don’t forget the bloody tag!

 


Today is Melbourne Cup day and to be honest, I’ve never put money on a horse and I believe every time a horse has to be put down so should the rider because the jockey choses to risk his life but the horse doesn’t get a choice.  I do however like an opportunity to frock up, to have a parmie at the pub and catch up with the cool chicks in Laura. This morning as I was getting ready for lunch I took some photos to send to my daughter because I was borrowing one of her fascinators… and guess what, I almost did it again!! I almost went out with the bloody tag still attached to the wig!!

It reminds me of the day I met a good mate in town to buy my first wig, we met at the Malls Balls and I had about 15 strands left of my gorgeous hair, when I saw Tricia I burst into tears because I felt like shit. Tricia hugged me and said we can stand here and cry or we can go and get you a wig. I had the best day trying on wigs, having lunch, chatting about life and just before we parted ways we went to the ladies for a pee… as Tricia came out of the cubicle she started laughing because I’d spent the entire afternoon strutting around Rundle Mall feeling like a million bucks with my new wig not realising the tag had been sticking out the back!!

The moral of this story is don’t forget to cut of the tags when you’ve bought a new wig but also don’t forget how much laughter, deep connections and pure joy can be found in the fucking awful times. I used to tell my kids you can either laugh at the tough times or sit in the fucking corner and rock, I know what I’d prefer to do… and next year I’m hoping to be really brave and win the best fascinator prize again but this time with no wig on – if I could do that I’d really feel like a million bucks! xx

love


While I was taking a break from the suffocating proximity of an ex-boyfriend which was messing with my head I spent a lot of time at Normanville beach stomping the sand. One day as Hudson and I were walking along I passed an old couple who were clinging on to each other for dear life, they were deep in conversation, possibly about the new hips they need, possibly about the fact that their hearing aids just weren’t do the job anymore and possibly reminiscing about times gone by. The old girl had more goat hairs on her chin than the feral goats that greet you as you’re coming into Broken Hill (yes I may be jealous that she had more hairs on her chin than I have on my entire body) but my point is she looked every bit her age yet her husband was listening intently to her with love, interest and a soft caring look in his eye.

There aren’t very many things that make me jealous in life but two things that get me every time are people who can afford to have acreage and a horse and people who have been in long term relationships that seem to be loving and happy. Having said that, I’ve met very few people whose relationships I admire, however my parents have been married for 47 years… they’ve had their fair share of difficult times and heartache but I never heard them fight when I was growing up, I often and still hear them laughing and they genuinely enjoy each other’s company. I always thought I’d be one of those people but at the ripe old age of almost 45 I’m starting to think I may not be one of the lucky ones. Am I sad about that? Sometimes and sometimes I hope that I will find someone to share the next 45 years with but most of the time I’m happy on my own.

I think it’s really important to make our own joy and to be happy alone rather than stay in miserable relationships that are toxic, harmful and without respect. But I also think we can learn a lot from the previous generation who seem to know how to make relationships last the test of time. Working in Aged Care has really made me realise what is important at the end stages of life, the people I care for who seem to be the happiest are the ones who have had meaningful relationships whether it be with their children, their friends or their life partners. I know for certain that when I’m getting close to falling off my perch I am going to have tons of beautiful memories to keep a smile on my face because even though I haven’t met my soul mate I have met some amazing people who are a complete treasure to spend time with. Cheers to growing old, fat and content whether it be with some old geeza by your side or alone with all the great memories of people met along the way, unique experiences and magical places visited. xx

when your arse gets stuck in the fence!

 


I’ve been babysitting my daughters’ dogs this past month and during our walk the other day we came across a sheep who was unfortunately on the wrong side of the fence. My daughters’ dogs are working dogs who are trained to round up sheep, I tried to stop them, I gave myself a sore throat screaming at them but with no luck… Jim & Bess chased the poor bugga and brought it to me!

The dogs kept the sheep standing near me for a minute and then the fat sheep took off towards the fence which did not have a gate, it did not have an opening or any possible way the daft sheep was going to be able get back to its friends. Of course the bloody sheep got its massive arse stuck in a very small opening of the fence!! By this stage Jim, Bess & Hudson (he felt like part of the team and was loving it) were barking at this poor sheep who was kicking and shitting all over my boots. There was no way this sheep was going to get its fat fluffy arse through the fence without human intervention, so I squeezed the sheep butt cheeks together whilst trying to squish down the wool and finally shoved its fat arse and then legs thru the fence.

