From the Sidewalk

Serious

2010-12-30T16:47:00.002+11:00

I was once accused of being incapable of being shallow.

I may have always been serious, or taken things seriously. I don't meant to say that I don't know how to laugh, make others laugh, or laugh at myself. There just are times when I can't bring myself to take things lightly.

It explains why, in the ten years I've been living in Australia, I have yet to take up citizenship. I came pretty close, in the period spanning the Kevin07 campaign, the Apology to the Stolen Generations, the signing of the Kyoto Protocol, and the Australia 2020 Summit. For the first time since I arrived in late 2000, ideas overrode fear and the future burned bright with promise. It was the sort of Australia that I felt I could belong to, where I was welcome, not just on paper but in spirit.

It didn't last long.

And then of course, I continue to be haunted by the sense that I don't have many friends here. I struggle to count on one hand the people I could comfortably call if I were distressed.

Back in September, I published a Facebook invite to a birthday and '10 years in Australia' BBQ on AFL Grand Final Day... but had to cancel as more and more knock-backs came through. People explained that they always watch the Grand Final with their family or a specific circle of friends.

In the middle of all this, a person whom I had deeply respected and who had been in my Christian Life Community (CLC) years ago, complained on Twitter that my Facebook posts about my child were "nauseating".

All this together gutted me. It was like a nuclear holocaust. How can I have been here this long and not have the sort of friendship that would compel people to turn up or accept that I love being a mum?

After a decade, I still feel like an outsider, though I do not seek to be one. I arrived a strange duck: young, married, non white female. I didn't know how to fit in, people didn't know where to fit me in, and they seldom found the time. Not when they already have a circle of friends with built-in memories from more than a decade back. I can't compete with that.

As a result, I don't have the necessary counterweight to the sort of things that politicians and opinion-makers say, that my students say, about who belongs here. Being a citizen won't protect me from some ningnong who decides to demonstrate his belief that I don't. And there are days, like cancelling the BBQ and reading that tweet, when I'd be inclined to agree with him.

I need to find a way for citizenship to make sense; it can't be based solely on my conviction. A citizen needs a community.

Nature tripping

2010-08-29T14:12:00.015+10:00

The district where we live seems to be better known for the treatment plant, the hoons and cheap housing. I'm not going to lie. Some of these aspects touch on our daily life. For example, maybe two days in a year, we catch a whiff of the sewage that makes its away to the Western Treatment Plant.

Yet Lake Borrie, located within the sewage farm, is an important wetland noted for high levels of biodiversity, second only to Kakadu National Park. At any one time, the treatment plant provides food and shelter to 65,000 birds (roughly 270 different species), some of which have migrated from as far as Alaska. So it's not just shit over there.

Which is probably what I'd generally say about where we live.

Two blocks from our house is Lollypop Creek. It used to be a watering hole for the old pastoralists. Strewn all over the east bank are massive rocks said to be volcanic in origin. There are gorgeous bends in the creek and serene spots to stop and take in the scent of gum leaves. Several families of ducks seem to reside permanently in the creek, adding to the idyll. We discovered the creek well after we signed the mortgage and I still remember our delight when the view opened up during an afternoon walk. What we were to realise over the years is that such spots are not rare in our area.

Werribee South Beach, as a second example, is only ten minutes' drive from our house. Its beauty is rough and craggy, even broodingly wild sometimes, unlike the sandy stretches of Ocean Grove. But who doesn't get moved by the open sea? The view is completely uninterrupted at Werribee South Beach, with no built infrastructure that abuts other shorelines in Melbourne.

Then there's the iconic Werribee River, five minutes from our house, which also provides heart-stopping views. As with Lollypop Creek, it is amazing in the afternoon, as the sun dapples the trees with shadows and birds start roosting for the evening.

The thing with these bodies of water is that they never look the same from one visit to the next. Never. There is always an angle that you previously missed or a detail that had been hidden until that moment. It helps me understand why urban marine developments have been extremely fashionable in real estate over the past seven or eight years. There is something about living close to natural, organic environments that is life-giving. [Which of course makes it ironic that we destroy much of it even as we try to carve out landscapes to suit our lifestyle].

I don't take for granted where we live. There are gifts at our doorstep, in our backyard, down the road. A nature trip is just a walk away.

Nearly 33

2010-08-28T14:22:00.011+10:00

At one point during last month's Girls Weekend, as we mellowed and wallowed in warm mineral springs in the evening, my friends and I talked about bucket lists.

I was a little hard-pressed to come up with truly interesting things. When I was heaps younger, I did have certain have-tos, like skydiving, scuba-diving, travelling to exotic places. When you're nine, the height of excitement is being able to see beyond your backyard, to do things that hold a shimmer of danger.

I mentioned some of these things to my friends that night but I felt my own lack of conviction. As a child, it was natural to aspire for adventure because I didn't have the means or money. I probably still don't have the means or money, but here I am in my 30s and I feel that missing out doesn't necessarily make me less fulfilled. I am absolutely thrilled for friends who do amazing things like climb steep rockfaces. But I really would have to drum up the envy.

The less glamorous part of my bucket list, getting married, having a child, having a house to call my home, having a steady job, these are the things I have been able to tick off. They're not inconsequential things.

Some people might say that I should hunger for more. I do have a couple of persistent dreams, but I'm just as happy dreaming them. Many good things in my life fell into place in their own time, despite how long or how hard I had wished for them.

I guess I'm living my own adventure, with its share of zany mishaps, thrilling discoveries, and awe-inspiring experiences. When I'm this grateful, it's hard to think of what else I could want.

[Photo: Carving in detail, Tasmania 2004]

I love writing

2010-08-15T17:08:00.007+10:00

It's a bit naff to say this, I suppose, because far too many people think they can write. I live with the dread that I may be one of these people. Obviously, enjoying writing is not the same as being good at it.

It's also probably a touch dishonest to say I love writing because I barely have time to do it. And I'm being dishonest even when I say that because I could arguably set aside the time. But I've yet to leave behind the provincial, islander streak that likes to sit back and wave at Time as it goes past. Being a wife, mum, teacher, housekeeper fills enough of my day. I'd like to write more, of course, far much more. I'd like to retire early so I can do so, if only it could fund the early retirement.

Recently, I was semi-drifting around the house after putting J to bed for his afternoon nap, thinking about the Australian election, the fear-mongering around taxes (again!). Started typing a piece out, which is how I sometimes sort public issues out in my head. Thought it was worth submitting. Around a couple days later, it got published. And generated some meaty comments, besides.

I love that. I love how something in my head turned into words that somebody then published, then a pile of other people bothered to respond. My mother once described me as 'cerebral.' I think that's relevant here. I do like the idea of having created something (an arrangement of characters/words that make sense) from nothing other than the neurons and synapses in my brain. How cool is that?!

Come on, that is pretty cool, right?

Photo: OK, so it's not relevant to the post. I just wanted to use it. It's a composite that I made using Photoshop.

Glorious July

2010-08-15T15:33:00.010+10:00

The previous month, it must first be said, put a serious dent in our wallets. This is not a trivial thing, as the family budget is not as elastic as we'd like it to be.

But three things fell in July and so it goes.

Snow weekend

The last family holiday before this one was in December, a summer staycation in the city. By April or May this year, we were definitely feeling the urge to get away, physically and mentally. It had been a while since we went up Lake Mountain for the snow, and we thought J was certainly due for an introduction to toboganning.

With not much else on the holiday itinerary we headed up the Maroondah, checked in at Black Spur Inn (which used to be a Cobb & Co. station in the 1880s), explored a bit of the bushfire-altered landscape of Marysville, then hired our snow gear at sundown. I think it was worth the long drive just to see the little one in full snow suit! Off to Lake Mountain first thing the following day, which is a good tip to avoid the huge crowds that stream in around mid-morning. J had a ball on the toboggan. I was a bit sad for him, though, because we couldn't make the snowman he wanted. It was early-ish in the season and we'd missed any fresh snowfall so the snow was densely packed. Next time!

The following day, we went via Acheron Way, through amazing, primeval forest to get to the Warburton Skywalk. During the drive, we spotted two wild lyrebirds (!) and stopped next to a lovely bend in the Acheron River. The Skywalk itself (also known as the Rainforest Gallery) was a wonderful experience. It starts from a peak of about 17 metres, and brings you all the way down to the forest floor. I could feel my lungs detoxifying in the middle of those ancient trees and ferns!

Mumford & Sons

I wrote previously about falling in love with Mumford & Sons. Not having forgiven myself for missing Jamie Cullum tickets when he was in Melbourne earlier this year, I snapped up tickets for Mumford as soon as online ticketing opened. I could hardly wait. R went with me, although he was only familiar with a song or two. That was to change by the end of the night. [Indeed, he may now be a bigger fan than I am!]

We realised that it was going to be a different concert [from the type we used to attend in our 'younger' days] the instant we walked into The Palace Theatre. The current building opened in 1912 and has undergone many redesigns and served different functions since, but the aesthetic -- from whence comes the charm -- remains. As a concert venue, it is simply gorgeous. And having arrived early, we were able to stake a neat spot 10 metres away from the stage, in front of the sound and light desk, a few steps up from what might be called the mosh pit [although the moshing that night didn't involve whiplash and such].

Boy and Bear fronted, and they were great. We won't mention the second support as they were rubbish. But man, the electricity that surged through the crowd when Mumford & Sons took the stage was something. And it didn't let up, in fact, it got turned up. We were played as well as a string on a fiddle by those boys. They were phe-no-me-nal. I'm just going to let that word cover everything, otherwise this post will end up longer than it has to be!

Girls Weekend

After stops and starts, this idea proposed to a few girl-friends fell into place surprisingly quickly. I think being able to use R's work colleague's beach house in Blairgowrie, Mornington sped things along, and it was clear everybody was desperate to have some time away. We were four young mothers and teachers just wanting uninterrupted sleep and a sleep-in, plus other perks like not having to put the dishwasher on or fold freshly-washed clothes.

In retrospect, the weekend really was that simple. Began with a shopping blitz at Harbour Town, drove down to the peninsula, stopped at Red Hill cheesery (more for me than the other three!) and Arthurs Seat lookout, settled in at the house, got pizza delivered, had a delicious couple hours at thermal mineral springs (hot). The following day started with a wander-in breakfast (and a vigorous run for two of the girls), then a wander around the Rosebud Trash and Treasure market (not without some goodies to bring home!), an indulgent pancake lunch back at the house, then on to the Sorrento ferry for home.

It was brief, as many good things seem to be these days. But it was good to have some Women's Business time.

So, like I said, we could probably have used the money elsewhere. But then you have to take opportunities when they present themselves. These events were certainly not wasted on us, which means the money was not wasted.

10.30pm deep and meaningful

2010-07-03T22:01:00.008+10:00

Recent events in the space of one week have raised some wonderings (wanderings?) about the human condition.

A friend of Hubs passed away. Doctors had not held much hope late last year, so to have had an extra six months has been a blessing for his family and friends, perhaps even for himself. I am an outsider to the circle, but as with these things, that seems to hardly matter. When somebody close in age to you dies, it hits. Especially when we're all still in our thirties, with young families.

A couple that I know from uni days had their first baby. I credit myself as having nudged them together during a theatre production, in which they were band members and I was a stagehand. Before performances, it was customary to say a prayer, holding hands in a circle, and I would manouevre so they would end up doing just that. To be honest, I don't really think I had to do anything to facilitate their love affair, but to see photos of their baby on Facebook is still enormously thrilling.

On a wider scale, Kevin Rudd was ousted and Julia Gillard installed as Prime Minister of Australia. Unfolding in the space of barely 24 hours, events fell like a meteor, changing the political landscape. One of the most highly popular PMs not even through his first term, Rudd dug his grave with his autocratic style, but party apparatchiks did the burying. That's how the first female Australian PM ascended.

Monumental, irrevocable events in the space of a week. It gives pause for thought.

One arrives at a paradox. Life is finite (death) and yet relentless (birth), while also being the primary condition for change.

The answer to the question of how to live, even why we live, might well lie in this paradox.

[Photo: King Island, 2005]

The Art of Looking Forward

2010-07-03T21:48:00.001+10:00

The Horror Year of 2009 left me with a few positive things, one of which came from a psychologist [oh yes, it was that bad]. He told me that I have to have something to look forward to.

This makes sense in more ways than one:
* It lifts me out of the sense of entrapment, of being overwhelmed by present anxiety and frustration. (A 'pull' factor amid that sinking feeling).
* It inserts a note of positivity during fretful periods of time.
* It positions the future as something that can hold good things, not just bad.

Implementing this strategy this year has involved little effort. Catch-ups with friends. Occasional days out with Hubs. Attending events that fit my interest, that are not at all tied to work or home.

The 'art' is in the doing, in taking concrete steps to mark the calendar with things that keep you looking forward. You're meant to do this before things start going lopsided, before the paralysis. It's worked for me.

[Photo: Taken in 2008 with a phone camera while walking our dog, Roger]

Tim Burton Love

2010-07-03T14:55:00.009+10:00

I think I've always loved Tim Burton.

It started with Beetlejuice. I may have been 10 or 11 years old. I was a little scared. I was definitely fascinated. The scared-fascinated thing was a new film experience. I remember the delicious feeling of chanting "Beetlejuice" twice, never making it to the third.

Batman was a bit of a blip. The films, I thought, were too dark, not thematically, but chromatically. I do remember feeling rather sorry for The Penguin, even though he was horrid. My "code name" during Kris Kringle one year was Selena Kyle. With Edward Scissorhands, I was distracted by the unnatural blonde-ness of Winona Ryder, but still shed a few tears when Edward was mistaken as a dangerous monster by the townspeople. I keenly felt the injustice of it. I connected with the idea of the need to be loved.

The Nightmare Before Christmas, Ed Wood, Mars Attacks!, and Sleepy Hollow brought about the coming of age of my Tim Burton Love. I started to truly understand and enjoy the quirkiness, the visual concepts and motifs, the narrative arcs. Burton was the first director whose signature style I recognised, well before I encountered and fell in love with Shymalan, Eastwood, the Coens. His style carries through big budget remakes (Planet of the Apes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), stop motion features (Corpse Bride), and book adaptations (Alice in Wonderland).

Distinction and consistency tend to be the hallmarks of artistic genius. Technical creativity and attention to narrative also are. Burton hits each of these marks. So when I found out at the start of this year that the MoMA exhibit of Tim Burton's work (concept designs, doodles, maquettes and costumes from the films, etc) was coming to the Melbourne-based Australian Centre for the Moving Image, I could barely wait.

Of course, when it finally opened last weekend, I had to buy an unlimited entry ticket. I've been twice already, and it doesn't finish until October. I've been soaking it all in a bit at a time. I may have been a fan before I ever stepped foot in the basement gallery, but I'm even more so now.

There's something liberating about viewing his sketches and other artwork. They remind me -- aptly enough -- of Lewis Carroll's poem Jabberwocky (which features in the original text of Alice in Wonderland, as well as frames some of the narrative in Burton's film version). The poem is built on made-up words that still somehow make sense because of sentence structure and phonic cues (what they seem to mean based on how they sound).

Burton's artistic sensibility across different media echoes this: his drawings seem completely strange and new, stretching conventions of form, and yet they still make sense. The strangeness is tempered by humour, which likely adds to the note of familiarity.

I am now strongly tempted to purchase a sketchbook and just experiment -- an utterly unexpected result. I am besotted.

Postscript: ABC's Kerry O'Brien interviews Tim Burton

Some articles that have been published this year

2010-06-20T16:34:00.002+10:00

Eureka Street
* Gillard student numbers don't add up
* Why NAPLAN boycott must happen

Australian Catholics
* Franco's Way
* Seeing with new eyes

I'm so lucky. I get to be wifey, mummy, Miss (teacher) and writer.

It's insane sometimes. But awful nice, too.

Oot and aboot: Supanova Pop Culture Expo

2010-06-20T16:11:00.005+10:00

[Yet another belated post, but a worthy one].

Australia has yet to have the equivalent of the San Diego Comic Con in the US (being moved to Las Vegas?), which has drawn gigantic crowds for the past few years and has become the place to launch or spruik new sci-fi movies. As a fledgling event, Supanova isn't too bad.

It has some of the elements of a geek/nerd/dork fest: comic book retailers and merchandise, signings by sci-fi celebs (James Marsden and Karl Urban, among others, in this year's Melbourne run), and cosplay. I think the third tends to be the highlight, interestingly driven by international students who spend months working on their costumes and accessories. This was certainly the case for us when we went there on our anniversary Big Day Out last April [Bubs spent the day with his cousins].

The moment we arrived at Flemington Showgrounds was a bit surreal, as people of all shapes and sizes walked, strutted, strode, glided along in elaborate attire. Characters from manga to anime to video games to cult TV shows (Firefly) to megafilms (Avatar) stood in queues, mingled, ate, drank, bought -- but most of all, posed. I've never had so much fun gawking at and taking photos of strangers as I did that day, totally guilt-free.

I'm hoping the event will continue to grow, find its legs, and be a true mecca for geeks, nerds and dorks, not just a commercial opportunity for entertainment companies. Those $40 autographs are ridiculous.

My son at two and a half

2010-06-20T15:05:00.005+10:00

One of the outstanding features of this stage in Bubs' life is his growing agility with language.

