Don't get me wrong, I love Summer. Love taking dinner down to the beach in the evenings, swimming lessons, long school holidays, shorts and tank tops etc....
But enough already!!
It's MARCH!
We should be in Autumn - leaves changing colour, cooler days, a little chill in the evening air maybe?
Nope - I think Summer is putting up a good fight to stay longer this year and Autumn is a bit too cruisy to resist...
So today I put the air-con on (yet again) when I got home from church, baked some comforting pumpkin scones for afternoon tea and plonked on the couch to read blogs from the Northern Hemisphere. Scrolling through pages and pics of homemade blankets and cozy fireplaces - aaaaah. Dreaming of rain - you know, that wet stuff that hasn't fallen from our Western Australian skies for AGES.
I then pulled out my Jamie Oliver and Stephanie Alexander cookbooks for some menu planning inspiration, before viewing the forecast for the week...... No soups or hearty slow cooked casseroles for a while yet.
I think this is the first year ever that I'm looking forward to winter.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Gleaning
Now I'm not very well known for my crafting ability.
I can garden - and I love gardening, and I can cook - very well actually (aaah, so modest too!). Most of my friends wouldn't refer to me as "Linda the crafter", but after today that may change......!
My Mum mentioned to me that there is a craft group at the church over the road from her house and that maybe I should take the kids along. Being new to this homeschooling gig I thought we'd check it out today.
So very glad we did.
It's in the church hall and full of interesting people from all walks of life - well mainly those in their twilight years. We had an introduction day today, made name badges for ourselves and worked out what we might like to do. We had such a lovely morning, met some delightful people and got some fantastic ideas for future projects.
Isn't it amazing what we can learn from those of other generations?
I saw my 13 year old son talking with an elderly gentleman about woodworking and having a laugh with some ladies trying to make a bird feeder, while Miss 10 was being her usual social butterfly self and charming all the little old ladies by asking questions about card making, mosaic tiling and crocheting. I myself had idealistic visions of quilting and crochet and a homemade Christmas!! (Hmmmmm - keep dreaming Linda) I was so proud of the way my kids behaved themselves today, they were in the company of much older people and some special needs people and they shone. (No, I'm not going into a big "how good are my kids" post - I was just really proud of them today)
The thing I really enjoyed about today though was gleaning.
Watching those whose lives are unhurried, unworried, uncomplicated.
They've done their child raising, they've paid their mortgages off, they've finished their working years and they are now enjoying their grey hairs. Somehow, I think that the stresses and tension we place on our daily lives are foreign to that generation.
My Grandmother didn't have a microwave, a washing machine, a dryer or any modern appliances but she still managed to cook, clean and wash for a family of 7 and raised them in a 2 bedroom home. My mother didn't have a dryer but managed to keep my siblings and I in clean/dry cloth nappies for a few years. She grew our vegies and made our clothes, knitted our jumpers and baked our treats, read us stories, showed us sunsets, taught us skills and loved us. Yes I remember stressful times with Mum (especially when I was a teenager), but I'm sure she spent more quality time with us when we were kids than I do with mine.
So on top of my week of encouragment I'm going to take a leaf out of Grandma's, Mum's and all the oldies at the craft group's book and stress less, I'm going to smell the flowers I grow, let Miss 10 bake and forget about the mess, go on walks to the skate park with Mr 13, talk with them, listen to them, make things, craft more, worry less and enjoy my life - every minute of it.
I can garden - and I love gardening, and I can cook - very well actually (aaah, so modest too!). Most of my friends wouldn't refer to me as "Linda the crafter", but after today that may change......!
My Mum mentioned to me that there is a craft group at the church over the road from her house and that maybe I should take the kids along. Being new to this homeschooling gig I thought we'd check it out today.
So very glad we did.
It's in the church hall and full of interesting people from all walks of life - well mainly those in their twilight years. We had an introduction day today, made name badges for ourselves and worked out what we might like to do. We had such a lovely morning, met some delightful people and got some fantastic ideas for future projects.
Isn't it amazing what we can learn from those of other generations?
I saw my 13 year old son talking with an elderly gentleman about woodworking and having a laugh with some ladies trying to make a bird feeder, while Miss 10 was being her usual social butterfly self and charming all the little old ladies by asking questions about card making, mosaic tiling and crocheting. I myself had idealistic visions of quilting and crochet and a homemade Christmas!! (Hmmmmm - keep dreaming Linda) I was so proud of the way my kids behaved themselves today, they were in the company of much older people and some special needs people and they shone. (No, I'm not going into a big "how good are my kids" post - I was just really proud of them today)
The thing I really enjoyed about today though was gleaning.
Watching those whose lives are unhurried, unworried, uncomplicated.