As I chased the dogs back to the ute, in hope of kicking their arse, I started laughing at what had just happened. There have been many many times where I have been where that poor sheep just was, we cannot go through life without our arse getting stuck in the fence, sometimes we will shit ourselves, sometimes we will keep fighting to free ourselves and sometimes we just give up and have a rest in that difficult place. I’m lucky to have incredible family and friends who have never left my arse stuck in the fence and I think if we learn and become stronger individuals from our ‘arse stuck in the fence’ moments then we’re doing ok. xx

rain on a tin roof…

Nothing beats the sound of rain on a tin roof, especially when you know it means you probably won’t get a water bill for another year. When I’m sitting on the crapper I can hear the rain trickling into my rainwater tank and it always brings a smile to my face. You probably don’t need an image of a mad baldie sitting on the crapper with a grin on her face but hey it’s something that brings me great joy!

I live in a farming town and as I walk my dog along the dirt roads it saddens me to see the crops looking so dry and small for this time of year. My heart goes out to our farmers who are doing it tough and I admire the resilience they have because some of them haven’t had decent rain for years.

Speaking of doing it tough… I’m not one for TV but I have been watching a few shows on the ABC of late and last night’s episode of Four Corners was particularly interesting to me. I’ve only been working in Aged Care for four weeks so I don’t feel I have the right to comment on the industry but what I will say is even though I am one of those “untrained” workers I love my job. I’ve always had a soft spot for the elderly, they are interesting, funny and resilient and in my opinion they possess a strength of character and morals that are hard to find nowadays.

I love listening to their stories of working on farms, raising their children, husbands going off to war and hearing about the difficult things they have endured. But I also love the fact that some of the residents have no filter anymore and say whatever they like. Today as I was serving morning tea my favourite resident was following me around, he finally sat down and let me make him a cuppa but after just one sip of his cup of tea I was promptly told it taste like fucking shit. His comment has brought a smile to my face all day.

So whether it be rain on a tin roof, working in a job that makes you smile or being with people who leave you feeling refreshed and better about life, I hope you’re able to smile about the little things because they are often what bring huge amounts of joy. xx

trailer loads of shit…

 

A lot has happened since my last post; I found out that I was no longer required at my job, I’ve had two separate failed contracts on my cottage and I started my studies in Aged Care. But the clever north wind has a way of guiding us to where we need to be and yes I am aware that it has blown me around quite a bit of late however I feel lucky that I can up-sticks and go wherever I need to be at any given time.

The past 6 months in this town have been worthwhile, enjoyable and another interesting learning curve for me. I’ve spent most Saturday nights eating the most delicious Italian food and sharing a glass of wine with friends. I’ve spent hours stomping the sand (which has helped reduce my fat arse somewhat), I’ve enjoyed breathing in the incredibly clean fresh air, I’ve seen more of my son and my sister and I’ve started studying which is something I’ve talked about doing for over a decade.

I think the two failed contracts on my cottage were a sign from above that I am meant to return to it and enjoy my virtually cost free existence there. I am not sad that I’ve had 6 months away from my humble little abode because it has given me the emotional disconnect from an ex-boyfriend that I should have made happen two years ago. This experience has also taught me that I cannot have a mortgage, debt makes me anxious so I dare say I shall be living in my cottage until they shove my fat arse into a crematorium until my children can afford to fly to Scotland and sprinkle my ashes around Aberdeen.

My parents have lived in the same house for over 40 years and tried to bring us up in a stable and consistent household however it seems my sister, my daughter and I all have gypsy bloody flowing through our veins, when the clever north wind blows, it gets us every time! My parents hate change, we love it!!! On that note, I must go haul my 3rd trailer load of shit back to my cottage. Bye for now… who knows where I will be writing my next blog post from but I can assure you I will have met more interesting characters and have more memories to hold on to from my gypsy wanderings.

Perfect hair vs Perfect head?

 

I often ask myself what matters most in life, what can I live without to make my life more simple? At the moment I’m trying to decide if having a mortgage again is worth it to be near the sea or if I’d rather move back to the Mid-North in order to have the freedom of no debt. I live a very basic life, my motto is the less I consume the less I have to work. I prefer to burn candles than electricity, I prefer to put up with the heat or the cold than have large electricity bills, I hate shopping and I will never have an expensive car because I don’t want a car loan. Call me an unmotivated lazy git I don’t mind cos I’m happy with the basics in life.