He has a repertoire of nursery rhymes that he mostly knows by heart: ABC, Baa Baa Black Sheep, Incy Wincy Spider, Miss Polly, I'm a Little Teapot, Five Little Monkeys Jumping on a Bed. Plus, the Wiggles songs inevitably picked up from Rhyme Time at the library and at playschool.

He regularly says "please", "may I", "ta" and sometimes - unprompted - will say "bless you", "welcome home", and "I love you". He likes to "talk about day" before being putting to bed. I've seen him a few times explaining/storytelling pictures from his books to himself. I enjoy drawing sessions with him because the conversation gets so delightful.

He is an absolute sponge; we're definitely having to be careful about what we say around him because he mimics or participates, and sometimes that can be inconvenient for us!

He understands so much that when he acts unreasonably (which happens so rarely), it can be frustrating. I have to step back and remind myself that he's not even three, that he's entitled to be self-contradictory and fickle, that his control over emotions is only just developing even as they magnify. Fortunately, a tight cuddle usually does the trick, as well as a firm voice that explains what's going on and what's happening next.

The other interesting thing that we're noticing is his emerging sense of humour, as in jokes and tricks. He deliberately puts on a mock-frown sometimes, which makes me chuckle no matter how hard I try to resist, and he breaks out smiling afterward, saying "I make mummy laugh." He gets a kick out of pretending to cry, too. It's an infernal racket, but he seems to enjoy the pretence (we may have another actor in the family). He was sitting on my lap one evening when he started flailing around, giggling, doing half-roars, then said "I crazy!"

I looked at his baby pictures in our family annuals today. In cognitive terms, I can connect the images with the real, live toddler that he is now. But when I do it the other way, looking at Bubs in person, it's strange to think he was ever a helpless baby. It's even stranger to think about how much further he has to go. I can't even begin contemplating what kind of person he'll be in ten years.

I can't wait to find out. But right now is also splendid.

My husband is several kinds of genius

2010-06-20T10:23:00.003+10:00

I don't think there's anything that Hubs can put his mind to that he won't be able to accomplish. The word 'polymath' doesn't get applied too often these days when specialisation is key, but he's certified.

Let me try to list what he's done/is capable of:

He's an artist.
He's worked as a graphic designer. Sometimes when we hang around Geelong, he'll still see logos/branding that he created for local businesses. When the internet boomed in the early Noughties, he was able to fuse his design and programming skills in developing websites. The designer in him still breaks out when he makes amazing birthday cakes for kids. Like the Timmy cake for Bubs' second birthday [pictured].

He's a performer.
He once worked in radio. OK, so it wasn't mainstream, and he was a volunteer talent. But the occasional 'radio voice' is an enduring legacy from this stint. He has also been a puppeteer. There's a suitcase in the garage full of hand puppets that have travelled around with him (and on a few occasions with a troupe of performers) to present plays at church services and events. He is an amateur actor. I think this is something he inherited from his dad. His last official board-treading was at Eltham Little Theatre in 2002/03, but he occasionally gets called upon for roleplays at his mum's church.

He's a leader.
Wherever he has worked, he improved systems. At the printing company where he previously worked as a designer, he wrote a piece of software that helped digitise the way orders and supplies were managed. In his current role at an IT security company, he directs product development for major clients like Zoos Victoria and Baker's Delight. He also runs the Geek Herding website which covers issues related to IT management.

He's a handyman.
Being a problem-solver is a core part of Hubs' nature. When our two-year old started talking, one of his first sentences was "Dad fix (whatever needs fixing)." He has also turned candlesticks and bowls on his lathe. Back in the days when we were super skint newlyweds, instead of buying things, he'd make them with not much more than timber, hammer, screwdriver and glue. More recently, he designed the scheme for and painted Bubs' room, and built the enclosure for our doggy kennel/run.

These cover only the obvious things. I feel fortunate and proud to have a partner who has such varied interests and skills. To be honest, I had intended this post to be about the cakes that he has made, but then I started thinking about all these other things he could do. He's phenomenal and I wanted to celebrate him.

2010 Resolutions -- checkpoint

2010-06-18T00:35:00.006+10:00

This year, I made the following promises to myself:
1. Do not panic.
2. Have something specific to look forward to.
3. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
4. Be brave.
5. Be thankful.

I think I'm doing well. I mean, really really well. I hit a bit of a mid-year slump a few weeks ago, as winter crept in with its dour clouds and cold mornings, I was still in a work setting that made my heart weep for other things, Bubs got hit with seasonal viruses, I was missing my family. Et cetera.

But.

1. I did not panic when work pressures hit. The world did not collapse around me.

2. I'm looking forward to the Tim Burton exhibit at ACMI, going away for a winter holiday with Hubs and Bubs, then going away again for a girls' weekend. Mumford & Sons concert coming up in five weeks or so, and the following month, a talk by Fatima Bhutto. I'm being pulled forward.

3. I've learnt to think less about what I haven't done, and more about what I have. This way, I get to have my little 'yey!' of achievement every now and then.

4. I'm rocking the boat a bit at work, I think. It's an extremely uncomfortable spot for me, as I don't like calling attention to myself. But calling it boat-rocking (sometimes windmill-tilting) makes it OK, somehow.

5. Not as consciously as I should be.

How are your resolutions going? What's the first half of the year been like? What lies ahead for you?

[Image: Photo taken in Tasmania in 2004, rendered in Photoshop]

Belated 'Waiting for Godot' post

2010-06-18T00:01:00.006+10:00

First. LOL.

I wrote the title and realised how apt it was. Anyway.

We saw Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot at the Comedy Theatre last month. I thought we weren't going to be able, as we went through our normal roster of babysitters and got nowhere. Luckily, it turned out that our neighbours were quite happy to look after Bubs while we were at the matinee.

I would've been sorely disappointed if we hadn't managed to see it, given that Estragon and Vladimir were played by Ian McKellen and Roger Rees. But there was so much else about the play that pulled me.

We studied it in Philosophy class back at uni. I had the good fortune of being taught by Mona Katigback, who was involved in theatre, and thus used plays to introduce us to confronting concepts like absurdity (hey, we were sophomores steeped in Catholic culture, of course meaninglessness was confronting). Godot represented futility, uncertainty and I guess learning to be comfortable with these things bent my mind a bit -- for the better.

Then of course, the appeal of watching McKellen live onstage was immense. I still remember being moved by his performance as James Whale in Gods and Monsters (1998), for which he was nominated for an Academy Award. He went on to portray Gandalf in Peter Jackson's film adaptation of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. Gandalf is a monumental character, with demigod qualities. McKellen was pitch-perfect. (Interesting aside: He plays Magneto opposite Patrick Stewart's Professor X in the X-Men films; they had also worked opposite in another production of Godot).

McKellen and Rees' individual performances were a pleasure to watch, but the way they bounced off each other even more so. They were so attuned, that even the occasional theatricality seemed organic, natural. And very funny. I think something in the humour made the dark and disturbing bits even darker and more disturbing.

I have to say, in honesty, that it was also a bit of a slog. But only because it had been forever since I last saw a play, and Godot is quite demanding. My brain didn't quite find the gear until halfway through Act One. The other thing that made it difficult for me was that my hearing is slightly impaired, and while it was nice to be in B Reserve up in the Special People mezzanine, I sometimes had to strain to follow the dialogue (no overhead microphones, very old-fashioned).

Still, it was a thrill.

Weddings plus

2010-04-20T18:32:00.005+10:00

A friend from university got married on Sunday. I remember a conversation with him back then about relationships. I'm no longer sure about the context, but it must have had something to do with crushes. He had many. But he was very clear on one point, that if he were to have a girlfriend, that she would be The One. I may have argued that this raises very high expectations for himself and for the girl, that maybe it's asking too much. He replied that there was no point in wasting somebody's time -- why enter into a relationship that isn't bound to last? Or words to that effect.

Only now, looking back, do I have a sense of his heartbreak when he did take a leap and missed the other side. We've sort of lost touch over the years, so I have no sense of the journey (there's that word) that led him to the woman who is now his wife. But I can only be thrilled for him and for them. There will and should always be room in the world for one more love story.

I've always been in awe of weddings. Getting married is one of the most heart-achingly hopeful things that human beings, in their imperfection, do. The will to commit, combined with vulnerability in stepping into the unknown... it's inspiring. Insane.

We celebrated our own wedding anniversary last weekend. Nine years. I cringe a little when I remember what I was like in the early years, how we were as a couple. It takes a while to learn how to be a unit, and that process happens differently for each relationship.

The funny thing is, having been one of the first few to get married among my peers, I used to say in sage-like tones to newlyweds: The climb can be tough, but the view is fantastic. I thought I knew so much then, but this statement seems to ring even more truly for me now.

Where we stand, there's much to celebrate about the past, and much to look forward to. Especially looking forward to the 'growing old together' part. What the view would be like then!

Autumn garden in brief

2010-04-03T22:53:00.008+11:00

The summer veggies have gone to the Summer Veggie Patch in the Sky, and consequently ripped out to make way for cottage garden flowers. Hubs first suggested this changeover a while ago, given that the usual veggie bed is in direct line of sight from the front door (that is, when the laundry door is open). As is the case with marrieds, suggestions are only made worthwhile when they are seconded by somebody else. My mum did the honour, when she and dad stayed with us recently. So off we went to Bunnings to get some cottage-y shrubs. These have instantly made our backyard seem cosy, even though they haven't quite grown in yet. One of them is the penstemon pictured left. It has a rather pleasant scent, which fits right into what has become quite an aromatic backyard.

Apart from the lemon (leaves), mint, and thyme, there are the herbs pictured here: chives, sage and rosemary. I used to carry Jack around the garden when he was a baby and crush different leaves for him to smell. He now occasionally still picks bits off plants and bring them to his nose, sometimes with amusing results. In summer especially, the scents attract butterflies and bees, which adds to the whole summer-y atmosphere. They're particularly fond of the alyssum (below), as am I. Apart from the perfume, the combination of daintiness and hardiness is rather charming. I planted the purple variety several months ago as an accent to the white, and it's starting to pull off, especially as the bark mulch bleaches (due to age and the elements).

There are other botanic additions not pictured in this post. There's a native hibiscus next to the back fence, which I hope will survive that strangely hostile spot. Dad, by the way, painted the fence gunmental grey, a wonderful foil for the different shades and textures of green along it. In the courtyard are one fledgling "mozzie blocker," sedums, and another native bush that I can't identify from memory as I write. We still hope to put a deck in courtyard, so I've kept to the non deck areas in my planting. All the foliage, once grown, will enclose the space quite cosily. I'm so looking forward to it. I'm a big believer in having organic spaces, and being closely involved with the earth in some form.

After all, gardening is like a cup of tea for the soul. You have to take your time. And in taking time, you give yourself permission to just be.

What I'm listening to

2010-04-03T20:36:00.011+11:00

My current bugbear about the music industry is the overproduction of vocals. I understand that some level of engineering has always occurred. After all, the 1980s was marked by the profligate use of synthesisers. But has anyone noticed how much (some) singers sound like robots now?

Hello, Auto-Tuning and other nifty buttons and levers. Have a proper listen -- compare the modulations in the singer's voice when they sing and when they speak. If there's a marked difference, one that can't be attributed to the notes of the song itself, then there's every chance that you're not really hearing music so much as a cocktail of sounds made by a studio mixer.

Fortunately, there will always be musicians amongst singers. They're easily identifiable by the centrality and strength of their voice against the accompaniment. You get the sense that if they were asked to perform an acoustic or a capella version of any of their songs, that the music would still soar, or be even more moving for its lack of embellishment.

Compare, for example, the album version of Good Charlotte's "I Don't Want to be in Love (Dance Floor Anthem)" with their performance on Australian Idol last year, with a violin quartet and an acoustic guitar:

Amazing right? I nearly cried when I heard the acoustic version.

I'm actually quite catholic in my taste in music. I bop to Taylor Swift with the same vigor that I belt out Pink songs (both in the privacy of my car). But to become a fan is to fall in love; each time you hear a new song by the same musician, it's like falling all over again. Everything feels right: the melody, the rhythm, the lyrics, the way the song makes you feel, what you think it means.

So lately, I've fallen in love with:

* Mumford & Sons - The Cave did it for me, after a bit of courtship with Little Lion Man. Their songs have such fresh melodies and are deeply lyrical. The literary references and spiritual undertones are not lost on me, either.

* Kate Miller-Heidke - Reminds me of Katie Noonan in her george days. Caught in the Crowd is deceptive in its lightness; the notes are pretty complex.

Who have you fallen in love with recently?

Eeep!

2010-03-31T10:34:00.002+11:00

Oh my poor neglected blog... I'm so sorry that I have not been attending to you. My life has been given over to Twitter and Facebook, not because you are less worthy, but because you require deeper reflection. This requires time. Uninterrupted, lengthy periods where I can process my experiences and observations for articulation here.

I am now on school holidays. Perhaps I can make up for my absence.

What's in a name? - TV characters and evocation

2010-02-24T22:39:00.006+11:00

I've always been fascinated by the naming of characters. It's probably the most fun and most challenging element of fiction writing. [When I was in high school, I even convinced my mom that I had to buy a Baby Names book, the sort of publication that traces the history and meaning of names].

Two of the shows I love best, The West Wing and NCIS have very interesting, evocative names for main characters. The Bible seems to be a popular source, especially for the characters who are held up as "elders" -- leaders or sages with unequivocal moral authority. It stands to reason; there seem to be "old" names that we immediately associate with wisdom and nobility.

In West Wing, the US president's name is Josiah 'Jed' Bartlet. There's a recognisable parallel with the Biblical Josiah, in that he was a reformer. This was integral to the character -- despite Bartlet's flaws, he believed in instituting change for the greater good. Toby Ziegler (derived from Tobias), on the other hand, is a bit harder to peg because there are several Tobiases in scripture. The key figure, however, is noted for his loyalty to God which aligns with Toby's dedication to Bartlet's administration [until he leaked the astronaut thing, and even then Richard Schiff, the actor who played Toby, thought that was uncharacteristic]. A non Biblical name that has very strong resonance for another character is Leo McGarry. It was just perfect for his canny, combative way of getting things done.

In NCIS, the lead Special Agent is Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Jethro is the father-in-law of Moses and is revered in Hebrew tradition as a prophet in his own right. Referencing Gibbs to a figure of immense stature and dignity is obvious, but what I find interesting is that Jethro had influenced the development of the Mosaic system of arbitration. This basically meant that Moses delegated. I link this closely to Gibb's leadership style; he knows exactly what each team member is capable of and lets them shine. Other characters don't seem to have overt links to ancient figures, but their names are certainly evocative: Tony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Ziva David, Donald "Ducky" Mallard, Abby Sciuto. There's a wealth of background that one could conjecture with these names. [Postscript: Just realised that Gibbs' FBI friend is called Tobias Fornell. Again with the Tobias!].

So what's in a name? A whole world of meaning, if one but wonders.

I speak, therefore I am

2010-02-22T22:55:00.009+11:00

A few weeks before he turned two, I was wondering when Bubs would start stringing words together into the semblance of a sentence. His vocabulary was already demonstrably wide. He could follow two to three consecutive instructions (e.g. pick up the book and put it away); identify various people, things, and places accurately; and understand underlying narratives in picture books. We could also sense him straining to communicate to us with more complexity, so it felt like a matter of time...

And then, it just happened.

His first official sentence: (showing a picture of himself to Couscous) "See, cat? Baby Jack!"

By sentence I mean a coherent sequence of words that follow conventional English structure.

Since his breakthrough, his sentences have become more complex. There's an experimental note sometimes in the way he says them, and most of what he communicates are statements of fact, seeking confirmation (or maybe it's just that inquiring lilt at the end that is characteristic of the Australian inflection).

Bubs still refers to himself in third person (which is normal, according to literature), and he misses the participles and prepositions. Otherwise, the development of his language skills is well on track and frankly, a bloody marvel.

He has moved quickly from Subject-Verb structure ("Jack play" - asking permission after eating) to Subject-Verb-Object ("Dad fix wall" - reporting observation), and even the use of possessive case ("Doc-doc fix Jack legs" - after a minor jellyfish sting at the beach).

He's pretty amazing.

We're also helping him label facial expressions or emotions to build EQ. (This is where children's television comes in handy. Timmy Time is particularly wonderful because it's all about socialisation, not so much the academic ABC/123 larnin' stuff). Bubs has got "sad" and "scared" well worked out now, both of which can be challenging feelings for toddlers, so I'm glad he's got words for them.

I'm so proud and so excited for him.

Children's television: sort of a review

2010-02-11T19:43:00.032+11:00

Bubs wasn't into television to begin with, but as his attention span increased, he became more interested in moving images. He soon learned to mimic and label, respond to narratives, as well as recall characters and events. I have no problem with exposing him to television; we control the duration and time of day, and make a point of sitting on the couch with him, or at least staying in the same room, in order to talk out and reinforce learning moments. As a result, his language and comprehension skills have likely been influenced by what he watches.

From the outset, we discriminated between shows. That is to say, we tended to lean towards the 'educational' programs (although it could be argued that all of children's television is educational in some way). Because we sit through shows with him, we select shows that we can enjoy as well. Hence, Sesame Street and Play School were long-time staples (Tikkabilla is the current 'educational' stand-in; really fantastic show on CBeebies). But there have been/are other programs too:

In the Night Garden
An early favourite. It is made by the same people who produced Teletubbies (which I loathed when they first came out). Night Garden is perfect for one-year onwards, because the characters communicate through tones and body language rather than words. The slow pace has a settling effect, and the repetitive scenes help develop memory. The characters also frequently display physical affection, which promotes emotional intelligence (EI). There's even a dance sequence sometimes, involving all the characters, which Bubs used to dance along to -- good sign of socialisation. We also used to put this show on before we put Bubs to bed because the final scenes are of the characters falling asleep one by one = perfect segue.