They've done their child raising, they've paid their mortgages off, they've finished their working years and they are now enjoying their grey hairs. Somehow, I think that the stresses and tension we place on our daily lives are foreign to that generation.
My Grandmother didn't have a microwave, a washing machine, a dryer or any modern appliances but she still managed to cook, clean and wash for a family of 7 and raised them in a 2 bedroom home. My mother didn't have a dryer but managed to keep my siblings and I in clean/dry cloth nappies for a few years. She grew our vegies and made our clothes, knitted our jumpers and baked our treats, read us stories, showed us sunsets, taught us skills and loved us. Yes I remember stressful times with Mum (especially when I was a teenager), but I'm sure she spent more quality time with us when we were kids than I do with mine.
So on top of my week of encouragment I'm going to take a leaf out of Grandma's, Mum's and all the oldies at the craft group's book and stress less, I'm going to smell the flowers I grow, let Miss 10 bake and forget about the mess, go on walks to the skate park with Mr 13, talk with them, listen to them, make things, craft more, worry less and enjoy my life - every minute of it.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Critique or Criticise?
Here's something you probably don't know about me.
I love to read fiction.
I could walk to my local library and sit there for hours when I was a kid, I would ride my bike home with a basket full of books and sit up with a torch at night under the covers reading. Occasionally I would find a dubious "teen" book and discuss it with Mum. I know it was her who encouraged my love of the written word.
A few years later I discovered the "Queen of Crime" Agatha Christie and I was hooked.
I love her books and am thrilled every time ABC has a telemovie on. I try to imagine the settings (having never been to England or seen an English village) and would consider my ultimate night out to be a "murder/mystery dinner"!
After a particularly enthralling Miss Marple episode last week I tried to explain to hubby (not a reader) what my addiction was and why. I googled Agatha Christie and tried to impress him with her many feats; being known as the best selling author of all time, writing over 80 mystery novels and many plays, being outsold only by the bible etc. I obviously didn't impress him much as he was snoring while I was reading..........
I kept reading and googling and was a little miffed to find some negative reviews about my beloved Agatha. Mostly they were such petty things like - her famous fiction detective Hercule Poirot would have been over 100 if her novels were written chronologically (um - it's fiction!) or - she must have been racist to have referred to foreigners as "foreigners" (heaven forbid!) etc. I found it weird that people felt that they must say something negative. That they must criticise.
I have always been under the impression that to critique is to review or analyse something in order to make it better ie, a recipe needing a tweak, a budget that's just not working, a room in your home that is decorated all wrong, a blog post that's not quite right and you need someone to critique it for you, to let you know where you are going off course. But that to criticise is to find fault with, express judgments about. At least that's what my old faithful dictionary says, but a modern google search of the word critique came up with this - "the art of criticism." Yuk.
How awful that it's apparently no longer what you do to improve something, it's now an artform.
I've been critiqued before, in the old sense - been corrected, nudged back onto the right path, been pointed in the right direction and accepted it, knowing that it's for my own good. I've been encouraged to try harder, go further, stretch bigger, tweak, improve, grow. Always by those who see potential in me for more.
I've also been criticised - many times, usually by those who care nothing for my improvement or for my own good!
How much more pleasant is it to accept critiquing than criticism?
Anyway, all of this to say - I am very good at criticising.
Yep. Me.
Especially at home. Finding faults. With my family.
Plop.
Praise God that there is a solution!
Prov 10: 31-32 - The Godly person gives wise advice..... The Godly speak words that are helpful.
So now my goal this week is to encourage. To nudge my children onto the right path, to direct, guide and lead. To build up and not put down. So that when they are older they will do what Agatha Christie did - ignore the critics.
I love to read fiction.
I could walk to my local library and sit there for hours when I was a kid, I would ride my bike home with a basket full of books and sit up with a torch at night under the covers reading. Occasionally I would find a dubious "teen" book and discuss it with Mum. I know it was her who encouraged my love of the written word.
A few years later I discovered the "Queen of Crime" Agatha Christie and I was hooked.
I love her books and am thrilled every time ABC has a telemovie on. I try to imagine the settings (having never been to England or seen an English village) and would consider my ultimate night out to be a "murder/mystery dinner"!
After a particularly enthralling Miss Marple episode last week I tried to explain to hubby (not a reader) what my addiction was and why. I googled Agatha Christie and tried to impress him with her many feats; being known as the best selling author of all time, writing over 80 mystery novels and many plays, being outsold only by the bible etc. I obviously didn't impress him much as he was snoring while I was reading..........
I kept reading and googling and was a little miffed to find some negative reviews about my beloved Agatha. Mostly they were such petty things like - her famous fiction detective Hercule Poirot would have been over 100 if her novels were written chronologically (um - it's fiction!) or - she must have been racist to have referred to foreigners as "foreigners" (heaven forbid!) etc. I found it weird that people felt that they must say something negative. That they must criticise.
