Plastic cup?

Dining out in Tassie is always a bit of a hit and miss affair. My hubby and I are FOODIES....yes siree, we like good food and we have been spoilt by living in Adelaide for many years where the reliability of restaurants is a given. You can be confident in Adelaide that if you spend $50 a head on food you are in for a pretty lovely dining experience, at a large number of establishments. Not so here in Tassie.

S and I had a belated valentines trip away to the east coast of this heart shaped isle, and spent the night in a rather lovely The view from the dining room is lovely: splendid even. But the food was a bit like my palette was staring at a neighbour's beige colourbond fence. Tasteless Sushi, poorly sliced sashimi, woeful tempura: and this was from a specialist Japanese restaurant charging much more than Adelaide's equivalent establishments.
For me, the saddest moment came when I asked for a glass of water, and the waitress suggested that I should get my own from a water cooler in the far corner. OK. I can do that. But when I looked for a glass, there were only plastic cups. I asked for a glass from the waitress (another traipse across the dining area) and she was shirty with me. Hmmm. Not only do I find a plastic cup awful to drink from (it reminds me of a dentist surgery waiting room, which is not a good thing if you read my last post!) but its totally environmentally mental too.

Wow, this post really is turning out to be a bit of a whingey rant, so I shall finish on a positive note:
Sleeping with the sound of the ocean entering my dreams, waking to the fantastic profile of cliffs below the cabins, and the morning sun shining in on the bed sheets (as well as being away with my lovely gentle and caring man) was uplifting, and restorative. Maybe there is other food for the soul worth blogging about!

Cracks in the system

I am working for a dentist with an obsession about gaps. And cracks. He requires an absence of both in his picture perfect house. Its ironic that of all the projects I have managed, this project... the one that is meant to be gap free, seems to be attracting gaps and cracks at every turn. The builder, the engineer, all the consultants have worked so hard to try and deliver him perfection, only to be confronted with the reality of gaps between things, and, well, the consistency of imperfection.

I have a theory that the more anxious one is to create perfection (in anything) the greater the likelihood that impediments to this will come your way.

Head and house in a spin!

Still full house, and lots going on with my mum, sister and her partner all bunking in with us. Hubby is busy preparing Courses for students who are about to return to campus next week , and Im off to Adelaide for a short work trip. Whew!

And in the midst of all the comings and goings in the house, I cant believe I am sooooooooooo neglectful. For the first time ever, I completely forgot to collect my eldest daughter from school. Can you imagine how awful I feel? I looked at my watch at 3.16pm, after driving the 20minutes from town to where we live....and I thought hmmm..... Ive forgotten something..... hmmmmmm......FARRRK! I was 16 minutes too late to collect her, and the school is back in town!
So after a desparate and deflating call to the school I burnt rubber and flew back along the highway to pay penance at the school front office. Poor darling girl was sitting quietly reading a libary book. After a kiss she says "dont worry mum: I knew you would come!"

And now I will wait by the letter box for the speeding fine I know is coming. Sigh... and it is my karmic due. Strangely enough I am happy to pay it as I think, this time, it's deserved.

The Watch

Oh! Do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch.

Jane Austen
quote from yesterday

Friday haiku: Full house

House full to the brim!
laughter ring, walls bright with sound
cat slinks between beds

Gift debt

Nothing amuses me more than the easy manner with which everybody settles the abundance of those who have a great deal less than themselves.

Jane Austen

Again, a weird synchronicity between what the subject of my post today, and the auto-cue Jane Austen quote. Although, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure that Jane is on the money here; sometimes there seems to be a bit too much Victorian meanness, or soured sentiment in her holier than though messages from England long gone. But still, a resonance non-less-less with the idea of giving and receiving.

I have a new friend here in Tassie who has 3 boys kids under 4, and her life is full with the incredible task of juggling their needs. She is lovely, I mean really lovely, and keeps on giving me stuff. Shoes for my daughter that she has outgrown, vegetables from her garden, wool from her alpacas, and now her husband has offered to help us by trimming down some bar stools with his circular saw... Lots of stuff... Nice neighbourly stuff.

Ive been struggling with the idea of being given things,and not feeling like I have to 'match the gift'. Or conversely, the idea that you should give, and then 'you shall receive'. Either way their is an expectation that a favour must necessarily be returned. Why is it so hard to accept that a gift is in fact just that. A gift freely given, and needs not a gift in return? Is it the capitalist sentiment that expects a settlement of a kind of gift-debt?

I would like to just be able to accept a gift, without a feeling of obligation (and I'm sure that its just me feeling the sense of obligation in the case of my generous new friend). So how do we begin to retrain ourselves in the art of receiving? Does this strike a cord with you? Any ideas?

First day of school

If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.

Jane Austen

This is today's Jane Austen quote, which I am enjoying for its synchronicity with the material I would like to write about.
My youngest daughter was up before dawn, dressed in her school uniform, and eating breakfast with her sister when I stumbled into the kitchen at a quarter to seven. And I had thought there would be some reluctance on her part in going to school today, but no! This was something S was more than ready for. She had her bag packed and ready by the front door, and asked me if I wanted to make her lunch now, or later after my shower. Hmmmmmm....
(By the way this is a stark contrast to my eldest daughter who often goes to school minus at least one of the following: bag, hat, lunch box, library books, brushed hair etc...) So this is a new era of school life for my littley and I hope that school will be a place where her curiosity and creativity are encouraged. That's pretty much my expectation of the school system.

Anyway... reading the Austen quote made me reflect on what i could remember of my first day: a smell of solvo, the warm hand of my new teacher, my mum reassuringly beside me, the scratchy fabric of my jumper, and the first game of word fish we played. I felt scared, and I think I cried. (Mum, if you are reading this, do you recall this moment?)

But then, here is my little one nonchalantly waving me goodbye and tucking into a crafty making table (helping herself to lots of sparkly pipe cleaners) with her new best friend, and I'm no longer required. Until the bell goes at 3pm.

So, if you are reading this, how much do you remember of this pivotal moment in your life?Is it a memory that you need to dredge up from the recesses of your mind, or it freshly marked 'as if it were yesterday'? your thoughts and stories are most welcome!