Just for shits and giggles today two, count ’em – TWO, different multifunction devices didn’t function at all. In fact, they reverse functioned – twice each before I walked away in disgust.
Also buggering up today was a small printer (jam) and a blInking flouro.
Two liquid soap dispensers in the work bathroom ran out. Today.
The work dishwasher was run half empty then some dolt put their grubby plate in with the just clean dishes, spilling food everywhere. And I had to pick up the food from behind the bin, cos a hole in the bench over the top of the bin is a bit hard to aim through. Shitheads.
I have multiple papercuts from recycling printed paper into small notebooks and bruised my hand when the binder combs flicked me.
Today was not my day!
Wow. Interesting day. Woke up with one intent – having agonized about the ins and outs of everything over the weekend. But when the time came, I stayed silent and held fire.
I have no idea why. I know I’m cautious by nature – overly so. I don’t start a recipe until I have all the ingredients ticked off and measured out. I don’t start a puzzle if I can’t see all the pieces. I hedged today. I can kid myself that it’s to wait and see, but I think it’s more that I’m scared of making the wrong decision.
That’s been happening a lot lately – being uncertain. I’m terrified of getting myself trapped.
I’ll have to give more thought to figuring this one out.
Well that is quite some outcome. Today, the Queensland Labor Party has been annihilated.
I love election days. I don’t like the campaigning, the speeches, the debates (if they happen) or the gazillion media opportunities splashed in front of me. I don’t trust them.
But I like voting. I like having my say. For my reasons that I don’t have to tell anyone, but I believe are reasonable and honest for me.
That’s what women handcuffed themselves to gates and got arrested for. That’s what they marched and picketed for. So that my voice would be heard as an equal one amongst the many. A lot of countries don’t let women vote. I am fortunate – and ever mindful and grateful for living in a country that does value my voice.
Monday is a hard day for me. If you’re like me, you’ve spent a bit of your weekend planning the to do list for the week. And if you’re like me, your list is a loooonnnnngggggg one – too long.
So come Monday morning, I hit the ground running. My self talk is all “I’ll do this first, then on the way to do this thing, I’ll pick up that thing and drop off two other things, and then I’ll get to work to start my 8hr day of to do things there”… No wonder I fall in a heap by mid afternoon!
Just to make things super interesting – and ramp up the difficulty by a factor of 2.5 – throughout, I chide myself that I’m not quick enough, finishing enough, creating enough, impressing enough. And because I’ve spent the day berating me, I go home – late – as a failure.
How did I get this screwed up? Maybe a realistic plan to move towards my goals (whilst still helping everyone else with there’s)? No?
Monday’s should become my ease-in day, my take my time day, my baby steps day. And not just a hell day to get through to the other side.
Downtime. That’s what Sunday’s were invented for. I’d like to say this is what my Sunday was like today, but no. It was filled with the chores I don’t get to during the week commuting to and from work, or the hectic errand filled time that is called Saturday.
Sundays are becoming endangered. There’s a risk of it not being a day of rest, but a day of catch up with every other bloody thing that hasn’t got done. Worse still, Sundays are being spent inside my head – mulling over what happened the day before and/or planning all the stuff to do on the dreaded Monday that follows.
I need to reclaim my Sunday. Say ‘no’ to everyone and do the want to do’s, not the have to do’s. Who’s with me?
One of the many things my mum has taught me is a love of handmade things. It doesn’t matter how “professional” they are in their execution, the only thing that matters is it’s made with love by someone thinking of gifting a piece of their time/love/skill/supplies to another.
To this end, Mum thought a funny gift for Christmas one year was some material, needles and thread for me to learn how to embroider. Hilarious woman 🙂
So one day a month, I go with my mum to her group afternoon session of crafty ladies. We sit and stitch (lots of different types of needlecraft) and I listen. The women are amazing. All full lives of families, friends, travels, work and most importantly, they talk about their plans for the future. I love listening to them. They make me laugh, they help me learn and I always have a better sense of perspective for my life when I leave.
It’s from here that the shots are called and the menu is planned, prepared and distributed to the guests. It’s important to remove yourself and sit back to consider the options. Who’s best with who and who’s not getting along with the others. Planning time. It’s very important – particularly when this place is more like a spa resort than a chook house, really.
Whoever said looking after chooks was easy has never done it. “Just chuck out some feed and collect the eggs”… as if!
Chooks need military precision! They need routine. And if they don’t get, by God, they’ll let you know about it. This is the mudmap I do when looking after Dad’s chooks. Do I overthink things? Probably. But what if one naughty hen pecks another and that one flies into the next pen with some others it’s not meant to mix with? Disaster! The boys have names, ‘cos they’re easier to distinguish. The girls in age groups for now.
I haven’t seen any wedgetail eagles around here for a few years. I believe they develop several nesting sites and rotate around them over their lives. Usually, we’ll see them in flight, waaaaay up high circling – but today was a lovely “welcome to country” from the couple.
As I drove in, over one grid, hang a right, through the boggy patch and straight on over the gravelly bit. The track veers right and down/up a couple-a hills before the last chicane down to the house.
And there they were. Sitting low on a tree’s branches – maybe they’d just fed? Unless you’ve seen them, you have no idea how friggin HUGE they are. And beautiful, just beautiful.
I turned off the engine, grabbed the camera and walked up slowly. The lady moved off to a tree further away and the man followed. They were not concerned, but sat on the far side of the next tree trunk so they could play hidey –go-seek with me.
I took it slow but knew they’d move again. Girl first, boy second. Big wings beating, but not going up at all. They flew at level over to another copse of trees. I blew my camera battery entirely – and then when unpacking – realized I’ve forgotten my charger! Typical. One battery to last a week. This will be tricky – but I’ll go for a walk up to the old nest to see if they are any signs of recent renovations. Wish me luck.
I walked past these windows quite a few times before I saw the detail added to them. My lesson – a little more focus in the here and now and I would see the kind of depth I’m craving to find in my boring daily humdrum.
There are a million gifts of beauty for us all. Made and left where we might find them if we open our eyes. How many pieces of wonder do you walk past each day?
7:00 Great walking. A bit of slipping in the mud. A careful eye on the uneven ground in front. A thud from a low hanging branch. A bit of laughing. A leach caught before it’s dastardly act. A dramatic re-enactment of it’s woeful attempt to do evil. More laughing. Silence at the waterfall. A bit of sweat and puffing on the walk back up.
8:00 Terrific start to the day.
What an absolute shit of a day. For some inexplicable reason, there’s a lot of tension in the air, ‘cos everyone around me is sounding off, arcing up, pointing fingers and NOT LISTENING to each other. If they could all just shut up for 5 seconds, and think about why the person they are arguing at is saying what they’re saying, and not keep repeating what they think as if it’s not being understood, then my life would be much easier.
I hate conflict. I can talk a good fight but that doesn’t mean I like them. I don’t like hearing harsh words, I actually physically flinch when it’s around me. My body language never lies. It makes me sad to see people choose sides and not give the benefit of the doubt to each other. Prejudgement and holier than thou certainty by people who don’t actually know the facts gives me the complete irits. Who the hell do they think they are anyway?
Three different adults today have disappointed me…and I won’t forget it, but I’m going to work very hard on letting this nonsense wash over and around me. Not through me. My nerves can’t take.