Shaun the Sheep
Soon after we ran out of Night Garden episodes [i.e. started getting endless repeats on Foxtel], we replaced it with the Aardman show, Shaun the Sheep. [For some reason, we tend to favour live action, puppets or stop motion for Bubs]. The dialogue in Shaun is tonal (expressive garbles, really), like Night Garden. However, because the characters are stop motion figures rather than costumed mascots, their facial expressions are far more defined (again, the EI thing). More varied plot points in the narrative structure, too. Storylines are usually based on a mystery or disaster which Shaun then tries to resolve, with the help of Bitza the dog and the flock. It's a pretty funny show -- vintage Aardman. Bubs lo-hoves Shaun and Timmy [his 2nd birthday cake, made by his dad, was a 3D rendition of the "little lamb with a lot to learn"].

Imagination Movers
My (current) absolute favourite. I get why it's multi-awarded. There are any number of children's shows built around problem-solving and the use of 'tools' like maps (Dora the Explorer, Go Diego Go, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse -- we've roadtested them all). But Imagination Movers just rocks them out to pieces. The music is adult contemporary, not cheesy-hyper, conventional children's music (like Hi-5 and The Wiggles). I also like the guys' mechanic's blue overalls: big, big plus to have a truly masculine aesthetic on a children's show. [The whole concept is original, too; Scott, Rich, Smitty and Dave started out on PBS and had three indie albums before Disney picked them up].

Also, the problems, or "idea emergencies" as they call it, are meticulously and explicitly worked out through processes of brainstorming, elimination and trial-and-error [The title song has the lines "You gotta think about it... You gotta talk about it"]. Not too much of the convenient "button-clicking" you see on Dora. A classic example is when their friend Nina makes the mistake of wrapping all her Christmas presents in the same paper without labelling them. So the Movers use a large magnet to pick out the box with the stapler for Uncle Knit Knots, get Warehouse Mouse to find the cheese for Nina's parents, put one of the boxes on a balance scale with the exact same cookie jar to check if it is the cookie jar for Nina's brother, etc.

It may be that Movers is a touch over Bubs' head and all he really wants out of the show is music to dance to, but I don't want to plonk him in front of a program that dumbs him down, either. He is making connections [e.g. he saw a graphic of an astronaut somewhere and said "moosh", his word for the Movers -- clear recall of the episode where Dave donned a spacesuit to see whether it stops his sneezing fit].

2010 Resolutions

2010-02-07T13:54:00.004+11:00

OK so it's February and a post on resolutions seems more than a little tardy. But I did make them at the start of the year -- though I don't tend to -- and I thought that a month on, it would be good to have a checkpoint.

In my extensive list, there are very specific things that I want to pay more attention to, like drinking more water, avoiding buying food from the school canteen, being a better dog owner, and having more control over the time I spend on the internet. There are also little things to preserve sanity, like going out more with people other than Hubs and/or Bubs and having Bubs babysat more than often than last year. Some of these I'm slowly establishing, others have been acted on, and the rest, I haven't even begun doing.

But on the sheet on which I have typed up these resolutions, and which I have posted in the ensuite and next to my desk, I included what I called "rules," overarching guides for myself. I guess, having come off a bad year (many people I know were glad to see the back of 2009 -- really bad juju going on there, it seems), I needed some simple statements to keep me in check, even if I forget all the rest of my resolutions:

1. Do not panic.
2. Have something specific to look forward to.
3. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
4. Be brave.
5. Be thankful.

They seem like airy-fairy motherhood statements, but in my case, they were forged from extremely challenging experiences. Each in their own way represents a desire to overcome and move forward.

A month on, I think I'm doing fine.

[Photo: First blush of lobelia in a flowerpot, taken on the balcony of our flat in 2001]

Jack at two

2010-02-02T21:06:00.002+11:00

Antiquarian dreaming, Part 2

2010-01-29T23:18:00.017+11:00

In my previous post, I wrote about my cherished little collection of antiquarian photos.

They're not the only old things I've purchased over time.

These are:
* Grimm's Fairy Tales with 48 colour plates by Harry G Theaker. Published ca. 1920 by Ward, Lock & Co.
* Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. Illustrated by AH Watson. Published 1951 by Collins.
* Just So Stories for Little Children by Rudyard Kipling illustrated by the author. Published 1950 by Macmillan and Co. Ltd.
* Andersen's Fairy Tales published by Blackie & Son [undated but web search suggests ca. 1940s??]
* Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie. Published by Hodder & Stoughton [undated but web search suggests ca. 1947]

They're not mint condition but definitely pre-loved. I don't mind that. I'm not really one of those serious collectors who bid X dollars for antiquarian books in pristine condition, with dust jackets and all. I buy them for whimsy [for instance, the Grimm's book has a couple of clover-like leaves pressed between its pages, placed there who-knows how long ago]. And I guess from a deep love of old-fashioned books: their smell, weight, texture and (sometimes) colour. A couple of these hardbound children's books have got gorgeous illustrations called colour plates, made by two of the most popular book artists of the genre and of the period:

[Alice and the Caterpillar, AH Watson]

[Rumpelstiltskin, HG Theaker]

These images are straight from the scanner, Photoshop-free, simply cropped with MS Picture Manager.

Again, as with my request with the old photos, if you happen to come across books of a similar nature to these, please purchase to be reimbursed or let me know where they can be found.

Antiquarian dreaming, Part 1

2010-01-29T22:45:00.007+11:00

I've always loved old things. While my high school classmates were headbanging to Guns 'N' Roses and Metallica, I was bopping to The Platters, The Drifters and Everly brothers. I was also into old films. I remember finding Casablanca really gripping, and Gone With The Wind really boring (Scarlett O'Hara is an odious character).

My fascination with things from the past was fully realised when I started buying "relics" on holiday trips to former gold fields. We were browsing through a few antique stores in Ballarat a good number of years ago and I fell in love with a collection of photos. I think it was just that they were clearly from another era, a whole other world that was accessible only through images. Here are a couple from my very small hoard bought over time.

Don't they make you wonder whatever happened afterwards? [On the back of the second photo is an inscription: "To Dear Mum with best wishes from (indeciph.) & Frank. Taken 29/10/14". In four years, this photo will be 100 years old and the oldest thing I own. The top image is probably older but it's not dated].

I like purchasing wedding photos for this reason, because they do have that resonance, more than any other type of photo. Wedding photos also provide a fashion snapshot, and since then, I've gotten a couple from other eras as a study. Please, if you do come across really interesting old photos, could you buy them for me and I'll reimburse you? I'll pay up to $30 for a really good find, preferably dated and with interesting inscriptions (store prices tend to vary based on quality, size and age).

Look what we found at the Salvos!

2010-01-18T22:03:00.011+11:00

Although we were looking for a crafting table (for me), and this really isn't it, it was such a charmer. It's an old primary school desk, with inkwells and grooves to hold your pens. I think we were taken in by the bygone era that it evokes. Such desks were used around the 1950s, some holding through to the early 1980s. As with any secondhand (thirdhand and so on) furniture, it also sparks the imagination: what are the stories of the young people who sat at this desk over the years? Where are they now? What happened to "KE was here 1980"?

On a practical level, we had been thinking of getting Bubs a desk of his own in the study because he tends to want to climb onto our laps whenever we sit at ours. It's a lovely opportunity for cuddles, but also rather annoying when something needs to get done (like paying bills). This was a desk he could have a relationship with, one that actually has a lot of character, compared to a DIY-assembly, laminated desk that we would have likely gotten. So we bought it from the Salvos, and it now sits in our study. It needs some sanding and a lick of varnish, but not much more labour than that. And in a way, any restoration just adds to its history.

Of course, there's a twist in the tale, and a good lesson to have, when buying old furniture: do some research on e-bay! As it turns out, we might have gotten the exact same desk for less than we paid... but then again, we didn't have to travel far to pick it up and the Salvos got some fundage for their excellent work.

A Facebook and Twitter Diet

2010-01-18T08:48:00.004+11:00

I'm pretty much your average netizen with an opinion. (Actually, I've always been rather opinionated; the arrival of the internet just meant that I could potentially bore even more people with my views).

It didn't take long for me to get hooked on Facebook and Twitter. I've been blogging for many web lightyears now, but the responses I get from these social networking sites are more immediate, frequent, varied and numerous. Moreover, through status updates, I was getting marvellous glimpses into the lives of friends, and learning new things through their experiences and interests.

But then it just got a bit silly. I was checking for updates way too often, as if life were that interesting from one click of the 'refresh' button to the next. Also, over the course of my day, I was bookending activities and amusing moments by providing a 140-character precis online.

So I was already feeling that I needed to take better control of my time and communication when a blinding moment of clarity came. Last Tuesday, I was sitting at my laptop reading posts that I had already read on my iPhone (because of course I have the Facebook app on there), when I finally twigged: surely I've got more productive things to do. Not exactly an earthshattering epiphany but it shifted me about 90 degrees. Different view from there. I wondered what it would be like to be completely off the radar. I decided to not visit my Facebook and Twitter accounts for the rest of that week.

The first several hours after quitting were really hard, but once I got past the 36-hour mark, it got easier. I was able to hold out until Saturday afternoon (and could've gone on longer if I hadn't seen Avatar on 3D at IMAX).

In the end, it was a great exercise in abstinence (which I don't tend to be very good at). And it helped me gain a Buddhist detachment from Facebook and Twitter -- which I had sorely needed. And yes, I did become more productive. Yey, me. This might bode well for the rest of the year.

Living with irony

2010-01-17T08:00:00.001+11:00

I've come to the conclusion that being a parent means living with irony. And by this, I don't mean bad luck or coincidence as in the 1990s Alanis Morisette song. I mean incongruity or inconsistency between reality and context, between two desires, between expectation and outcome.

Let's take excursions down the street. Not too long ago, I had to carry Bubs on my hip if I'd forgotten the pram or trolleys weren't available. When he started walking, it was fantastic! That is, until he learned that he could wriggle his hand out of mum's. Now that he's walking, running and climbing up and down things, sometimes I'm like - could you please stay in the same place I left you?

It's the same with feeding. When Bubs started using the spoon, it was wonderful because it gave me a bit of space to do other things while he ate. However, being a toddler, his aim and table manners aren't quite refined yet. Hence, after meals, there's a bit of table-wiping, face-cleaning, clothes-changing, floor-mopping and sighing going on.

So it's this bittersweet spot of being fit to burst with pride and yet oddly harking back to "simpler" times. I think when you're marking time by the growth of your child, you tend to straddle the past and present. You remember how things were, what you wished for, then you see them come true... along with other things you hadn't anticipated, least of which is wishing things hadn't changed at all, even as you are pleased that they did. Funny that.

Who and why I follow

2010-01-16T21:35:00.004+11:00

I don't follow many celebrity blogs or Twitter feeds because most celebs just aren't that interesting or witty. But the handful I follow, do have a common thread: they are all patently down-to-earth. It made me think of one side benefit from social networking, especially Twitter. As with any "offline" conversations, after a while, you get a sense of what people are like. When somebody is posting updates regularly, it becomes easy to detect patterns (even if those patterns may be generated by the PR manager).

So who do I follow?
* Neil Gaiman [Twitter] [blog]
* Jason Mraz [blog]
* Rob Thomas [Twitter]
* Pink [Twitter]

Three musicians and one writer. The writer lives in a Addams family house on a few Minnesota acres, devoted to his family, his girl and his dog. One singer lives on a 21st century commune, planting vegetables and feeding friends. The other singer raves about Puerto Rican fare at the in-laws and campaigns for unwanted dogs. The third singer is just plain Alecia offstage, cooking massive Thanksgiving dinners for her crew and missing her beau everytime she tours overseas.

As far as "interesting" goes, I guess they don't tend to tweet or blog stop-press stuff. Nothing of what they say gets flung about on Facebook, or re-tweeted, or quoted on Digg and Reddit. Some lazy hack on an online news website won't build a 300-word report on their feeds.

But what makes them eminently interesting to me is their ordinariness, the basic humanity that shows through in their rants and musings. Or maybe I just haven't outgrown fan-dom. In any case, it's always cool to find that we're all the same in the ways that matter.

Vale, Sir Ralph

2009-12-03T12:28:00.003+11:00

In July this year, upon learning that he had been diagnosed with cancer, I wrote about my high school English teacher, Ralph Cecilio. I was a little distraught, the way people often are when those they know to have such vitality face death. As testaments on Facebook demonstrate, he was a wonderful teacher, much-loved by many. Absolutely one of Cagayan de Oro's greats, and they are rare.

Ralph had a brief remission after treatment. He passed away early this morning.

I am deeply sad, but the sadness is not as sharp as it was months ago. It seems to be cancer's dark gift, giving people time to reconcile themselves with impending loss. The grief is also tempered by a very strong sense of legacy. When news spread of Ralph's illness, students from way back 1993 (when he started at our school) to this year, honoured his teaching, honoured the man. He lives on each time one of us drops lines from Keats or Donne. I echo the sentiments of others when I say it was a privilege to have been taught by him, although we can only attempt to qualify why we feel this way.

There was something in his passion for English and what classical literature offered to us. How he always treated us as if we were more capable than we realised. He didn't suffer fools gladly, although he liked to play the fool himself. His reputation for awful puns and lame jokes was the only chink in his imposing armor. But also, he was extremely generous. He had as much of a fondness for the disengaged troublemakers as he did for the bright ones.

I've always had in Ralph a model for teaching. I still have a lot to learn, but I hope that I honour his legacy and be remembered with as much love by my students as he is.

(Photo from Facebook page run by his children)

Entertaining my toddler

2009-11-28T20:05:00.009+11:00

[The post title was going to be "How to entertain toddlers." But then I thought, well, Bubs is a particular toddler with particular preferences; I couldn't really claim to have the definitive list of how to keep kids his age -- nearly two -- occupied. The reason I'm really sharing this is because it's an ongoing learning experience for me, trying to match the growing demands of an increasingly sophisticated brain. It might be useful to someone else, in the way that I learned from friends with older kids].

So.

1. Stickers. I used to be a sticker fiend and I have oodles of remnants from my scrapbooking days. Stickers almost always work with Bubs. I give him a sheet of them, plus blank paper or a throwaway box, and off he goes. But there are practical benefits: stickers help promote fine motor skills (peeling them off takes dextrous fingers!) even as they stretch the little one's attention span. I once got twenty minutes' peace when he was 13 months old, leaving him to play with stickers. He somehow ended up with half a dozen on his forehead, but that's the fun part for mummy!

2. Drawing/painting. With painting, I alternate between using fingers, brushes, and sponges. Each delivers its own learning focus (texture/sensation, hand-eye coordination, applying pressure). Painting is of course a messy business that requires set-up, supervision, and clean-up, but it's a fun activity with a visually rewarding outcome. With drawing, I used to let Bubs use textas but then I spent half the time fretting about permanent stains on furniture and clothing, so crayons are the thing at this stage. We normally draw together on one big page, so he can observe and recognise the things I make (elephant, house, plane, car, etc) while he happily freehands. (IKEA sells a fantastic roll of large, blank paper which is perfect for these activities).

3. Play dough. Bubs used to try to nibble on play dough, but he quit after a few admonishments. (It probably doesn't taste good, anyway). At this stage, his molding skills are pretty low level: mashing, squishing, patting, and otherwise destroying mummy's sculptures. But again, it's a kinetic/tactile activity that engages his brain. It involves naming objects that mummy makes freehand/with shape cutters, sticking things into the the clay (feathers, popsicle sticks etc) to make a new object (ball becomes bird). It's something he'll sit down for, for quite a long time.

4. Sand pit. Fortunately, we've got the sort of outdoor space that allows a permanent sandpit. A couple weekends ago, Hubs built one in the courtyard with four sleepers (3x8 solid timber pieces), bolts, weed mat and sand. Bubs lurves it (and no, he doesn't eat the sand). Because of the glass door and windows, I can even keep an eye on him while I stay inside and do stuff.

5. Toy library. If there's one run by the local council (as ours is), then take out membership, pronto! As Bubs grew, we found that toys had limited engagement span; after a while, he'd just get over the novelty and look for something else (in our bathroom drawers, in the study, etc). It's far too impractical to keep buying new stuff, and that's where the toy library more than pays for itself. Our fees were $75 a year (a portion of which you get a rebate if you volunteer for a few hours), and we could borrow any three toys for two weeks at a time (renewable). There is an amazing range, anything from small wooden puzzles to toddler-sized play kitchens. This means that Bubs' play-learning experiences are quite diverse, ideal for the formative years.

6. Books. He lurves them. Completely. He has been surrounded by his own books from when he was a baby, before he could even hold them properly. There is as much space for them in his corner of the lounge room as there are for toys. Certainly, reading was something we promoted early on, the value of which does not need explaining. It seems to have paid off. Bubs now sometimes insists on being read to (like on the potty), but quite often, he'll sit himself down on his little couch and go through his books one by one. It's quite a charming sight.