However, if I had to choose between perfect hair or having my perfect head constantly exposed and challenged, I hate to admit it but most days I would choose the more shallow and superficial option. I try to convince myself that hair is a ‘basic’ item that I simply do not need and as you can see from my t-shirt hair was something the man upstairs invented for you poor suckers who have awful shaped heads but it is still something I wish I had, damn it!!!

Funny thing is, I feel I have become more appreciative of the important things in life since losing my perfect hair so why is it we put so much emphasis on how we look!? We can blame the media, the celebrities but in reality we are our own worst enemy and it’s time to go back to basics, not just in everyday living but in the way we see ourselves and what’s really important.

Enjoy, celebrate and embrace your shell (no matter how imperfect you think it is) cos it’s what allows you to spend time with your loved ones, it allows you to walk through the forest, it allows you to share a good meal with mates, it allows you help others and it allows you to feel the joy these basic but amazing experiences bring. xx

what’s important?


I live for moments with my favourite human beings and this past weekend I was fortunate enough to spend 3 full days with one of my most favourite human beings but the flip side of that is I feel sad when I drive away from my baby girl, yes I am becoming a soppy emotional fool and I make no apologies for that – tears, sadness, disappointment are emotions I have learnt to embrace.

As I was driving through the area I used to live yesterday I felt sad, I smiled at the thought of happy memories and the new friendships I made, I felt angry, I felt ripped off, I felt determined and I felt proud of myself for making a dream come true – if my car had an emotion gauge it would have been all over the fucking joint. It took me 3 years to work out where I wanted to live when my son left home and I started with a simple list which said – get the hell out of the suburbs and get rid of the mortgage. I carefully researched all the areas in South Australia and once I decided Laura was the town for me I made it happen. As I drove through that area yesterday I felt annoyed with myself for not sticking to my guns about contact with Ex’s when a relationship is over.

I have learnt a lot about myself through that experience and where I am living now is beautiful, the beach is 3kms away and the climate is cooler (which is great for us beautiful baldies who effectively wear a hat all year round) but… yes there’s a but… I feel like I’m back in the burbs, there aren’t enough wide open spaces and unless I rent for the rest of my life I will have a mortgage again. So I’m back to researching areas that are quiet, isolated, cheap but nice and not too far from the humans I love. What’s the moral of this story/blog post? I have no fricking idea other than to stay; stick to your guns on things that are important to you, make your dreams a reality – even if it takes a few goes! Make sure you allocate time to spend with the humans you love and don’t forget to let your favourite humans know how much they mean to you. xx

why?


Do you ever ask why you? Why the hell did your husband have an affair, why is your child sick, why were your parents taken from you so soon, why was your childhood so traumatic, why, why, why!? I’ve always been a “roll with the punches” kind of person but sometimes, especially when I see whole families together and the mum with a nice head of hair, I get sick of rolling with the punches and really want to punch someone or something instead!

I was reading an article today about Alopecia and the article stated that Alopecia affects only 2% of the population worldwide – how the hell did I end up being one of the few unlucky people to have this strange disease that only affects 2% of 7.6 billion people, what are the odds of that!!!

Why couldn’t it have been something else that I lost? I have always hated wearing hats and beanies but now I wear an itchy bloody wig every day, I have always been shit at being creative with make-up and as you can see from the photo above my fake eyebrows look bloody ridiculous!!! Why is it we often loose the thing(s) that are most important to us?

To be honest, I don’t think there’s an answer to this question. Life can be bloody hard work and everyone has lost things that are precious but as Gandalf says; “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us” and I think that includes being careful not to allow the loses in our life to ruin the time we have been given.

When I’m having a sad day about my family being destroyed and my lovely long locks falling out, I remind myself that even though life can be shit sometimes I am lucky to be alive and I need to make the most of the time I have on this planet. I was blown away by the view as I was driving home from Yoga this morning, I am lucky enough to be able to attend (and do a bloody miserable job of the yoga poses) every week at my favourite spot in South Australia! As I stopped to take a photo of the view I felt incredibly grateful for where I am right in this minute, maybe if I hadn’t lost some fairly important things in life I wouldn’t be so good at appreciating the small things in life? Who bloody knows? 🙂

Staying put

 


Six weeks ago I moved to my new town in the pursuit of peace, privacy and another fresh start. I knew I’d made the right decision coming to this town because it’s a region that I’ve spent a lot of time in and I feel at home here but I was feeling disheartened about having to work in yet another boring job so I applied for a Governess job on a station in the NT and surprisingly got the job!!

