Out With Rhona

We caught the local bus and travelled to the North Shore to spend the day, in the hope of checking out throngs of surfer dudes, only to find the beaches relatively deserted:

So Rhona quickly jumped into the frame to make the beach look a bit busier:

before taking the plunge (and wishing she'd brought her boogie board along):

But seemed pretty pleased with herself anyway:

Of course we weren't totally disappointed and this surfer dude kept us entertained a while:

Afterwards we went in search of food and drink and investigated the local delicacies:

only to settle for a while....here:

which of course required some sustenance more substantial than fruit and tequila concoctions:

We just caught the last bus back to Waikiki that evening...and she still wanted to hit the strip!!! That will be for another post.

Ignorance is Bliss

I'm still sorting out my holiday pics and will post some more soon, but right now something is bothering me and I need to get it off my chest (and no, it's not my sister's coconut bra!!). It's something that happened between my mother and I when I was in Scotland.

It's my aunt's birthday, so we (my mother, my sister and I) all trundle up to Edinburgh to take her out for lunch and spend the day with her. Lunch is great, everyone had a wonderful time and I had carefully positioned myself to the outside of the table (and spoken with the maitre'd on arrival) to make sure I can take care of the bill as my aunt is very forceful about 'paying her way'.

I manage, despite much waving of arms by both my aunt and I, and threatened assaults by both of us on the wait staff to 'give me the bill', to take care of it. My mother later berates me for doing that, saying she wanted to pay. I kindly pointed out that due to her location at the table, that would have been impossible as she was in the far corner and past my aunt. Therefore, I took care of it as I knew the plan was that my aunt would not, under any circumstances, be allowed to pay. I should have sensed that would not be the end of it.

Later that afternoon, there is some reminiscing about the early years in Scotland by my mother and my aunt (this, for me, is birth to age 2). They were talking about where they lived and so on and suddenly my mother comes out with "She was an awful baby, a real bitch (looking at me)." I was somewhat stunned at this reference to a baby as a "bitch" and said so. My mother continued on, referring to me again as an "absolute bitch" due to the fact I apparently cried and screamed a lot. To the point she wanted to throw me against a wall. She even said that when my dad came home from sea, he told her that he couldn't bring himself to even like me. I think that hurt the most.

I said, and this is indeed my understanding, that a baby doesn't cry for nothing, there has to be a reason for it. Oh no I was told, you were just a bitch. I was so stunned I really didn't know what to say. So my mother continues on about how wonderful my brother was, how if I wanted one of his toys, he gave me it even though she told him not to, with him saying "it's OK mum, I don't mind". And what a wonderful boy he was, and man he is. My eyes started to sting a little as my brother and I have a very ugly relationship about which I've posted before and about which noone in my family knows. What she does know is that he tried to kill me several times before I reached my teens and she often recounts these stories (the two she knows about, there was one other I never told her because he threatened me at the time) and makes jokes about them.

When I was in Hawaii with my sister, we spoke about our mother a bit, about dealing with her and how we can be there for her in the difficult months ahead. I was taken aback when my sister said: "You know Fion, mum's really really nasty about you." I didn't even want to ask how, or what she'd been saying. I'm the one who has been the most supportive, I made sure I was there with her when she got her diagnosis and was the one able to ask the important questions, the answers to which are what have helped her decide what she wants to do about her illnesses. I'm the one who shops online for her for things she can't get locally, who goes out of my way to think of things she needs or might like to have. Who does more than call her on a regular basis (which is all my brother does), instead trying to make sure her life is made more comfortable. Even my sister has asked me why I do all this for her if she doesn't appreciate it. I guess I feel duty-bound in some way.

Since my dad passed away, I like my mother less and less. I care about her less and less. It's almost as though she's fading away already. It's almost as though, too, her affection for me has disappeared since my dad left us. I wonder if the two things are related and if she ever even liked me, or just made a show of it because my dad loved me so much.

More about my mother

Should I continue to just swallow all I hear and be the respectful daughter during whatever days she has left? Should I tell her how her beloved son stole my childhood and fostered such fear in me, which she would probably choose to deny anyway? Or should I just do what right now I feel like doing, and avoid her as much as possible?

I no longer feel as though I'm losing my mother, I feel as though I never had one.

They All Said Yes

I sat at the table and asked questions of thee
I wasn't alone for with me were three
to my right sat my heart, tired and beaten, though with a will to fight
to my left was my soul, dazed and confused, lost in flight
across was my pride, strong and firm, and ready to go
pride jumped up and yelled "Let's get on with this show"

I asked "When he goes by how do you feel?"
Pride boasted "To me it's no big deal"
my heart smiled and stated "The way it's suppose to feel"
my soul flew high and said "As if he were free"

I asked "And when he is close enough for us to touch"
my heart leaped up and yelled "It's just too much"
my soul was off waltzing as if a great dancer
pride sat silent, she would give no answer

"And when in our arms and it's him we do hold?"
My soul sprang forth "The place I have searched for years untold"
my heart beat fast...fainted...and fell to the floor
pride just smirked, another question she would ignore

"And what would you ask him to give?"
Soul said "Nothing, he has already given me the will to live"
"Kindness and love" said my heart wearing an incredible grin
pride just mumbled "An occasional win"

I asked "And in return what would he receive"
my heart stood tall "If in me he would believe all the affection and love that I am able"
my soul answered "THIS" and threw herself across the table
then pride smiled and said "If he were by our side for him I would never be foolish and always step aside"

"One more question for all to reply and to this one nobody may lie"
"Is he our true love, you must now confess"
without hesitation, they all said "Yes"


~ written by a friend of mine ~

Charity Begins at Home

This is one of my bugbears.

I received in the mail, a lumpy envelope from World Children's Fund. Inside I found a letter, a donation form and....a very nicely constructed keychain with their logo. And a request that I make a donation "to help provide life-saving relief assistance".

I am returning the keychain to them in the postage-paid envelope provided, with a note advising them that I don't support charities which waste donations like this. To add insult to injury, there is even a little note on it postage-paid envelope: "Please help save money for the suffering children by affixing a stamp on this envelope".

I cannot abide charities that send 'gifts' to potential donors. The worst are those that send money and say "these coins could provide food for a child for a day". I always send it back and say....bloody well use it for that then!!!

Don't get me wrong, I support several charities, just not those that do this.

Grrrrrrrrrrr.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

On my last day in Scotland we had this magnificent rainbow which turned into a double after a little while:

oh and this is how close my mum's house is to the sea - washes up against the front wall. The green 'leaf' on the bottom of the window is a piece of seaweed!! From the wash of the tide onto the house (it sounds like someone is taking a sledgehammer to the outside wall):

12 Hours and a Creased Face

I slept!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh boy did I sleep. I managed to last until 4:45pm at work. Hell I even ran a medical insurance meeting and it was the strangest thing, almost like an out of body experience, I could hear myself as though it was someone else speaking!!! I don't remember too much about it, I just hope I haven't agreed to anything untoward.

I got home, immediately took a melatonin, got naked, turned on the air-con, crawled between the sheets and within 10 minutes I had crashed. And I woke up 12 hours later and I think I'd turned over only once during the night, if at all, because the right side of my face was all creased from my pillow. NOT an attractive look to go to work with.

But, I do actually feel human again. I am woman, hear me roar!!!