7. Children's television. OK so this is probably controversial for some people. But my take on it is that, as long as a) the viewing experience is parent-mediated (sit with your child and talk through what is happening), and b) there is a set duration (turn off after one show/segment, allocate at regular times during the day e.g. at morning tea), then TV-viewing is absolutely fine. Even for toddlers. I've seen Bubs name objects, connect what's on telly to what's real, interact (e.g. dance to music/imitate actions), and respond appropriately to plot points (e.g. crying out "Oh no!")... well, these speak of the educational value of television. The caveat, of course, is in the choice of programs, and this requires quite a bit of parental discretion.

Revisiting the Twilight series

2009-11-18T20:45:00.005+11:00

* spoiler alert *

With teenage estrogen levels at fever-pitch with the second film installment of the Twilight series, I thought it was time to revisit my experience of the books.

I think I first heard of them last year at school. I caught sight of Breaking Dawn on a student's desk, was impressed by its heftiness (given how painful it can be to drag kids through a text in English class), and asked about it. It sounded interesting but I didn't really take it further. Then earlier this year, I ended up talking about Twilight with another student, who offered to lend me her copies.

Much as I hate to admit it (because Stephenie Meyer's writing style can be truly torturous), I couldn't put the first book down. I didn't like the next novel, New Moon, as much because, well, the way Bella Swan carried on after Edward Cullen left, I would've gladly volunteered to put her out of her misery. I also grew fond of Jacob Black. The third installment, Eclipse, was just a mess, but I'm saying that because I was appalled that Bella and Edward got back together. My poor Jake was treated so shoddily. Finally, Breaking Dawn was more enjoyable because Bella became less of a wimp after becoming a vampire, Jacob's future of nihilism was diverted when he imprinted on Renesmee (ugly name), and the Cullen family was able to overcome their greatest threat, the Volturi. Still, I have to say that the weird alien-esque pregnancy thing and oddly anti-climactic battle scene towards the end are real pitfalls.

But here's what I really want to say: I don't get why so many young girls are mad about Robert Pattinson. Oh wait, actually, I do know -- they're associating the broodingly perfect, inaccessible Edward with the actor... No wait, I still don't get it. Edward's a dumbass. And Pattinson is a ghostly pale, thick-browed, lanky, funny-looking guy. Taylor Lautner is so much hotter. And Jacob Black is so much more interesting and loveable. I want a JB spinoff.

Trying something out

2009-11-17T22:00:00.003+11:00

Started an opinion blog separate from personal blog: Foolminate. Where the gas in my brain now goes.

[ahhh...]

Oot and aboot: Yarra run and picnic

2009-11-16T19:15:00.002+11:00

Hubs did the third of the Spring into Shape fun runs around the Yarra last Sunday. We were joined by our closest friends and their two little ones.

It had been a warm week, the first heatwave of the not-quite summer season. We decided it was a case of intending to do the run up until the morning; if it was going to be a killer of a day, we would just call the thing off. The night before, we prepared the makings of a post-run picnic. I had always wanted to organise a riverside morning tea because people seem to want to hang around to debrief. We brought crackers, a variety of cheeses, cold cuts and dried fruit, as well as non alcoholic white lambrusco to wash the yumminess down where it belongs.

It turned out to be a gorgeous Melbourne day -- the sun was out, but the air was cool. The river was clear, too, unlike the last run. Hubs did a wonderful job, despite crossing the start line heaps later than everyone else because of a registration hiccup. Our friend pushed the pram next to him, his three-year old daughter enjoying the run in comfort. Bubs and I hung around with his wife and two month old, just watching kayakers/canoeists, bikers, walkers, and runners go past. After the race, we found a spot under a tree and just munched our way through the grub, chatting, and just being in the moment.

I loved it. Being in the moment. When all that matters is what you have in that instant: loved ones, the pleasure of shared food, and the simple beauty of nature.

Nanna Nazis and the Kiwi storyteller

2009-11-12T21:58:00.003+11:00

Most Thursdays, Bubs and I head to the council library for the storytime session. These target pre-school kids (ages 3 to 5), but they also welcome toddlers. The usual run of activities includes song and dance breaks, puppets and of course, a book or two. A craft project related to that day's story or theme concludes the 45-minute session (Bubs never lasts long enough and we head off before this bit).

There's quite a good number of kids who attend, probably close to 15 on average, plus the baby hangers-on. Most of the adults who bring them are the grandmothers. And um, for some reason, I find them kinda scary.

They're strict with their young charges, keep to their clique (don't tend to interact with the young mums), and seem territorial. I can't be sure whether it's to do with our locality, but I suspect the grandmothers in the eastern suburbs would be different. These Nanna Nazis, they're 'been there/done that' types, they don't much tolerate any mucking around. In other words, they're not the warm, fuzzy nannas on oatmeal ads... And yet, they're the ones who regularly cut up templates and other crafty material ready for the storytime lady. They try to herd the kids when the session is about to start, making sure toys and books are put away. So yes, they perplex me quite a bit.

Then there's our Storytime Lady. She is absolutely lovely, easy with the kids, fun. One time she wasn't in and they got a replacement. The sub was OK, but as a parent, you become sensitive to adults talking down to kids. One of the interesting things about our Storytime Lady is that she hails from New Zealand. Which makes stories highly interesting to hear ("Buggh Rid Fahr Unjun").

Bubs isn't quite in the optimum age range for this childrens service, but he seems to enjoy observing the older kids. Although his checkout time tends to be around the 10-minute mark, he does sit still for a spell and will occasionally follow the choreographed moves to familiar songs. It's a good start.

Side notes

2009-11-06T23:28:00.016+11:00

What I'm reading
I've sort of stalled on The Dispossesed (Le Guin), mentioned in a previous update. The thing is, it's still quite engaging when I do pick it up; it's just that I don't seem inclined to pick it up. I suppose it's like that for people who put off going to the gym but actually enjoy being there when they do get there. It's just that the anticipation of something hurting dissuades. In the case of reading this book, my brain.

Luckily, the November issue of Vanity Fair arrived in the mailbox this week. There are revealing articles on Penelope Cruz and the late Dominick Dunne, but the most interesting piece for me was David Kamp's exploration of Norman Rockwell's art and the role of iconography in cultural identity. Well actually, stuff that. What really impressed me were the images. Alongside each sample of Rockwell's work is the photo upon which it is based. The faithfulness to the subject is amazing, but Rockwell also deftly fills in the dramatic gaps to great effect (colour, tone, composition, lighting). The paintings are deceptively simple. I lurve the implied narrative. Really, really gorgeous stuff. New favourite artist!

What I'm watching
I've started watching Glee and Robot Chicken.

We saw the pilot episode of Glee and were frankly turned off by the musical interludes. They're the worst thing about the show, ironically. It's like canned laughter in a 1980s sitcom. Really lame. They could at least throw in some throbbing harmonies if they're going to go OTT on the postprod. But then I reconsidered after Jane Lynch (who plays Sue Sylvester) guested on The 7PM Project. I enjoyed her work in Christopher Guest's films, so on the strength of that, and some engaging promo clips, we watched a couple more episodes of the show. And now I can feel it growing on me. I'm not thrilled about that, but there it is.

I started watching Robot Chicken after Seth Green appeared on The 7PM Project (I must be in their demographic). Seth has always been a bit of a strange creature to me -- by most measures a Hollywood success and yet operating outside it. He's, like, really cool... And then he creates, writes, directs and voices Robot Chicken (with partner in crime, Matt Senreich). In my book, he's become so cool it's stratospheric. The show simply pushes all my buttons: it's a satirical/absurd stopmotion comedy filled with pop culture references. (Made just for me. Thanks, Seth!). I guess Robot Chicken vaguely brings to mind Drawn Together, minus the gratuitous toilet and sex jokes. I heart Robot Chicken. That's now my Imaginary T-shirt Logo™.

What I'm looking forward to
Valedictory Dinner. School finishing on December 18th. Toilet training success. Family summer holiday. Starting over in the new year. Mmmm, I can smell it.

Oot and aboot: party central

2009-10-31T23:53:00.008+11:00

Our weekends have been chockers.

Weekend A: Grandma got married. Ceremony, reception, plus dinner. That same night, we went to a farewell party of a close friend [now in East Timor as a volunteer/youth ambassador].

Weekend B: We went to a 1st birthday party [afternoon] followed by a 40th birthday party [evening]. Which were rather lovely occasions to be part of, each meaningful in its own way. Hubs was meant to go on a fun run the following morning but we arrived late and ended up having breakfast next to the Yarra, followed by a stroll.

All that in the middle of swimming lessons, toy library trips, and the rest of life. We've actually got another 1st birthday coming, a belated 3rd birthday catch-up, and the inevitable end of year gatherings. The first Christmas doodah has already been booked for the end of November. Yep.

Bubs seems to hold up well [well, except the wedding weekend, it all got a bit too much towards the end]. But generally, he's not intimidated at parties and can boogie like the best of them. Our little social butterfly.

One hat, two hats

2009-10-30T17:12:00.002+11:00

A while ago, Lobstah generously passed down some of her boys' things to Bubs, including a set of Sandra Boynton books. One of the books in the series is called "Blue Hat, Green Hat."

Recently it made me think about the "hats" I wear. For me these days, it's more One Hat, Two Hats, Three Hats, maybe even Four Hats. It's a lot to manage. There's the Mummy Hat and the Wifey Hat [both of which are semi-permanently on my head]. The Teacher Hat. The Writer Hat. The Family Hat. I'm not sure whether there's a generic Friend Hat since my relationships are quite varied.

There are hats I enjoy wearing more than others. Sometimes one hat that suits me perfectly one day will be ill-fitting the following day. The thing with hats, though, is that underneath any of them, I am still rather... me.

What hats do you wear? Which is your favourite? Which would you rather lose?

Backyard spring garden round-up

2009-10-30T12:28:00.025+11:00

[Couldn't get bigger thumbnail than this... click on the image for larger view]

A few tomato seedlings have sprouted where last summer's monster tomato plant was eventually removed. There were so many cherry tomatoes that we were hard-pressed to consume them all. So by mid-season, some of them dropped off, got buried, and here we are... free tomatoes. [Incidentally we also had a strange winter crop of lettuce carried over from summer plantings. They ended up being pulled out because they were so woody].

Our lemon tree is still struggling. We need somebody to come in to mow the lawn around the base because it's getting too damp, I think.

The olive tree has lots of buds on it. Maybe I'll learn how to pickle them before harvest!

The alyssum along the garden edging are bursting out. They're one of my favourite plants. So hardy, so dainty, so nice smelling. I planted a purple variety about a month or so ago, but they're not profuse yet. Looking forward to seeing their contrast against the white.

The pair of pear trees have gone leafy again after their twiggy winter look. I'm going to try keeping up the watering over the summer, because last time, the fruit either went super hard or wrinkly. My guess is lack of moisture.

The final image is of our compost bed. At the foreground in the mint, and behind is our must-prune rosemary bush. I suppose if there's any spot in the garden that's good for burying organic matter, it would be here!

Planning on building up the foliage with some other edibles, but have to consider what we're likely to use. Maybe some lemongrass and chilli. Ginger? Haven't grown those, ever. Probably some lettuce again and much later, potatoes for winter. I've always wanted a lime tree, too. I wish we could grow avocado, but we tried once and it died on us. I'm not convinced that our soil conditions and weather suit avocados, even if you do see them at local garden centres.

That's it for now, a round-up of some of the things that have marked spring in the garden.

Another by-line

2009-10-20T21:23:00.002+11:00

Here.

Some interesting comments from readers at the end of the article, too. Man, I love writing. It's one of the best parts of me. I'm still humbled and grateful that I'm being given the space. This was one was even a commissioned piece, I think the second one I've gotten this year.

Anyway. Enjoy! And tell me what you think.

Jackspace

2009-10-19T12:28:00.007+11:00

It seems eons ago now that Jack graduated from his playpen. At its second incarnation, his dad had removed one of the sides and attached a play tent from IKEA (entrance opening into the pen). This meant he had his own little "private" space, furnished with a small foam couch and a pile of books. It was a great extension of his play area. [There were times when I'd look up after putting him in the pen and startle myself, thinking he'd gone missing, only to realise he was in his tent quietly reading].

Of course, he realised not long after he started walking that he could squeeze between the corner of the tent and the rail and let himself out. I distinctly recall the first time he did so; he casually sauntered over to the couch where we were sitting, looking pleased with himself as we burst out laughing.

However, as his motor skills and attention span expanded, it was no longer enough for him to sit next to a box of toys. So we started doing a number of activities that involved sitting at a table: drawing, painting, molding, sticking. Fortunately, we already had a suitable coffee table. We just got a couple of chairs (again, from IKEA) and set up his little corner of the lounge room:

I lurve that we can provide this for him. It's a nice spot, too, being adjacent to the courtyard window and overlooked by our gallery of photos of family and friends. He often sits on his Night Garden couch, reading. I think he understands that it's his own space.

Thinking woman's crumpets™

2009-10-18T23:34:00.012+11:00

I get really blown away by smart guys. I mean, you know, I kinda married one. [And by smart, I mean geeks rather than nerds. There's a difference].

I do like my eye-candy, but the infatuation only ever lasts as long as they're on screen. If I don't see them, I tend to forget about them, until the next swooning opportunity comes up with a newly released film etc. [For the record, Clive Owen, Gerard Butler, and Ewan MacGregor are on top of this department].

Then there are those I call thinking woman's crumpets: sharp, articulate, politically aware agenda-setters with whom I'd lurve to have coffee, so we could just (in the words of comedian Ryan Shelton) philosophisationise.

Anyway, the inaugural members of The Sidewalk's Thinking Woman's Crumpets™ are:

1. Jon Stewart - I actually thought he was cute back when he was technically an "actor." There was something goofily charming about him then, as there still is now. But he sort of wandered off, then reincarnated as one of the most incisive political commentators in US mainstream media. He served such an important function during the Bush years; that is, being the Socratic gadfly to a lame, mangy administration. Although, I guess rednecks and hawks really weren't his demographic. The strength of the humour on The Daily Show is that what Jon says makes so much fruiting sense. I think in a world gone mad, the sane ones become abnormal. I like his abnormal.

2. Todd Sampson - He's scruffy and has an indeterminate (Canadian) accent, but as one of the panelists on ABC's advertising show The Gruen Transfer, he provides such direct, startling insight into the industry as well as human psychology -- that I just want to sit him down and grill him about all sorts of things. Todd may be CEO of Leo Burnett Sydney, but he doesn't fit the corporate type, which in itself is an appealing trait. [Interesting article about him here].

PS Interesting to note that both Jon Stewart and Todd Sampson are starting to get pepper streaks in their hair. That silver fox thing again!

Side notes

2009-10-17T21:01:00.013+11:00

What I'm reading
Ursula K. Le Guin's The Dispossessed. My gollywog, I lurve classic science fiction.

Back when Hubs used to work in St Kilda, I'd hang around during the day on Chapel Street and pop into the Stonnington library, which has a fantastic collection of the old, yellow-cover hardbound Gollancz Science Fiction series. [I must have read a handful of those, but one that still stands out in memory is Robert A. Heinlein's The Door into Summer, probably partly because it features a cat]. Anyway, Le Guin was one of the authors featured in the collection but for some reason, I never gravitated towards her.

Then, last term, while I was posted at the school library, helping put books away, I noticed The Dispossessed, noting that it had won the Nebula and Hugo (these awards are fairly reliable pointers to good literature). So I thought I'd give Le Guin another go. Bit of serendipity, that. Such a fabulous book. Good science fiction, to me, had always been as much about what it says about humans and humanity, as it does about the "science." Rave.

What we're watching
Yey, another season of Greek is on. I lurve this show, although mainly on the whole. The characters can be a bit patchy, especially that Casey chick. I don't get why Evan, Cappie and Max are so crazy about her. She's a ditz. At least she's no longer ZBZ president. I much prefer her friend, Ashleigh. In any case, I guess it's the whole uni, campus-living thing that I enjoy, having been a dormer in the past.

We're also stuck on NCIS. Such a well-written show. The characters are so well-defined and engaging. I lurve that their relationships form the basis for the running gags (the unit being modeled after your average dysfunctional family). I heart Mark Harmon; he's so dreamy. Have had dormant crush on him since Reasonable Doubts in early 1990s. [I remember being into Nelson in high school, which was a band fronted by his twin nephews. So you know, I was just in lurve with the whole family]. And now, he was that whole silver fox thing going, and I'm mad about silver foxes. Except for Kevin Rudd. I also like Ducky Mallard, because I'm kinda like that, outwardly boring but extremely brilliant and insightful. ahahah!

Also watching Australian Idol and Top Chef|Las Vegas, but not really connecting with any contestants on either. Just finished America's Next Top Model, and predictably, the girl I prefer to win out of the final two, doesn't (Teyona wins instead of Alison). Ugh.

What I'm looking forward to
Year 12s finishing up -- can hardly wait! Christmas and summer around the corner. Must get garden patch going, especially with all this wooonderful rain. Working out little getaways.

Oot and aboot: The mega-episode

2009-10-17T20:10:00.008+11:00

Royal Melbourne Show
We took Jack, along with cousin Toby, to their first Royal Melbourne Show at Flemington. The plan was to only go to specific things, rather than try to see everything (we learn from our mistakes!). So we made a beeline for the animal nursery, took a few rides (the ferris wheel was a big feature), bought some showbags, and spent some time in the always-amazing food pavilion. It was loads of fun (even) with two kids! Hubs and I were particularly pleased by how much our little boy took in the experience; the crowds and the noise can be too much for toddlers. But he was happy as larry being towed along, zonking out in the pram when he needed to, then coming alive as soon as he woke. We'd go to the Show again!