When it came time to do a trial run of leaving my 4 legged man behind I freaked out. I realised I couldn’t abandon this crazy little creature who has been there for me every time I’ve felt lost, hurt or alone over the past 5 years. I’m disappointed about not being able to go on this adventure but even if Hudson came with me he would feel like he’d been naughty if I left him in a cage all day (which would be the safest place for him on a station) but not something he would have coped with.

I feel annoyed with myself for getting excited about an adventure that wasn’t fair to my dog and I’ve been asking myself why is it that I feel the need to do something out of the ordinary? I have a mate who has enjoyed nearly all the jobs she’s had and I’ve often asked her if that’s because she’s a more content person than me or does she just have more normal and realistic expectations of life? The Hobbit has never come out and told me I am a diva who expects too much from life but that’s quite possibly what she’s thinking.

Anyhoo, I don’t have an explanation for why I feel the need to do crazy out-there kind of things but I do have a plan to avoid living a boring life. It quite possibly involves buying more than one lotto ticket each year and it may also include saying yes to a job here in my new town that I’ve never done before and that will be just as challenging and exciting as taking on the Governess role.

What I can tell you is I am staying put for now, at least when I reach the dribbling and insane stage of life I will be able to drive my kids nuts by reminiscing about all the different jobs I’ve worked in, the places I’ve lived and wonderful people I’ve met along the way… life wasn’t meant to be boring 🙂

We won’t cry

Just after I lost my hair in March 2016 I set off in my little green Rav to the Man from Snowy River Bush festival, if you love the MFSR movie or poem by Banjo Paterson you will know about this festival which happens every year in the Victoria High Country, if you don’t know about the movie or poem then there is something wrong with you and I don’t think we can be friends!! 🙂 I had bought two tickets for this festival almost a year prior and planned on doing the trip with my partner at the time so when we broke up just before the festival I almost didn’t go, then when all my bloody hair fell out and I really didn’t want to go but this festival had been on my bucket list for years.

Road trips in our family always meant buying a few new CD’s, one of the songs on the CD I purchased for this trip was called We won’t cry by Archie Roach. Archie has had a bloody hard life, he was stolen from his family when he was three years old, his soul mate died of a heart attack at their home, he’s battled cancer which left him with half a lung and he’s had a stroke. When you listen to We won’t cry you can tell this man has been to hell and back but he is still facing the world one day at a time.

I had tears pouring down my face as I listened to this song over and over because it made me think of all that I had lost but I told myself that I had to sing this song out loud all the way to Corryong and back (22 hours of driving in total) until I could sing it without crying. I would like to tell ya that I managed to sing it without crying on that trip but I did not.

As I was waiting in line for my wrist band to give me access to all aspects of the MFSR festival I decided to pick the poorest looking bastard in the queue and give him my spare ticket. I approached an old fella with a ripped shirt and jeans and handed him the ticket. We chatted on the steps of the information centre then the old codger asked me to go with him to the ATM so he could give me the money for the ticket. I told him the money wasn’t important I just didn’t want the ticket to go to waste, I will never forget what happened next. Old mate cried on the steps of the information centre as he explained that money wasn’t an issue for him as he’d just sold his caravan park for 5 mil, he has 2 mil in superannuation and 2 mil in the bank and he had been planning to bring his wife to the festival for years but she had recently passed away so now he would never get to share this with her. I told old mate that if he really needed to give me the money for the ticket I’d be at the coffee shop next door for a bit.

Me and the old fella sat in the sunshine on the main street of Corryong and chatted like lifelong friends for over two hours. Driving for two days to get to this festival (even if I did cry like a big sook all the way there) was worthwhile just to spend a bit of time with this lovely old gentleman who was feeling as lost as I was.

The moral of this story is we WILL cry but we WILL survive and if we force ourselves to do things that seem impossible we will meet amazing human beings along the way that inspire us to be better people and in my opinion, trips like this make life worth living.