I have always been under the impression that to critique is to review or analyse something in order to make it better ie, a recipe needing a tweak, a budget that's just not working, a room in your home that is decorated all wrong, a blog post that's not quite right and you need someone to critique it for you, to let you know where you are going off course. But that to criticise is to find fault with, express judgments about. At least that's what my old faithful dictionary says, but a modern google search of the word critique came up with this - "the art of criticism." Yuk.
How awful that it's apparently no longer what you do to improve something, it's now an artform.
I've been critiqued before, in the old sense - been corrected, nudged back onto the right path, been pointed in the right direction and accepted it, knowing that it's for my own good. I've been encouraged to try harder, go further, stretch bigger, tweak, improve, grow. Always by those who see potential in me for more.
I've also been criticised - many times, usually by those who care nothing for my improvement or for my own good!
How much more pleasant is it to accept critiquing than criticism?
Anyway, all of this to say - I am very good at criticising.
Yep. Me.
Especially at home. Finding faults. With my family.
Plop.
Praise God that there is a solution!
Prov 10: 31-32 - The Godly person gives wise advice..... The Godly speak words that are helpful.
So now my goal this week is to encourage. To nudge my children onto the right path, to direct, guide and lead. To build up and not put down. So that when they are older they will do what Agatha Christie did - ignore the critics.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
His will not mine
"I will be glad and rejoice in Your mercy and steadfast love, because You have seen my affliction, You have taken note of my life’s distresses" Psalm 31:7 Amplified
New Living translation "For you care about the anguish of my soul"
Got hit right between the eyes with this last night.
I was having a bit of a "why me God? Why not me God?" whinge to Him. Not questioning His reasons or His ways, just asking "why?" "why not?"
Bit of soul baring and secret revealing from this blogging Ruby-girl, putting it all out in public, but here goes....
Hubby and I have been on the infertility round-a-bout for a few years now. He has 3 older kids from his 1st marriage, I have 2 from mine and we love and adore them all dearly, we know that they are all amazing blessings and all 5 of them mean the world to us.
But we've been unable to have one of our own.
We've watched as people we know have had planned and unplanned pregnancies and rejoiced with them hoping that it will be our turn next for a "suprise" but it hasn't been.
We did the emotionally, physically and financially draining journey down the IVF road last year - unsuccessfully.
I met a woman in the waiting room having an embryo transfer the same day as me - 4 months later she happened into my work glowing with a pregnant bloom, while all my embryos had gone to heaven.
Someone very close to me was going through IVF at the same time as us and we shared phone calls and hormonal chats together - she is due in 4 weeks which means that we would have been due this week......
Oh my aching heart.
Last night I had a bit of a whinge, "Why not God? Why didn't ours work? Why?"
I spoke with a dear friend of mine today who, this week, has had her 3rd miscarriage.
"Why God?"
I don't know why. He knows
I don't understand His ways. His ways are higher
I only know what He told me last night;
He takes note of my lifes distresses, He cares about the anguish of my soul
I will be glad and rejoice in His mercy and steadfast love.
I will trust Him, at all times, whether or not I have the answers to "why God?"
New Living translation "For you care about the anguish of my soul"
Got hit right between the eyes with this last night.
I was having a bit of a "why me God? Why not me God?" whinge to Him. Not questioning His reasons or His ways, just asking "why?" "why not?"
Bit of soul baring and secret revealing from this blogging Ruby-girl, putting it all out in public, but here goes....
Hubby and I have been on the infertility round-a-bout for a few years now. He has 3 older kids from his 1st marriage, I have 2 from mine and we love and adore them all dearly, we know that they are all amazing blessings and all 5 of them mean the world to us.
But we've been unable to have one of our own.
We've watched as people we know have had planned and unplanned pregnancies and rejoiced with them hoping that it will be our turn next for a "suprise" but it hasn't been.
We did the emotionally, physically and financially draining journey down the IVF road last year - unsuccessfully.
I met a woman in the waiting room having an embryo transfer the same day as me - 4 months later she happened into my work glowing with a pregnant bloom, while all my embryos had gone to heaven.
Someone very close to me was going through IVF at the same time as us and we shared phone calls and hormonal chats together - she is due in 4 weeks which means that we would have been due this week......
Oh my aching heart.
Last night I had a bit of a whinge, "Why not God? Why didn't ours work? Why?"
I spoke with a dear friend of mine today who, this week, has had her 3rd miscarriage.
"Why God?"
I don't know why. He knows
I don't understand His ways. His ways are higher
I only know what He told me last night;
He takes note of my lifes distresses, He cares about the anguish of my soul
I will be glad and rejoice in His mercy and steadfast love.
I will trust Him, at all times, whether or not I have the answers to "why God?"
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