First proper visit to the beach
Which was rather impromptu -- as some special events end up being. One Saturday we just decided to go for a drive down the Nepean Highway. We were making our circuitous way back via Krispy Kreme when we caught a glimpse of the beach down a side street. So off we went! Even though the weather wasn't the best for being on shore, it still was pretty thrilling to see Jack's delight in the unusual (for him) environment. He loved the sand, the wide space. He looked agog at all that water...

First trip (awake) to the zoo
Another impromptu thing. Well semi-impromptu. [Brief side story: I've been having issues with zoos for a while now. I'm passionate about animals, have been since I was little, but at one point I got really uncomfortable about the idea of wild animals in captivity, despite the usual justification about research and conservation. Then I had a kid. And it just simplified everything. PS Jack went to Werribee Open Range Zoo with Lolo, Lola and Tita when he was four weeks old but he slept through it. Doesn't count, really, even if he had been awake].

So anyway, we'd recently talked about taking Jack to Melbourne Zoo, mainly because he seems to be the sort of kid who's really taken with animals (and plants, actually). Naturally, we thought it would be a good idea to reinforce what he's picking up from his books, puzzles and TV shows. We happened to be in Essendon today for an appointment, and the zoo was basically a stone's throw away. Before we knew it, we were at the gate signing up to become Friends of the Zoo. This gives us year-round multiple access to Melbourne Zoo, Healesville Sanctuary, and the Werribee Open Range Zoo (which is practically across the road from us).

Again, learning from past mistakes, and seeing that we could pop in again as often as we liked without extra cost, we identified some animals we definitely wanted to show Jack and stuck with those. So this afternoon, we saw gorillas and different types of primates as well as elephants, and also walked through the butterfly enclosure. Two hours was pretty good walking, satisfying and not overly exhausting.

Restart

2009-10-16T16:18:00.002+11:00

I ought to blog more often. I always enjoy reading people's blogs. So why should I deprive others of an excuse to procrastinate at work/school/home?

I think I was on a roll for a while, especially with the Oot and Aboot series. (Tell you what, more Oot and Abooting has definitely ensued since the last episode!). Thing was, I got sick, then school holiday came along (which involved deep mental hibernation), then the typhoon thing unexpectedly debilitated me. I found it unbearable that my life carried on as it normally did, while others' didn't.

But that same relentless saved me, I think. Life does have a way of rolling forward, regardless, and sometimes the thing to do is to just drift with it.

I am reminded of the opening scenes in the children's show In The Night Garden, when Iggle Piggle takes down the sail of his little boat and lies down to sleep, as the voiceover narrator gently says, "This is the way to the garden in the night."

I love that. That complete trust in the universe at your most vulnerable state. Of course, it's a far easier thing to articulate than experience. But all I have to do is remind myself of what the pattern of my life reveals, and trusting makes perfect sense.

Help for flood victims in Manila

2009-09-29T09:46:00.002+10:00

I know that "ways to help" those affected by Typhoon Ondoy are already circulating on FB amongst my Filipino and US-based friends, but I thought I'd widen the opportunity in Australia by posting a couple of donation links:

1. Philippine Jesuits - This is the Philippine Jesuits' social justice account. They administer Ateneo de Manila University, which I attended. The entire campus is now a volunteer-run relief centre and shelter for flood refugees. (On the form, write 'xs4ondoy' or just Ondoy)

2. Caritas Australia - They have opened an appeal to assist its local arm in Quezon City.

The shock has given way now and I'm feeling the devastation. Quezon City was my second home for six years. I know people in the disadvantaged areas, who would've been the hardest hit. Please help. Just Au$10 (PhP 416) would buy around 15 loaves of bread.

Fun Run 2009

2009-09-19T21:29:00.016+10:00

Hubs has been doing the Spring into Shape 4K Fun Run around the Yarra for the third year in a row now. This year I decided to finally do the 4K Walk segment. I don't run, on principle, but I'm happy to walk and I tied it to my birthday, a sort of present to myself. (Luckily, a close friend came along to look after Bubs while we did our thing).

No training. Less than six hours sleep the previous night (Bubs has a habit of trying to sabotage these fun runs). The sky was overcast and there was a patch of drizzle, but otherwise good weather for a long walk. I enjoyed listening to Green Day's American Idiot album; nothing like drum-thumping angst to get you going. There was the initial rush. I felt gleeful whenever I passed other walkers. But at one point, I felt myself concentrating harder, trying to push through the last few hundred metres.

My official time came in at 43:24. I'm pretty proud of that. My shorty-short legs had to work much harder than most participants', I dare say! Although I could've shaved a number of seconds off if I hadn't stopped to take photos (teehee). I couldn't resist the interesting view from MacRobertson Bridge: (the water was unfortunately brown and icky from runoffs due to rain)

It was heaps fun. A small achievement but thrilling nonetheless. Something to mark time by.

I'm not sure I'd do it again, though. I'd be disappointed if my time got worse. And apart from the photo ops, my pace was pretty consistent throughout. Could I walk any faster? It's conceivable. But could I be bothered finding out? We'll see.

More QVB

2009-08-29T12:35:00.003+10:00

Was going through the camera roll on my phone and saw again the pictures that I took of QVB in Sydney. They were too purty not to share.

Another article out now

2009-08-27T11:49:00.003+10:00

A piece on marriage and television that appears in the Spring edition of Australian Catholics.

Yes, television teaches you things.

New article up

2009-08-26T22:43:00.002+10:00

Parable of the long-suffering teacher here. Please leave a comment on Eureka Street (at the end of the article). Also take time to read the rest of the publication -- great offerings there! :)

Oot and aboot: Episode 9

2009-08-20T13:37:00.010+10:00

Unusually, this episode is sans Hubs and Bubs!

After the taping at SBS finished around 10.30AM, I had a bit of time to kill before my 1PM flight back to Melbourne. So I caught the taxi back into the city and hung around at QVB (Queen Victoria Building). See, I'd already been to Sydney maybe six times previously, and for some reason, never really spent a lot of time in the CBD. I'd heard of QVB a few times, so I thought, OK I'll go check that out.

Wow. What an a-mazing building! It was constructed as a sort of multiple purpose area at the end of the 19th century. The architecture is just crazy-beautiful. It's an arcade of high-end shops now, plus some cafes in the middle of the spacious hallways, but all I could do was gawk at the floor tiles, the stained glass windows, the moldings, the dome, the ornate iron balustrades.

[There was an extra bonus in some glass displays of gorgeous period costumes that were worn by Emily Blunt in the upcoming film, Young Victoria (which I'm keen on seeing, having read one of Queen Victoria's biographies years ago and been captivated by her).]

Cupcake experimentation story

2009-08-20T13:07:00.007+10:00

One Monday a couple of weeks ago, I felt strangely "domestic." Which is my way of saying I felt like cooking. I had put on some fries in the oven for Jack's afternoon tea and thought, might as well make the most of the heat and bake something.

So I grabbed a box of ready-mix chocolate cake batter from the pantry and thought, well that's a bit plain. I wanted to szoosh them up. I went into our other pantry in the garage and found a bottle of Tasmanian cherry fortified wine in the bottom shelf. Excellent. Had never put liquor in cupcakes before, but what the hey. Then, after the cupcakes were baked, I thought I'd szoosh them up some more by putting icing on top. More cherry wine ensued.

Anyway, this is what happens when I think too much. Cupcakes not for kiddies. Yum.

Dave McKean stamps with Neil Gaiman stories

2009-08-20T12:31:00.009+10:00

In my (much) younger days, I collected stamps. It helps that your dad is an international seaman and you've got relatives scattered all over the world. But I haven't kept stamps for aaages now.

Then I heard of the Royal Mail Stamps collaboration between Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean. I nearly flipped. I very rarely purchase things off the internet, yet I didn't even try to resist this one. It's a presentation pack of six stamps on a fully illustrated fold-out.

Among the many graphic artists/illustrators who have worked with Gaiman, McKean is the one that I'm particularly drawn to (pardon the pun). I remember borrowing Coraline from the local library and being enamoured not only with the narrative but with the visual style. I later bought Wolves in the Walls and Mr Punch because they are illustrated by him.

Apart from the fact that the Royal Mail stamps use McKean's images, the mythical creatures theme was also extremely appealing. Those who know me well wouldn't be surprised by this. Greek myths, British fantasy, Filipino folklore -- I've adored these stories for most of my literate life.

And then of course, the bonus of having stories for each image of a British Isles mythical creature (dragon, unicorn, giant, mermaid, pixie, fairy) penned by Gaiman was just too good to pass up. I am such a fan of him as a writer, as an activist, as a dad, and as a regular guy.

It's a rather indulgent purchase, even though it did only cost me around $10. It's a collector's item, which means it's mostly useless. But I'm so pleased I have these stamps. Maybe it's the sort of thing I can pass on to Bubs much later on.

I was on telly

2009-08-18T21:27:00.007+10:00

OK so I can now reveal (after checking that I didn't humiliate myself too much) that I appeared on tonight's episode of SBS Insight - episode re school league tables "Best and Worst Schools"). Coulda used more airtime considering the prep I did! But the debate got uber heated, so even though the original script had three throws to me, I only got one chance to speak. I think there's episode repeats on Friday and Monday, for those interested.

Haven't processed the experience enough yet, but can say it was totally edifying. I've only ever written articles about this issue, so it was good to be in a forum with a diverse group of people commenting on its different aspects. Including the Deputy Prime Minister/Education Minister herself, Julia Gillard. Of course, there's so much more that ought to have been said that the hour-long program could not cover. It's an absolute shame that the Federal Government is still going to implement publication of data in the way it's proposing (can't pretty-coat it as not being league tables), despite vehement opposition from educators at all levels. To quote Kim, "What am I, chopped liver?" (and the answer apparently is yes).

In any case, it was a little thrilling to be flown up to Sydney and billeted in a CBD hotel (buffet breakfast included, plus cabcharge vouchers) just so my sparkling presence can grace the studio (wry tone here). Certainly well off the routine.

A nerve-wracking experience to begin with, as well as surreal (especially when I walked into my hotel room last night, thinking - I'm in Sydney, and Hubs and Bubs are in Melbourne). But a fantastic opportunity that I'm glad I didn't refuse.

For Lolo, Lola and Tita

2009-08-15T23:58:00.005+10:00

Just coz you miss us. :) And coz we miss you.

Here's about two and a half minutes of Jack at play. It's quite fascinating to watch in terms of his thought processes at this stage. (Sorry for the poor lighting and the rather chaotic "domestic" background). Cheers!

My Facebook addictions

2009-08-15T23:23:00.012+10:00

... at least for the moment are:

Bubble Town - which is a variation of a game called Snood, which I used to play for long periods of time. It's very easy to keep on playing once the goal-setting/bargaining kicks in ("I'll play until Level 8" and so on). It's a very simple game, one that follows the traditional "matching" model of destroying pieces/characters in order to not get squished by a slowly constricting space. Reminds me of Dr Mario on Playboy. In all honesty, while it's a great de-stressor for me, I really should delete this application from my Facebook page so I can reclaim a bit of my precious time. (wait, I'll do exactly that now... and DONE)

The other game, which seems to be the current fad, is Farmville. As in Bubble Town, or any other game including board games like Monopoly, I'm not big on strategy in Farmville. So while others are doing a roaring trade with their virtual wool and eggs and milk and fruit and veggies, my farm is a bit hobbyist in its humble aspect. It's still somehow strangely engaging - I often feel compelled to check whether there's anything ready for harvest!

Writers who I want to be

2009-08-10T13:26:00.013+10:00

OK so there are writers that I could name-drop as my aspirationals, authors whose work I admire and enjoy: such as Neil Gaiman, Tim Winton, Ian McEwan and Marian Keyes.

But I've started thinking of the writers that I'm envious of and would like to be (in some fashion). Here's the quick list.

1. Diablo Cody - I envy her wit, the certainty of her style, the deft way she turns things like teenage pregnancy (Juno) and multiple personality disorder (United States of Tara) into entertaining yet appropriately complex stories. I even like the campiness of Jennifer's Body, though I've yet to see it. Most of all, I want the speed with which she has gained success through her writing. Come on, Best Original Screenplay for the first script?! I think Diablo Cody also reminds me of that time in high school and early uni when I used to scribble random lines of dialogue in my diary. Seriously, I'd see/hear scenes in my head, or switch on a soundtrack while I watched people. Maybe that side of me veered off to an alternate dimension.

2. Michelle Grattan - I envy her experience and clout. Grattan has been a political journalist since 1970, and still loiters in the corridors of power in Canberra, often reporting or commenting on some of the less obvious things. If I had the kind of access that she does... whoa nelly. I guess she's sort of the local Maureen Dowd (New York Times) in terms of status, only less partisan. I also like the idea of being In The Know (in reality, I have very poor radar when it comes to friends, but my political instincts have been quite accurate lately, e.g. knew Utegate/Ozcar claim was a dud early on; also thought that Victorian MP Theophanous wouldn't go to trial for rape, though not necessarily convinced that he's innocent).

3. Mark Dapin - I envy his rock and roll vibe. Maybe it's from having been the editor of Ralph, a men's magazine. Or maybe it's just that, as a Good Weekend writer, he gets to interview big names like Gordon Ramsay and Nick Cave. I like interviews, both in the reading and in the doing. People are just endlessly fascinating, and I like the process of turning what they say into a cohesive narrative, fit for consumption. Dapin sometimes indulges in a bit of first person narrative, which I don't mind, because it's done with some humour and only to reveal something interesting about the subject (after all, it is not only what we say that exposes us). He's wry but never condescending. I think I want to be him most of all.

Oot and aboot: Episode 8

2009-08-09T14:52:00.007+10:00

We're news buffs, hecklers by nature. So it was with some interest that we received rumours a while back of a new Roving Enterprises production that would deliver "news but not as you know it." I've long felt that Australia needs a satirical program in the flavour of Jon Stewart's Daily Show (The Chaser wasn't it, and although Newstopia had a go, it didn't quite hit the mark with Shaun Micallef as host). Dubbed The 7PM Project, it was lined up to take over the slot from Masterchef. (It is now on its fourth or fifth week, and finding its legs. Could be heaps edgier, I think).

Now we're also studio hogs; we like to ring up for audience tickets so we can gawk behind the scenes. We've been to Working Dog's The Panel (back when it was still on telly). The guests that night were eminently forgettable, and I had the great (mis)fortune of sitting right behind the cameraman's butt, but at least I got a showbag for it (still have a Panel mug somewhere). We've also gone to a recording of Thank God You're Here (back when it was still on Ten). The guests (from memory) were Josh Lawson, Shaun Micallef and Fifi Box. Had a ball that time. I've also been to Temptation, the quiz show not the sordid island resort reality-thingy, with some Media students. That was also cool, despite the snotty male model from Snooty Toorak College.

So what happened was that I follow Dave Hughes on Twitter, who made a callout for audience members, so then I emailed for four (to include a couple of friends), got tickets, and then we went! (Bubs was left with a neighbour for a few hours).

Unfortunately cameras are not allowed and we couldn't hang around to chat with hosts Dave, Charlie Pickering, and Carrie Bickmore. It was a very tiny, standing-room only studio. But it was still a very enjoyable outing for a Monday night. Dave is taller and more broad-shouldered up close. Charlie is better-looking in person. And Carrie didn't engage much with the audience at all.

Sunday riffing

2009-08-09T13:09:00.003+10:00

Having a blahh weekend, which is a relief. We enjoy going out, but sometimes by the time Monday hits, it feels like we've hardly caught our breath. So it's nice to just fuff around at home this time.

It also gives me an opportunity to blog a little more personally.

So where are we at?

Hubs is doing really well in his team leader role at an IT company in South Melbourne. Sooo proud of where he is in his career. Bias aside, I do get a sense that he has made major contributions to the growth of the company since he started in 2005. Management has actually let him set directions for the development team, including recruiting additional members. So it's a good place to be.

Bubs is now 18 months old. He is at childcare twice/thrice a week, and seems to be thriving in that environment. He lurves being with other kids; I once saw him try to kiss a little girl goodbye. He's walking confidently and enjoys being outdoors. His expressive language skills are starting to emerge (e.g. "mo" for more food), while his comprehension levels are quickly increasing! There's been a rough patch of interrupted sleeps for the past couple weeks, but he seems to be getting over that.

As for meself... still teaching at a state school part-time. I think that after hitting bottom mid-year, I'm now able to recognise and better cope with sources of stress. Ironically, it's the things that hurt the most that are the most difficult to let go. I think I still care about my students and my practice, but I'm trying very hard to distinguish this emotional investment from my sense of self-worth.

I've also been fortunate enough to have some pieces published on Eureka Street and Australian Catholics. Later in the year, I hope to find other outlets for my writing. At this stage, I'm just trying very hard to build a smidge of cred.

Roger the Dog and His Highness Couscous are also doing well. Both of them are pretty healthy. Couscous still climbs into bed with us at night, which I think has gone a long way towards making him feel secure (what with Jack having obviously taken over my lap, etc). We're struggling to take Roger for more walks, but Hubs is making a weekly effort.

That about covers us. There's probably details between the lines that I fail to include, but perhaps they're best kept low.

I hope that you are also travelling well. Make sure to stop for a while, just to be still and be.

Remembering Cory

2009-08-05T08:31:00.002+10:00

Piece on Eureka Street here. Will probably write something more personal on this blog later on.

More horn-tooting

2009-07-25T21:43:00.002+10:00

Imagine my surprised delight (or delighted surprise) when I discovered that Crikey had aggregated my last piece on Eureka Street.

I'm usually loathe to overly publicise my forays into writing, because the last time I wrote my opinion, particularly about education (on a professional blog), I got caned for it. However, having my view published by an independent news/media organisation seems to help contextualise it as commentary rather than "slagging."

Anyway, for the unitiated, Crikey is a widely read, alternative news source for politicos and such animals. It's often described as left-green in its leanings, which makes my inner socialist chortle with glee that my piece ever set foot on its website.

Oot and aboot: Episode 7

2009-07-25T20:15:00.009+10:00

Over breakfast this morning, I made a comment about how we're buying fruit and veg far more often, due in (large) part to wanting Bubs to get all the right nutrients. Unfortunately, we tend to get our produce from major supermarkets, which rarely stock locally grown items. (I've been astonished so many times by the longevity of the fruit we buy, which is an obvious mark of the presence of preservatives).

Anyway, so Hubs said, look up some farmers markets. We found a list that included the Slow Food Market at the former Abbotsford Convent (still so named). We'd often heard of it, either in terms of its proximity to the Collingwood Childrens Farm or the Lentil As Anything restaurant located in one of its buildings, which doesn't have a priced menu - customers pay whatever amount that they feel the meal deserves. So today, we said, what the hey, let's go.

OK so here's the deal. We cannot understand why we haven't been there before!

It is the most charming market we've ever been. The grounds themselves are a unique setting, having been a convent for over a hundred years. Being a farmers market, the stall holders are the makers/owners of the items on sale - orchard keepers, cattle and stock keepers, chocolatiers, bakers, vintners. There was the usual market fare such as preserves and tapenades, but there were also gourmet items like vacuum-sealed duck terrine (couldn't resist that one).

After a lap and a half (we made the mistake of getting there about half an hour before pack-up), we got a roll, torte and coffee from the onsite bakery - best cuppa ever, according to Hubs, who couldn't help ordering a second one. There was a little quartet playing outdoors, so even though it was slightly windy, it was great to be soaking up that environment. Bubs immediately took to a little rocking horse that seems to reside in the outdoor cafe area.

We will definitely be back!

Oot and aboot: Episode 6

2009-07-20T13:11:00.012+10:00

Last weekend, Bubs resumed swimming lessons (his third term). On his first session, he had Aunty Suse to play with! We lurve giving other people a chance to be in the pool with him. He's so good about being in the water, although the changes in the schedule, instructor and "handler" may have thrown him a bit.

Afterwards, we went to the Geelong Baby and Children's Community Market. We've always enjoyed checking out community markets, and a close friend had highly recommended this one.

There are around 20 stall holders with "pre-loved" or new clothes and toys for a wide age range. It's better than going to Savers because you're buying directly from the provider, and the goods are niched and in good condition. A portion of the proceeds goes to the Geelong Area Multiple Birth Association (the market founders are mums of twins).

For Bubs, we got two secondhand long-sleeved tops ($1 each) two collared shirts ($3 and $1), two brand new long pants ($15 each), and one new (fair trade) hand puppet from Sri Lanka ($15). Pretty good. I think half the fun is browsing for the right items.

The following day after church, Hubs took us to yet another part of town that's like a local secret. Cobbledicks Ford (pictured left) is a bluestone river crossing built in the 1850s. Although we didn't explore much (Bubs was asleep in the car), the area has very pretty spots for picnics and walks. Must return some day!

Feel betrayed by Masterchef

2009-07-19T21:34:00.007+10:00

* spoilers included *

Had been such a fan from the first episode. Having watched other cooking competitions (both US and UK), I quickly recognised that Masterchef Australia was different, and wonderfully exciting. It was entertaining, illuminating, the judges and contestants were genial and knowledgeable, the production values were extremely high. It has set the topic of every conversation around the country, and started a wave of awareness of food and food preparation that has perhaps been overdue.

Chris was a favourite from the start. Then Poh and Justine emerged as serious contenders. I fully expected them to be the final three halfway through the series, based on what they were already demonstrating (technical knowledge, creativity, teamwork skills). After Poh and Justine were eliminated on separate occasions, I hung in there for Chris, then felt enormous relief that the two women were given a second chance. But then, Justine got booted again. Chris went. Final two came down to Poh... and the most disorganised and un-original cook, Julie.

And now Julie has won.

To say that I am I am absolutely incensed is an understatement. They've let her get away with so much, and from about three weeks ago, it started feeling like they were shuffling her along to the grand final. I mean, OK, the whole underdog thing makes for good drama, but viewers still want to feel that the person who won fully deserves the prize. This is not the case here. Julie is still just a cook to me, not a chef, much less a master chef. Boo.

Another published article

2009-07-16T09:25:00.002+10:00

Yeyy... got another piece published on Eureka Street.

It was so hard to put this one together because I basically had to submit it the day after it was commissioned. That's normally OK but I had barely had enough sleep from doing school work and trying to soothe a restless toddler overnight. It also set me back on marking student's notebooks. But you know what, it is such a thrill to have another article out and get paid for it. I feel so happy when I'm writing. I still wish I can make a living off it.

The Nappy Box House

2009-07-12T17:50:00.005+10:00

Jack goes through a few boxes of nappies (diapers). I had often thought they'd be great for crafting (the boxes not the nappies), so one day I just did it. I made a house for his Little People.

I'm pretty pleased with it, and so is Jack, although at this stage he just likes to turn it over so that the figurines tumble out. Some interior decorating also seems to be in order.

Belated writing update

2009-07-11T22:39:00.007+10:00

A reflective piece was published in the Winter edition of Australian Catholics.

I've had to scan the hard copy of the magazine and then place it on my Google Pages site because it's not linked (hence the delayed hannouncement). Also, the references to Bubs are obviously not current, but it was nice for me to read the piece again and have a sense of where I was when he was nine months old.

Oot and aboot: Episode 5

2009-07-07T09:59:00.010+10:00

We were able to take the opportunity to go out of town last weekend. Friends of ours had moved to the Goulbourn River township of Seymour, about 1.5 hours from Melbourne. We hadn't seen them in ages, so the invitation to visit could not be resisted.

Seymour itself is much like many country areas in Victoria - small, cosy, and quiet. However, since it services many of the surrounding towns as well as Puckapunyal Army Base, the amenities are probably more diverse (includes chain brands like Target Country, Bakers Delight).

Most of our exploration was a bit further up, in Nagambie. There's a community market there every first Saturday, right next to the lake. Really picturesque spot, welcoming atmosphere, usual market fare such as homemade baked goods, fruit preserves, herbal soaps, fresh produce. (We discovered and bought a couple bottles of Ned Kelly red wine spritzer). Jack loved running up and down the grass, and would stop to do a little dance to the ABBA songs playing on the speakers. It was great to see him comfortable in that setting, although sometimes he was so comfortable he didn't mind leaving mum and dad well behind to gawk at toys.

We then drove to the nearby Tahbilk wetlands and winery. We were amazed from the moment we drove over an old wooden bridge into the area, because from both sides of the car we could already see some of the wildness of the wetlands. After lunch at the cafe [reasonably good food with affordable prices], we went for a short walk around. It was so still and peaceful, and ooold. I know that's a strange thing to say, but you do somehow get a sense of the age of the place, as if it hasn't changed much since the Dreamtime.

The fact, of course, is that there have been some changes since the arrival of white men. A winery was established on site in 1860-61, which continues to produce award-winning wines to this day. We were pretty impressed by the idea that some of the grape vines we drove past were well over a hundred years old!

Tahbilk offers wine-tasting in their unassuming cellar building; you can actually go down unsupervised to where the humongous barrels are kept. It's cold, dark, and musty down there, and the smell of fermentation almost makes you feel heady. An interesting experience for non wine connoisseurs like us, and an exciting place for Jack, who freely ran around even into dark spaces. After exploring the subterranean caverns, we went up for some tasting, which was unexpectedly educational. I can now pick up the differences between a grenache, a mourvedre, and a shiraz. The funny thing is that the experience confirmed my unfashionable preference for sweeter and lighter (cheaper) wines.

A great little weekend holiday punctuated by good, long catch-ups with friends.

Oot and aboot: Episode 4

2009-07-06T09:59:00.003+10:00

We went to see Dali at the National Gallery of Victoria (Liquid Desire) last Thursday. Can't recall what I was expecting, but whatever it was, I was completely blown away.

Salvador Dali is of course known primarily as a surrealist painter. I can't claim to be an expert on art history, but I definitely tend to gravitate towards surrealism a bit more than other movements. Magritte and Miró are the other two painters whom I admire.

What interested me, as we walked through the Dali exhibit, was the discovery that I had taken for granted what surrealism actually means. There is a richness to the style and technique, but the layers of meaning are also quite subversive (e.g. use of scatology). True, there is some shock value involved, especially with Dali, but the narrative is certainly far more complex than your average Impressionist painting.

Apart from this, the exhibit reveals the complexity of the artist himself. Dali experimented widely, and in fact went through what is called a Renaissance period in his later years, when the visual details of his work became more realistic rather than surrealistic. I also hadn't been aware of his involvement in advertising, photography, jewellery-making and film (Destino, a 2003 short animated feature that was originally a collaboration between Dali and Walt Disney, is a highlight of the exhibit).

If you're up for some eye-opening and mildly mind-bending experience, go ahead and see Dali!

One of those teachers

2009-07-01T18:53:00.006+10:00

A small note here about my devastation today, upon hearing that one of my high school teachers is doing rather poorly. He has cancer, mostly in the lungs, which has now spread. It took a while to sink in. It was probably the shock.

I went to the guest room where I keep a box of ancient memorabilia. I found four letters from him, sent during my first years at uni, when I was far away from all that was familiar. He was that kind of teacher.

It sounds strange in these cynical, litigious days. But back then, our school was a bit like that. We had great relationships with our teachers. We respected them; they nurtured us. In senior year, we were particularly taken with this big bear of a man, new to the campus, but who very quickly became popular and much feared at the same time. As was the naming custom for male teachers, he was called Sir Ralph.

The monicker seemed to fit him better than most. He was a bit of a knight, in the way of the Old School. He would deliver lines and lines of poems that we were compelled to memorise. In fact, there is a generation of graduates from my high school who can recite Jabberywocky or Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night at the drop of a hat. Many of the notes and comments on Facebook after news of his illness attest to his passion and his influence on so many. I think there's no greater compliment for a teacher than for students to say they were changed by his teaching.

Oot and aboot: Episode 3

2009-06-30T18:03:00.002+10:00

I'm officially on school holidays, and Hubs has also taken the next few weeks off. Brilliant. Some good amount of family time lined up, but also, a few opportunities for couple time, since we still drop Bubs off at childcare (to maintain routine). Hence a Big Day Out today.

We decided to see Ron Howard's Angels and Demons at Rivoli Cinemas in Camberwell.

We've always lurved Rivoli, and it was often our cinema of choice when we used to live out east, even though there were other, closer cinemas. It has retained much of its Art Deco design, so when you arrive in the foyer, and especially if your movie is at Cinema One, it feels very much like you've stepped back in time. You can read more about this National Trust-registered complex at Cinema and Theatre Historical Society.

As for Angels and Demons, it was surprisingly very entertaining. I'd heard it was better than The Da Vinci Code. After the first cardinal died, I did think, Sheesh, there's still a few more, but the pace and exposition were at least snappy and straightforward. The sets and locations were also appropriately highlighted, given that they are woven into the narrative.

For some reason, I was also more comfortable with the idea of Tom Hanks (Robert Langdon) as action hero this time around. But it has to be said that the real star in this film is Ewan McGregor (Camerlengo Patrick McKenna). Regrettably, I often forget how good he is, and how good-looking, until I see him in a film.

After the movie, we had lunch at Samurai Japanese restaurant in Hawthorn (via the urbanspoon app on Hub's iPhone - nifty). A great find, really. It's a hole in a wall establishment, completely without airs and serving super cheap but fresh Japanese fare. I think we spent $43 for a four course meal for both (miso soup each, small prawn tempura for me, deep fried pork dumpling for Hubs, shared sushi and sashimi set, chicken teriyaki main for me, chicken curry for Hubs, a couple bottles of Japanese softdrink called Ramune, and a shared dessert of green tea ice cream). There's also a thermos of green tea provided at each table without charge. Awrsum.

Musing about music

2009-06-27T22:34:00.007+10:00

It's almost midnight on a Saturday night, and I'm idly strumming my guitar, looking up song chords to learn. I'm nowhere near public peformance level, but I can sing along to my playing. It's entertaining (me) enough, and on some level, it's therapeutic.

My family isn't necessarily musical, although I grew up with a piano in the house (I can tinker if I have notes in front of me). I auditioned for the high school glee club twice or thrice before they let me in, and that was probably out of pity. Later at uni, my room mate at the dorm taught me a few chords on her guitar, and I taught myself the rest.

Then I tried drumming after I got married. I absolutely enjoyed it. The teacher, Sam Aliano, even said that I pick up pretty quickly. But then we moved house, lessons fell away because Sam was busy, and then I stopped learning. I'd need a drum kit anyway. Someday.

I bought my own 3/4 nylon guitar not long after that. Then last year, Rick bought me a steel string that has a built-in tuner. I can, in theory, also connect this guitar to an amp. Like, if a reason ever came up to go busking on Bourke Street.

Like most people, I've always loved music. I think it's pretty primal. Only this week, German researchers revealed the oldest musical instrument that has ever been unearthed, a 35,000-year old flute made from bird bone. I mean, that's quite a long while ago. Probably before Neanderthals even developed complex language.

It makes sense when I consider how Jack responded to music from early on. I remember being astonished when I saw him dance to music for the first time, with distinct rhythm, because we hadn't even taught him. He very clearly reacts to music differently from language: he once plucked a few strings on my guitar then did a little sway.

It must have made similar sense to Mary Doria Russell, author of my utmost favourite sci-fi novel, The Sparrow. In the story, a whole expedition is sent to Alpha Centauri on the strength of music heard by the SETI program at Arecibo, Puerto Rico. Russell had conceived a civilisation of other beings whose hierarchy is in part shaped by music makers. Of course there were incredibly dark elements to these beings, but still.

Even when we look at an ancient text such as the Bible, especially the Old Testament, we have the Psalms, attributed to the Messiah's own ancestor, David.

Obviously, I can ramble on.

Another day.

Still waiting to grow up

2009-06-21T22:26:00.008+10:00

Sometimes I forget that I'm now in my 30s.

I'll be watching some person on telly, and they'll make some pop culture reference that I connect with, and I'll go... hang on, we're the same age (range)?! For example, on tonight's show, Rove McManus remarks to Carrie Bickmore that New Kids on the Block won't be touring Australia after all (blaming it on the financial crisis - although Pink and John Farnham haven't had the same problem). Carrie reacts with disappointment, saying her girlfriends had been asking if she could get free tickets for them.

And I'm like, Aah, so you're from that era. Wait, I'm from that era. What are you doing, being on telly, on the most successful celebrity talk show in the country, sharing a couch with international stars? It's bizarre, seeing people my age being blatantly successful. Not like it hasn't been going on before now, but there's something disconcerting about the realisation that I'm no longer watching people older than me, and that the people I admire are actually at the same life stage.

I remember having this epiphany when I discovered that Angelina Jolie was only two years older than me. I was absolutely astounded, because there I was, thinking, Gee, when I grow up, I'd lurve to be like her, all beautiful and talented and clever and humanitarian. Well... actually, I've wanted to grow up to be like Lisa Simpson, but I admire them both for roughly similar reasons.

The point is, it feels like I must still be waiting to grow up, when people my age are already accomplishing great things (and not just in showbiz). I know my own achievements, and am quite proud of them, but I do feel like a kid still, going through the motions of being a grownup.

Maybe it's a Gen X thing.

Oot and aboot: Episode 2

2009-06-14T17:07:00.005+10:00

Last time Jack and I went down to the creek, it was dusk and about to drizzle. So last week, on a (slightly) clear winter noon, we went down again to see what it might be like. Forgot to bring the camera, of course. Had to make do with the one in the mobile, but the scenery still comes out a treat.

It's one of the better things that our local council has managed to accomplish: making up for the bland, cookie-cutter housing estates (of which we are residents) by enhancing the natural features. Our area cops a bit of the regular Westie rep; if only more people had the opportunity to see the great spaces that we have such as this one.

Room for parents: a quick review

2009-06-12T12:20:00.008+10:00

[This would be of most interest to those who have bubs and toddlers, but those who don't might also enjoy a peek into Parents Rooms - for future reference?].

While many commercial areas now have a toilet/nappy change/feeding room designed for the comfort of young families, good ones can still be difficult to find. Your best bet are large, new-ish shopping centres. They tend to have a more compassionate view of what parents of very young children require. And yes, it's more than just a flip-down plastic ledge on which to change a nappy.

This obviously isn't comprehensive but it might be helpful to somebody (I myself had found it hard to find somewhere suitable to breastfeed Jack when he was a lot littler).

1. Melbourne Central - There are booths in there with a change surface and a narrow banquette for feeding, but the space is super tiny. Still, having a curtain helps give a semblance of privacy.

2. IKEA Richmond - Really lovely, well-lit, with nice decor and surfaces (obviously an extension of their display centre). Again, there is a curtained nook for feeding, but it is more spacious and comfy than the one at Melbourne Central. It also has a small table with toys for an older sibling. I think they provide nappies or wet wipes or nappy sacks in a dispenser (sorry can't recall which exactly, but I thought it was a nice goodwill gesture).

3. Point Cook Town Centre - The best Parents Room I've seen so far. They weren't too precious about conserving retail space; that area is huuuge. Not only does it have the requisite private feeding rooms and nappy change area, the toilet cubicle has a mini toilet for the little one, a glass enclosed play yard, a mounted television (perfectly positioned to distract toddlers who think they have better things to do than get cleaned up), and a microwave for warming up bottles and food. I think there was a dispenser for nappies (not free), which is great for emergencies. It's a great model for other Parents Rooms.

Oot and aboot: Episode 1

2009-06-06T18:00:00.010+10:00

I've started taking Jack for a drive or a walk more often. Because he is at a highly 'interactive' stage, being housebound now has serious drawbacks. After a while, the usual toys, books and games are no longer entertaining. Having a large backyard is convenient, even on chilly winter days (as long as it's dry), but then after a couple of laps around the garden beds, there's not much else to do. (Must think about how to rectify that).

Luckily for us, there's a creek nearby that has been redeveloped into a mini park. It's just absolutely fabulous. I don't know why I hadn't taken Jack down there before. The path meanders around a network of waterways that attract all sorts of water fowl.

As a family, we've also been going on drives about an hour before Sunday Mass. Being in the car tends to put Jack to sleep and having that midmorning catnap before the service does wonders in terms of his tolerance. We've discovered charming little pockets of our 'town', some of which are old areas that can probably be traced back to pastoralist days. At this time of year, driving through fog is of course another plus.

On the odd occasion, we'll also hop in the car on a Saturday just to spend time together. Today, we went further than expected. We had planned to grab lunch at Bacchus Marsh but ended up in... Ballarat! We thought we'd find a cafe along Lake Wendouree, only to find that the lake no longer exists (it's an artificial lake, so a combination of long dry spells and some sort of council stuff-up has completely drained it).

Fortunately, the Boatshed Cafe, which formerly juts out into the water, is still up and running, so we popped in for lunch (Rick) and dessert (Fatima and Jack). [The official review is that it's overpriced and nothing remarkable].

Yep. Oot and aboot and enjoying it.

Stuff

2009-06-05T15:52:00.004+10:00

What I'm reading

Latest issue of National Geographic. Should remember to renew. I lurve this magazine. I feel smarter just taking it out of our mailbox. Also finally updated my membership at the local library (as in paid a three-year old $16 fine plus $4 for a new card). We had stopped going because the counter ladies (I refuse to call them librarians) were so rude and abrupt, like we should do an 'Imelda Marcos knee-walk to the altar' thing for getting to borrow things for free. Anyway, I bit the bullet and went back yesterday, and the young librarian there was so easygoing and helpful. Phew! So I got This Charming Man by Marian Keyes, Terrorist by John Updike, and Saving Fish from Drowning by Amy Tan. A bit of an eclectic mix. But that's so me.

What I'm watching

Hooked on Masterchef Australia. How good is this show! High level production values, good pacing (except for the recaps after each break), stellar judges (Gary's my favourite), really talented cooks (no dodgy celebrity-hunting contestants here), interesting weekly structure (mystery box, group challenge, cook-off with a top chef, elimination etc). The UK version has nothing on the Australian program.

Also following Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations travelogue again (incidentally, Matt Preston on Masterchef has the same title for his Epicure weekly column). I secretly (OK, not so secret now) aspire to be like Tony in attitude -- straightforward, acerbic, sarcastic and yet open, generous and even brave. He's... at home in the world. I want to be like that.

Watching Australia's Next Top Model. Rupert's daughter-in-law, model Sarah Murdoch, is doing a fan-bloody-tastic job as host and co-producer (Jodhi Meares was such a script-reading robot). I think the contestants this year are far better looking than last year's, and more talented. Well, as far as posing can be a talent. My top three are Adele, Claire, and Tahnee.

What I'm looking forward to

Staying overnight at our friends' place. School break. Rick being on holiday at the same time and catching a couple of movies together. Going out of town to visit other friends. Getting the first half of the year behind me. Jack growing more teeth. Jack learning to string a sentence together.

Ruminating winter

2009-06-04T11:06:00.006+10:00

What I don't like about winter:

1. It always takes forever for clothes to dry. Leads to wardrobe crises.
2. Lack of vitamin D from the sun.
3. Bleak mornings, bleak afternoons... just the overall bleakness. I think winter conditions do tend to make you morose.
4. Shorter days means less daylight means less time to do things.
5. Muddy shoes. Muddy shoe prints on the floor.
6. Sometimes you just can't get warm no matter how many layers you have on.

What I like about winter:

1. It's not hot. (think about having to return to your parked car at the height of summer)

2. More dressing up fun with jackets, headgear, etc. (once they've dried out)

3. It's wet. If not from rain, then from dew. Good for our gardens. And we can get away with not watering plants.

4. Driving through fog. At 9.30 in the morning. Off the scale cool.

5. Warm mugs of Milo.

6. Curling up under the doona.

Update

2009-06-01T17:17:00.001+10:00

I think I'm OK now.

So far, so mental

2009-05-16T11:03:00.002+10:00

I've been out of commission for the past week due to some very fashionable viruses. Jack first got it (cough and cold, leading to an ear infection), which made for a jolly household for a couple of nights. He has practically recovered now, except for some remnant snotties. But in the middle of his sickness, I caught my own. May have been from school, may have been from him, may have been that my resistance has been low due to tiredness and stress. I've been wretched.

I've actually been hesitant about blogging because I've been in a bit of a mess. There were fluffy things I could've written about, but that would have been glossing over the elephant in the room... to completely mangle the expression. And the only thing I want to be here is authentic.

I don't want to dwell overmuch, although it's perhaps a healthy sign for me to commit these things to virtual paper. Because this past week, I felt like I was staring into the abyss.

I've lost confidence at work. I'm having a career crisis. I'm homesick. I'm sick. We're under some financial stress. I feel isolated. The house needed proper cleaning.

It is the closest to the edge I've ever been. I don't think I'm slipping in anymore, just sort of sitting there, legs dangling.

The thing is that, without realising it, I have actually been choosing to survive. I took the week off work. I saw a psychologist. I cleaned the house. I laughed at some funny shows on TV.

The situation hasn't changed. But I'm trying to live within it.

Up the wall

2009-05-04T09:34:00.015+10:00

I always enjoy it when people blog about their house or room and post photos. It's nice to picture people in their natural settings (I know, it's a bit Discovery Channel). But I do appreciate the opportunity to glimpse something of the inner workings of the people I know. Both Rick and I are also design enthusiasts (graphics, architecture, interiors etc) so we can be fussy with styling. So for these reasons and in this spirit, I thought I'd show you around our house, or more specifically, give you a sort of gallery tour...

One wall in our front hallway used to be a sea of off-white nothing and it would bother me most times when I walked past. It just seemed so sterile. We talked about a few solutions then decided to simply get some fabrics from Spotlight and stretch them around same-sized cheap canvases. We hung them like a triptych, with two colours in the middle "leaching" into a pattern on either side. I'm really pleased with them.

These graphic pieces were bought from a French-born artist in Queenscliff during a holiday. It was our first experience buying artwork from an artist, so it was a bit thrilling, but also, the images really "spoke" to us. They're actually presented on a narrow, dense styro board, borderless, and covered in plastic, so I like the "tile" look, but I think the day will come when we will have to think of a nicer way to mount them. Btw, Rick put them up on the wall with velcro dots so in theory we could rearrange the tiles, but haven't since.

We've always had photos of family and friends as part of our decor wherever we live, but they normally stand on a shelf in assorted frames. After we painted a feature wall in our living area, it just seemed like the best space to celebrate the relationships that we hold dear. The frames were just cheap ones from Spoils, but the black frames and recess mounting, and grouping them together works a treat. [PS I deliberately left the blurriness in for obvious reasons].

A large blank canvas, coloured the same paint as the feature wall, used to hang on this wall. But after we had the aircon installed last summer, it just didn't seem right anymore. So when I saw this ironwork, I knew straight away that it would be the perfect replacement. It's meant to be a garden ornament but it's a great accent at the end of our dining table.

There are other things on our wall, but you'll have to come over and visit to see them! I hope you enjoyed the tour. :)

My secret superpower

2009-05-04T06:44:00.004+10:00

I'm really good at facial recognition. lolz

But it's true. I'm not only very good at identifying even obscure actors in films, but I can cite their filmographies and whether they've previously worked with the other actors in that film. It's a bit of fun and it's very handy for people who watch movies with me. On the rare occasion, I mightn't remember the full name, but generally, I can easily place an actor with other settings.

So I know this is my secret superpower, but I do freak myself out sometimes. Like when we were watching the first episode of Joss Whedon's new show, Dollhouse, which stars Eliza Dushku. Late in the episode, the character of Sierra turns up. And I'm like, "She was on Neighbours!" [Australia's longest running soap opera, almost 25 years on air, I think].

As it turns out, Sierra is played by Dichen Lachman, who used to play Katya, the older sister of Zeke and Rachel, who were adopted by Susan Kennedy. Katya left the show in 2007.

(Let's not talk about why I know this bit about Neighbours hahahh!)

Sharing the delight: Jack walking

2009-05-02T08:52:00.005+10:00

Winter has come early in Melbourne

2009-04-30T10:36:00.002+10:00

Yep. It's cold.

It's so cold that a couple of mountain resorts are starting their ski season early, with some areas recording 20 to 40mm of fresh snowfall earlier this week.

It's so cold that in nearby Laverton at 6.30AM, the temperature was 0.4 degrees Celsius. To state the fruity obvious, that's not even a WHOLE degree!

According to a report in The Age, it is the coldest morning in the greater Melbourne area in 56 years.

OK so for my friends in Canada, that's a mere sneeze. But the Australian winter does not officially start until June.

And it's adversely affecting my newly minted resolution to get up at 6AM rather than letting Jack be my alarm clock (which usually goes off at 7AM).

Teehee

2009-04-28T12:49:00.001+10:00

Line from an ABC Online article on the swine flu:

"It is very much early days and the big focus now, through infection control organisations like the Centres for Disease and Prevention (CDP) and the WHO, will be to interrogate this virus at a molecular level."

Well. As long as they adhere to the Geneva Convention. No waterboarding, please.

Looking back, looking forward

2009-04-23T14:57:00.005+10:00

Term 2 has started and it feels like the two-week holiday break swooshed past like it had never even been. But then I looked at my calendar and realise that in that time:

- I visited the folks who generously give me publishing space every now and then
- I caught up with a dear friend there and finally showed off Jack to him
- I thoroughly cleaned our kitchen and living-dining areas, which is A Very Big Deal
- We spent the day at my mother-in-law's: Rick painted a feature wall while Jack and I supervised
- Rick and I had our Big Day Out
- I visited a friend who had a baby several weeks ago
- We visited my sister-in-law and her family and finally offloaded some overdue birthday presents
- We watched Cirque and dined out at Bellissima in Docklands

That is awesome.

Being at school certainly has its own rewards and challenges, but I've always felt blessed that I have a life outside work. And what a life. It's not much, but it's mine.

There are many, many, many things that I still aspire to: the travel thing, the writing thing, the figure out the rest of my career thing. One step at a time. And a jiggy on the side.

End note: I have been getting up at 6AM(-ish on some days). This is also A Very Big Deal. I'm not a morning person, and we tend to let Jack be our alarm clock (usually goes off around 7AM). But I'm finding that... it's actually really good to have that little breathing space and get a tiny headstart to the day. I may well be starting to grow up.

Cirque du Soleil in Melbourne: Dralion

2009-04-23T14:11:00.006+10:00

Dralion is the fourth Cirque show that Rick and I have seen together [the previous being Alegria, Quidam, and Varekai]. It was already a special event to begin with because it marks our eigth wedding anniversary. So we arranged for two friends to babysit Jack for the evening, got gussied up, then headed for Docklands where Le Grand Chapiteau happens to be this year [used to be at the Old Scotch Oval].

We were actually running close to time, which stressed us out a bit. If you're late, you're "detained" outside the tent until a suitable point in the show. The venue being unfamiliar, we were also second-guessing where parking was going to be convenient and available. We got through the gate with just enough time to buy some vurrry expensive refreshments [$5 bottle of water = must have extra oxygen in it or something], then made our way to our squishy seats. As in invasion-of-private-space squishy.

*** SPOILERS BELOW - DO NOT READ IF INTENDING TO SEE THE SHOW ***

After the usual pre-show antics from the "clowns", the music stirred, the lights dimmed then it started.

I think that having been to Cirque before, I felt a slight, internal resistance to the unfolding spectacle. But five minutes later, I was in. Around ten minutes after that, I was gone.

I can break it down and talk about the costumes, the music, the lighting, the choreography. I can tell you about how jaw-dropping the trampoline act was, how amazing the juggler, how deeply moving the aerial pas de deux, how exciting the hoop diving. I can talk about this year's deliciously wicked twist, involving an audience member.

But in the end, it comes down, as always with Cirque, to the amazing creativity and diversity of human beings. The performances are in every sense fantastic -- some feats even seem unnatural -- but then I get struck by the fact that these are real, live people. And so as magical as Cirque is, it is also a celebration of the human potential of the performers and yes, the audience. To be awed, to laugh, to be stirred, to have a moment to permit ourselves to be children... it's incomparable.

Big Day Out

2009-04-16T10:25:00.004+10:00

During school holidays, we still drop Jack off at childcare, which means that I get to spend a few days at home by myself. It's usually a good opportunity to do proper clean-ups and have some uninterrupted down time. But also, Rick can arrange to get one of these days off so we can go out together.

This week, we decided to check out Monsters vs. Aliens 3D at the Crown Casino Village Cinemas. I got pretty excited when I put the polarised glasses on and watched a movie in 3D for the very first time. It was very cool and very strange having to adjust to things floating in midair, seemingly between the "screen" and where I was sitting. Naturally, the effect gives a whole new meaning to "depth of field." My brain got over it after a while, and turned to the narrative, which was rather dull, actually. Still, it was worth the 3D experience. Made me want to check out a wildlife docu version on I-Max next time [as opposed to another animated feature].

After the movie, we had lunch at the casino foodcourt, which had super expensive but OK food. Nothing remarkable, I think. We wandered around for a bit, and had seen some of the gaming floor on our way to the cinema. It's a pretty fascinating place, after I overcame my initial anti-casino guilt thing [sorry, Rachel Griffiths].

Then we went shopping for Jack's winter clothes, followed by a lovely cuppa at Degani in Point Cook [really good cafe, btw, pretty consistent with the hot drinks]. It was so nice to just sit outdoors and talk about whatever on a sunny, autumn afternoon. A good day out.

Easter thanks

2009-04-14T09:54:00.003+10:00

I worry. That's my nature. And in these times, there's more than enough to be anxious about. But every now and then I step back and realise that I'm actually quite happy and content. It's easy to figure out why.

I've got a fantastic family - mommy, daddy, and Ona - who love and support not just me, but my own family. Which isn't to say that we're not dysfunctional in our own way, like all other families. But still. I know what I've got, and I know I'm lucky.

I married a man who became my bestfriend. I can't be any more fortunate than that. Which isn't to say that we're not dysfunctional in our own way. But still. I know what I've got, and I know I'm lucky.

I have a delightful, sparky, gorgeous little boy. He can drive me to exhaustion or exasperation, and he occupies a large part of space in my head, around the house and in our day. But I know what I've got, and I know I'm lucky.

I teach and I love it. I'm not very good at some parts and most times I end up getting frustrated or disheartened. But I'm doing something that I care about, and I know I'm lucky.

I write and I love it. I'm not brilliant but I'm good enough to get a by-line occasionally. It's more than a lot of aspiring writers can say, and I know I'm lucky.

I've got a house with a cat, a dog, and a big backyard. It's spacious, but this also means it's a bugger to keep tidy (especially with a toddler around). But we're still in love with this building, this structure where our life as a family mainly flourishes. I know I'm lucky.

I've got friends. I don't have many but they're loyal and caring and smart and funny. I don't see enough of some, and others I haven't seen in person at all for a good long time. But I know I'm lucky to count them as part of my world.

I use the word "lucky", but really I recognise that much of what my life has come to today has been due to a series of choices that I made, opportunities that I took. On the other hand, I am allowing for the fact that in the spaces between these choices are things that I did not have control over, and which came my way without being sought or dreamt.

So I give thanks.

The Armchair Economist: Men and money

2009-04-10T10:13:00.009+10:00

I don't see myself as a feminist. While I find misogyny abhorrent in its various forms, I tend to become wary of gender-based arguments against men. The thing is, men and women are biologically and, more specifically, neurologically different. This puts obvious limits around the idea of gender equality [I prefer the term equity].

However, I found this paragraph in Michael Lewis article, "Wall Street on the Tundra" (Vanity Fair, April 2009) compelling:

Back in 2001, as the Internet boom turned into a bust, M.I.T.’s Quarterly Journal of Economics published an intriguing paper called “Boys Will Be Boys: Gender, Overconfidence, and Common Stock Investment.” The authors, Brad Barber and Terrance Odean, gained access to the trading activity in over 35,000 households, and used it to compare the habits of men and women. What they found, in a nutshell, is that men not only trade more often than women but do so from a false faith in their own financial judgment. Single men traded less sensibly than married men, and married men traded less sensibly than single women: the less the female presence, the less rational the approach to trading in the markets.

Lewis makes a direct reference to Iceland's own financial collapse, where few women were involved in risk-taking ventures. So I guess the reason why I find that study interesting is that it strikes against the prejudice against women in corporate settings, which is usually based on the idea that women are "emotional" and can therefore be "irrational" or "unstable" and hence unfit for Big Management.

On top of the shifts mentioned in a previous post, is there now going to be a shift in the gender composition of corporate sectors?

Brain lint

2009-04-09T15:57:00.007+10:00

What I'm reading: Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book. Really enjoyed the opening scenes; I think the character development was so deft. Surprisingly, it's not as compelling from midway through. My guess is that, because it starts out so darkly (even menacingly?), the dips in the narrative become obvious, as if the climax had already happened... I wonder how it might be received as a graphic novel. Anyway, it's still Gaiman-good fun.

What we're watching: The usual seasonal shows such as So You Think You Can Dance [one of the girls will win, maybe Amy], Top Chef 5 [surely Stefan will win], Amazing Race [anybody's game, but I'd lurve Marge and Luke to win], and The Gruen Transfer [I Heart Todd Sampson]. Also watching reruns of That 70s Show, which I had not heretofore appreciated. It's actually quite... funny.

One of the great discoveries of the year, however, is Lawrence Leung's Choose Your Own Adventure on ABC. I enjoy the '80s references like Electric Dreams, but the show really leaves me in stitches. I'll never hear new direction the same way ever again. And I'm sure Kevin Rudd will never say it again, either.

What I'm Doing: Not much. Raising Jack. Cleaning patches of the house. Thinking about that next article. Putting off school work. Catching up with friends. Looking forward to a couple of dates with Rick.

What I'm Listening To: I usually put on Max [a music video channel] in the morning while I play with Jack or do other things, so my listening pleasures tend to be dictated by the monkey handling the playlist. I still perk up when Black and Gold (Sam Sparro) or I'm Yours (Jason Mraz) or any of Duffy's songs come on. I used to get fixated by Beyonce's Put A Ring On It video, it's just so... compelling. But one musical thing I recently finally owned up to is how much I like Maroon 5. Their songs are just so darn catchy.

Another published article

2009-04-04T11:44:00.004+11:00

I think this is the fourth one published so far this year... Yey! It's still so thrilling to see my name up in lights, er, online or in print. The cheque is fantabulous in these financially trying times, but the by-line lifts my soul [especially when it's the cover article!].

More from The Armchair Economist

2009-04-04T10:52:00.008+11:00

Previously, I wrote about surviving The Great Recession, where I noted that

... we have been paying for less than what products [including houses, in the US case] actually cost, using money we don't really have.

I've been doing some more head-scratching from my armchair, watching the business news like a migrant in a new host country, pretending that I know what everyone is talking about.

And these are some of the things I figured out by osmosis [the semi-permeous membrane being that I'm a closet socialist]:

Finally. Western governments are recognising that laissez faire economics is not the be-all and end-all. I've often thought that the whole attitude of "letting the market sort things out" was flawed, for one very good reason -

The "market" is not an extraneous entity that somehow organises capital according to mysterious algorithms. It is in fact driven by human beings with the very human tendency to act in their own interest [sometimes against reason, as has been clearly demonstrated].

The market thus does not necessarily move rationally and is in fact prone to, hold it, "feelings". The whole stimulus package mantra may have practical benefit but it is foremost an exercise in psychology, of managing perception, of making investors and ordinary people feel confident that it's all going to be OK, please don't take any more money out of stocks and banks.

That the market ought therefore to be regulated rather than de-regulated has been one of the big lessons from this recession -- an overdue recognition that the numbers on the tickerbox are ultimately sourced from decisions made by people, whose behaviour is appropriately under the jurisdiction of government.

There are other things to be gained from this experience...

1) An adjustment in the relationship between The State, Business, and Civil Society. It is the state's function to curb excesses of business, but somehow in the past 20 years, we have somehow convinced ourselves that deregulating business leads to economic growth. However, I am not such a socialist that I wouldn't have an appreciation for the need to fund risky ventures; otherwise, innovation would be stifled. What I am against is when business is allowed to grow unfettered, then inevitably collapse, bringing ordinary people down with them, then expect government to bail them out. You see it over and over again, in how the IT bubble burst in 2001, in how ABC Learning Centres contracted this year [during a baby boom!].

2) The recession may well be the best thing to happen to the environment in recent years. Manufacturing has been scaled down, which means that carbon emissions and energy use would also be reduced. Economic contractions can also drive innovation. For example, the US car industry is compelled more than ever to produce fuel efficient cars for people who no longer have the money to buy 60 litres of petrol for their 4WD SUV.

Round of updates

2009-04-03T10:31:00.005+11:00

Just to shake off the dust....

1. I am officially on school holidays from today. Woot woot! This term has been the most stressful since my very first term of teaching... you know when fatigue and anxiety stop being just feelings and turn into actual physical symptoms? Yep. The rest of the year will probably be more of the same, but for the next fortnight, I can at least look forward to catching up with friends. Yey.

2. My sister Ona went back home to the Philippines last Saturday. Boo! Ah well, good things sometimes come to an end, and our loss is my parents' gain. I lurve that she and Jack had good bonding times together. (I remember coming home from work one day and she had pitched a tent for her and Jack in the lounge room, using a blanket).

3. Jack continues to fascinate us, as he progresses from baby-hood to toddlerhood. Starting to walk holding onto one hand, but plonks his bottom down unceremoniously when he's had enough. Has taken to holding a fist against his cheek and pretending to be on the phone (yep, the mimicking has begun). Massively enjoying his swimming "lessons" and enrolled for next term. Much less fussy with food and goes through the occasional growth spurt gorging. A big babbler, not quite intelligible sounds, but certainly understands what we say (follows prompts like "in your mouth", "cuddle", "bye-bye"). I once thought he'll probably outgrow his good looks -- as some babies do -- but I'm becoming convinced that the spunkiness is ingrained and permanent. :)

4. Got the first issue of my new subscription to Vanity Fair yesterday. Wheee! It's got the comedy portfolio, too, which is right up my alley, given that it features members of what I call the Judd Apatow School of Comedy (Seth Rogen, Paul Rudd, Bill Hader, Jason Segel etc). I've also been poring over the fashion photography. In my own little heaven.

PS: It says something about my contradictory nature that the only other magazine I subscribe to is National Geographic.

5. During the Summer of Hell, we basically let our front- and backyard go. We usually do at that time of year; it's just too much to keep things going, especially when simply watering is not enough against the prolonged, high temperatures and low humidity. Fortunately, we've got pretty resilient plants, so note to self: time to weed and feed.

6. Watch this space for another published article.

Reminiscing Rainbow Brite

2009-03-22T23:06:00.004+11:00

A curly friend just celebrated her first blogiversary and in my congratulary comments, I remarked on how she reminds me of Rainbow Brite.

So then of course that set me off... five seconds later, I became convinced that you can find just about anything on YouTube.

The video is an excerpt from a movie called Rainbow Brite and the Star Stealer, and the song, in particular, is one that I had memorised the lyrics and sung to countless times when I was a lot littler, basically wearing out the tape on the Betamax. I cannot describe how good it made me feel to reacquaint myself with Rainbow Brite. I'm going to bed with a smile on my face.

How to survive The Great Recession

2009-03-12T22:51:00.008+11:00

So the IMF has officially uttered that which governments have not dared name [like Voldemort in the Harry Potter books].

There have actually been numerous references to the 1930s Great Depression over the past six+ months as it became more and more obvious that the financial markets were imploding from all that imaginary money that people were lending to each other. But it seems that prompt government action has staved off some of the worst effects, enough so that at this stage, what we are experiencing is apparently merely a recession. That is, a crisis that would last probably five years rather than the 10 or so years that it took to recover from the Great Depression. The historical references now point to 1980/81, 1991/93 and 2001/02.

However, we keep being told that it'll get worse before it gets any better. Which is not a very reasurring thing to say at all, when the bottom keeps dropping out.

Obviously, I've been thinking a lot about this and have technically become an armchair economist. From what I've been able to figure out, the problem seems to have come down to this: we have been paying for less than what products [including houses, in the US case] actually cost, using money we don't really have. How did we not see the crisis coming?

Until we figure out how to untangle that gargantuan Gordian's knot, here are some ideas on how to get by in the months ahead:

1. Move in with your parents.
2. Grow your own vegetable garden. Better yet, condition your body to digest edible succulents [if there are such things]. You might have a better chance under these climate conditions [little rainfall + long, hot summers = food crisis].
3. Borrow rather than buy, whenever applicable. Lend rather than hoard, whenever applicable.
4. Stay at home. Beyond your front door lies many temptations to spend.
5. Throw all store catalogues in the recycle bin as soon as they arrive in your mailbox.
6. Do your clothes shopping at secondhand stores like Savers or even Salvos. You'll be doing the environment a favour and giving to charity, while getting inexpensive, but unique clothes. I mean, do you really want to look like everybody who ever shopped at Target during their 20% off sale?
7. Cut out or downsize your vices. Sacrifice builds character. [As Calvin's dad might say].
8. Ditch the car and car pool. [Unfortunately this only works if enough workmates live near you and you're all conveniently located along a straightforward route to the office].
9. Shower in your clothes. Saves detergent and water.
10. Learn new and exciting ways to cook with relatively cheap staples such as rice, potatoes and bread. And say bye-bye to your low carb diet.

Sydney long weekend

2009-03-12T15:02:00.020+11:00

First of all, many sorries to our Sydneysider friends for not meeting up with them, as intended. I think we already had so much on, that it would have been a bit of a killer to try to see people as well.

We actually came over because Rick and his sisters had to sort out some of their dad's stuff, which has been sitting in his wife's garage since he passed away in 2007. We also visited his grave for the first time since he was buried; it was actually a bit rough being at the cemetery with little Jack. I felt all over again how profoundly unfair it was for Jack not to have met his grandfather and namesake.

The trip was also a 30th birthday present for my sister Ona. She's been to Australia a number of times before and had hinted (not too subtly) that she'd never even seen the Opera House. Hence a little impromptu holiday for us as well.

Saturday

We stayed at the Oaks Maestri Towers on Bathurst and Sussex. The apartment-style accommodation was clean and spacious, but the convenience of walking five minutes to Darling Harbour was an absolute winner. One of the highlights from our stroll over there was letting Jack have a little toe splash in one of the water features.

[On our last day, we returned for a quickie visit at the Lindt Cafe located there, where we bought choccies (naturally), macarons, and had the tastiest chocolate milkshake on the face of the earth].

Later that night, the Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras parade was on and we couldn't resist making our way to the action after dinner. Turns out we were a more than a bit ignorant about access and visibility. It felt like all of Australia had converged on the CBD streets. We hardly saw any floats; the crowd along the parade route was metres deep. Luckily, a group of topless, buff guys in glittery cowboy hats walked past us and created a stir. I'd say that was the closest we got to the spirit of mardi gras. Everywhere else was just loud yobbos, hysterical girls in costume, and bottles of beer rolling down gutters [which I guess is part of mardi gras anyway?]. The following morning, when Rick went out to get takeaway breakfast, the streets were full of rubbish and there was even crime scene yellow tape around a few areas.

Sunday

The following day, we did the requisite tourist's pilgrimage to Sydney Opera House and Circular Quay. I've been there before, but man, that is one helluva magnificent building. [Ona's photo op inserted here, specially].

In the afternoon, we had a swim in the hotel pool, Jack and the girls, which was rather fun. Jack's been on weekly swimming "lessons" at Swim Stars, but it was nice to do something less structured. [Rick had to do a little catch-up nap after a 4.30AM start the previous day plus sorting out his dad's stuff for that whole day].

That night, we went out for dinner at I Chi Ban Teppan-Yaki restaurant, a brief stroll from the hotel. It was the most hilarious dining experience -- an unusual description, but apt and meant in a good way. We basically had to "work" for our food, with the chef getting us to catch whole fresh eggs with small bowls, catching strips of fried egg with our mouth, you get the idea. Teppan-yaki style basically involves a hot plate fixed in the middle of a communal dining table, where the chef prepares your meal. It's good fun, specially if you have the right chef.

Monday

We drove to Manly Oceanworld to see the sharks being fed. The experience was a strange mixture of disappointment and thrills. For the adult entry price of $18.50, it was absolutely a letdown. The sharks were being fed dead fish, which they rightly rejected (for the most part). On the other hand, I lurved the massive stingrays in the glass tunnel. One can't help but be awestruck when they glide overhead.

We then had lunch at the Bavarian Bier Cafe, which was a great find. They have roast pork belly with crackling that is just divine. Closest to lechon that I've ever had in Australia. With the delectable food, its location right on the wharf, and prompt service [the waitress genially flirted with Jack with peekaboos], it was a great dining highlight. I wish they'd come down to Melbourne!

So there it is, sort of the gist of our long weekend trip to Sydney. It won't come as a surprise to you that we all crashed when we got back home.

Stripping protest

2009-03-05T16:04:00.004+11:00

First it was the cabbies. In April 2008, after a spate of attacks against taxi drivers, particularly those from the subcontinent, protesters stripped off their tops at the corner of Flinders and Swanston Streets, demanding better safety measures such as pre-paid fare and security screens. [I remember thinking, Australians could take a page or two from that book on democracy].

Then, nearly a month after, gramps and grannies gathered, once again at the corner of Flinders and Swanston Streets to rail against lack of support for pensioners in the Federal budget. Some bras and long johns went on display.

And now, it's the firies (well, four firemen) who stripped to their jocks on Bourke Street in support of around 2,000 Pacific Brands workers whose jobs have been axed. [Pacific Brands makes the uniforms that firefighters wear].

Dropping your daks and other articles of clothing on the street in protest seems to have become the Melbourne equivalent of throwing shoes.

Children and the dark

2009-02-27T22:12:00.004+11:00

I don't understand why some people have an issue with Neil Gaiman's books being dark for children. They're probably the same people who don't read their children any fairytales because they fear that the kids won't be able to distinguish fiction from reality. [Not surprisingly, most parents of this ilk take their Bible a little too literally. PS I'm Catholic Christian].

It irks me. Mostly because it stunts the imagination, but also because it insults the intellectual capacity of children. Also, there's not a lot left of children's stories after you censor the dark parts. If literature were inseparable from reality and not merely its reflection [which is the going fear, as above], then wouldn't it be also harmful to only provide kids with a glossy, grossly incomplete picture of life? Even Disney films, often parodied for their saccharine version of fairytales, still let Bambi's mother die, and Simba's father die, and Dumbo's mother get locked up.

The reason I started thinking about this is that I'm now pretty close to memorising the 60 songs on Jack's nursery rhymes CD (Volume 2, published by ABC for Kids). Many of them of have pretty interesting lyrics.

For example, Cockles and Mussels includes the lines: "She died of a fever / And no one could save her / And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone". [Incidentally, this song is the unofficial anthem of Dublin].

Or take Goosie, Goosie, Gander, which talks about an old man being discovered in a lady's chambers, "who wouldn't say his prayers / so [he is taken] by the left leg / And [thrown] downstairs." Ah, those lovely Puritan days of England.

Then there's Bill Grogan who apparently loved his goat "just like a kid" but when that goat ate three red shirts off the clothesline, he ties the poor animal to a railroad track with an oncoming train.

Or consider the horror of Ladybird Ladybird: "Ladybird, ladybird fly away home / Your house is on fire and your children are gone".

What I'm saying is, these songs and stories, while morbidly entertaining, also provide numerous opportunities for children to connect with all aspects of life. Children should be allowed to peer into the dark. They might find a friendly face there.

Oscar wrap-up

2009-02-27T21:54:00.006+11:00

OK so this is, like, not how it's meant to be done in the blogosphere, writing several days after a big event. But what the hey. I just showed Rick a recording of Hugh Jackman's opening number and it reminded me that I enjoyed the 2009 Academy Awards soo much more than previous ceremonies...

* Jackman aced it. After all, he won a bloody Emmy for one of the three times he hosted the Tonys. His performance was refreshing, actually. Didn't seem too contrived (Billy Crystal), wry (Jon Stewart) or cute (Ellen Degeneres).

* The structure for the acting awards was just so powerfully emotive [well, at least for a die-hard like me]. When Tilda Swinton, etc came out and spoke directly to each of the Supporting Actress nominees, I was really taken by the sense of tradition, the prevailing sense of honouring talent instead of emphasising competition.

* The genre review of 2008 films was a bit pat, though.

* I was amazed by the complete lack of cringe-worthy speeches. In fact, many Awardees (OK, "winners") gave quite sensible, sometimes heartening speeches. I enjoyed Kate Winslet's quip on behalf of her fellow nominees about how they all can't believe they're in the same category as Meryl Streep.

* So my tips, apart for those for Slumdog Millionaire, sucked. But I'm still holding a candle for Amy Adams and Robert Downey Jr.