Posts tagged ‘music’


Does anyone else remember Space Food Sticks? They were these weird snack type thing. The consistency of half dried Play-Doh and with a flavour vaguely reminiscent of chocolate? For some reason I thought of them about a month ago and thought I’d buy some for the nostalgia value. But I couldn’t find any at the supermarket, so I googled them. Apparently production stopped on Space Food Sticks in 2014. Maybe there was a public outcry or a farewell ceremony but if there was I missed it. And now they don’t exist anymore.

Next month will be twenty years since a very dear friend of mine died. I know that because I was pregnant with Son Number Two at the time, and here he is, almost twenty years old. I dreamt about my friend the other night. In my dream I was so happy to see him. After all these years Malcolm, you are still so missed.

Last night I spent a couple of hours putting together a piece for my wall that I have been assembling in my head for weeks and, I guess in one way and another, I have been working on for years. It’s a huge Kmart poster size frame with a marriage equality poster from the campaign in the centre. Around that I have put photos ranging from a rainbow flag Daughter Number One had drawn, to a photo of her on her 14th Birthday – her last birthday- with her beloved best friend, to the wedding we attended before it was legal with Daughter Number Two dancing with Son Number Two, to rally’s for Marriage Equality and the memorial service for the Pulse victims. There were photos from the Pride Parade and the newspaper report from the wedding we attended that was one of the first legal same sex marriages in Australia, where Daughter Number Two wore the same gown she had worn to the non-legal wedding a couple of years before. All those times, separate but linked.

A rainbow collage of years and memories and meanings and people but mostly love. I am looking forward to hanging it on the wall, where I can see it and remember and be glad.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, we went to a camp. There was a ‘silent auction’ there. Items were placed on tables with pieces of paper where you could write your bid for the item and the highest bid would win. As we walked around looking at the items I could see Daughter Number One’s name written in her childish hand on item after item. I was appalled! Asked her what she was doing? Didn’t she know we couldn’t afford to pay for these things if she won? Daughter Number One protested strongly. She hadn’t written her name on anything! She didn’t know why it was there!

It turned out there was another girl at the camp with the same name, and, incredibly, a birthday one year and a day different from Daughter Number One’s. After that camp they became pen pals and exchanged letters for years.

When Daughter Number One was murdered there were many people I had to tell but, as silly as it sounds, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her friend with the same name. It felt too wrong. Like I was telling her about her own death almost. I know that’s not logical but that’s how it felt. It’s something I still feel guilty about to this day because it didn’t give my Daughter’s friend the opportunity to attend her funeral. I took that from her and I will always be sorry for that.

But this girl, with the same name as my Daughter, this beautiful, generous girl heard about Daughter Number One’s murder through the extensive media coverage and sent me a card. Over the years she has kept in touch with me. We chat on Messenger sometimes. She’s a pilot now, based overseas. A female pilot, which is pretty fucking special. The other week she sent me a video and the message attached said she hoped I’d enjoy it. It was footage taken by her co-pilot, in the cockpit, of her landing a plane. IT WAS AMAZING! And that she thought to send me the video means more to me than words can say. I saved it onto my phone.

All of the years and the memories and the meanings and the people and most of all the love. And I remember. And I am glad.



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So here we are my friends, the start of another year. Positively packed full of promise and possibilities! For me, it feels like so much has happened already. We’ve already had the first full moon of 2015 and the day before yesterday I rode a bicycle for the first time in literally years. Despite the exceedingly warm weather I have been doing lots of walking; talking the talk, walking the walk! After hellishly hot days I relish the cool change breeze that whips the washing on the line and comes through my window in the evenings, dancing down my skin. Spending time with My Young Friend and his lovely fiancée and seeing the world through their eyes is refreshing and adds a certain youthfulness that I enjoy.


As we continue on the adventure of life there are a few things I know for sure:

*There is beauty all around us if we allow ourselves to see it.

*I am privileged to have the very best of people as my friends.

*There is a whole big wide world out there.

*Sometimes getting lost is the way to find yourself.

*I am the author of my own story.

*Life is short.

*When all else is gone, love is what remains.


The other day I was out for lunch and there were television screens playing music videos. The first three songs that played after we were seated at our table were “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’ ” by Nancy Sinatra, “I’m Still Standing” by Elton John and “Happy” by Pharrell Williams. True story! And that about sums it up really. Another year, life goes on!

So LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE! Goodbye 2014! 

Safe onward travel everyone x

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Like a Bat out of Hell I’ll be gone when the morning comes.

Meatloaf is playing and the rain is coming down as we drive through the night. It has been a good day, as days go.

I am enjoying spending time with my friends and loved ones. I am enjoying having some fun. I expect it is a good thing that my present partner in mischief is married to another lovely friend or else our hi jinks may know no bounds. As it is I have to return him in good condition after borrowing him.

Driving back I have organized another date with some other good friends, so I have that to look forward to, and more tentative arrangements to confirm. Gotta love the technology!

All things considered it’s been a good day. Good friends, good music, good fun.

Travel safe x

Hold me fast, ’cause I’m a hopeless Wanderer.

When I alighted from the train this afternoon I was listening to Mumford and Sons. I was enjoying it so much and was so into the music that I missed the turn off to my destination and had walked about three kilometres out of my way before I realized the scenery was less familiar. On my walks I tend to walk and walk and walk until I can’t walk anymore and only then turn around to walk home. My theory is that once I’m out there I don’t have a choice, I have to walk back. It’s a good theory but I’ve pushed it a bit in reality today. Once I realized my error I followed the train line through a national park back to my missed turn and began the trek home.



I had already walked all over town. Up and down stairs, in and out of arcades. I have no idea of the distances but I covered some ground. There were lots of Easter eggs displayed and other pretty, shiny things.




My find of the day was the Trinity Lunch Room. A church that now held art classes and the lunch room, where you can get a cup of tea for $1.50 but it’s b.y.o. lunch! Still, a dollar fifty for a hot drink is a bargain!





On my walk back to the train station to make my return journey I came across a busker. He was young; early to mid twenties, nice physique, tribal tatts on tanned arms, long dreadies. He was singing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, and he was singing it well, so I stopped to listen. His next and final song was ‘Fall at your feet’ by Crowded House, and again it was a lovely rendition. He closed with a modest ‘My name is Pete (Of course it is). Thank you for listening.’

On the contrary Pete, thank YOU! Nothing like a man who can sing!

It dark and late now. I’ve had my bedtime banter and the night is crisp and clear. My legs are sore. Time to rest.

Travel safe x

Words don’t come easy.

“Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic.” -Albus Dumbledore

I read the above quote on a posting by SocialJerk at It made me feel neglectful that I’ve not checked in. So I’m here. Not that I have much to say. I am going through the motions at the moment, with my focus on Son Number Two’s upcoming 13th birthday. A teenager. Amazing. I’m keeping busy thinking of ways to make him feel especially special and give his day the gravity it deserves.

Even though I’ve not been here words have still been my lifeline. I have been talking to this guy serving in Iraq. He was telling me what music he likes to listen to. A lot of it was dance music. That made me feel old, mostly because none of it was familiar to me. It would have been, back in the day. You know, when I wasn’t OLD. Still, it is always interesting to hear someone talk about the music that has meaning for them.

More words, with pictures, over at, The Word Made Flesh. This blog showcases tattoos with literary meaning. Since all my tatts fall into that category it’s obviously a style I appreciate, and again, it is very cool to hear people’s stories. Makes me itch for more ink though. Luckily for my bank balance I don’t have any ideas that I’m passionate enough about at present to want them permanently adorning my body. I am still totally in love with the ones I already have,very meaningful, so don’t really feel the need to get another just for the sake of it. Nor do I feel the need to share them with the world by submitting a photo to The Word Made Flesh, although I thought about it. I’m glad other people have. Is it selfish to enjoy looking at other people’s body art while not wishing to share my own? Maybe, but there you go. I am a selfish cow at heart.

In other news Baby Daddy sent me an email this week in which he continued to write as if english was his second language. It took considerable willpower not to pen a viciously sarcastic reply. Which may have made me feel better, assuming he’d be able to understand it. I have been, it must be said, somewhat deflated. Not all my recent online experiences have been good ones. I’ve been lucky to make a few good friends from people I’ve met on internet dating sites. I’m always clear on what I’m looking for. I just don’t do mucking people about. When one of the friends I thought I’d made suggested sex a month ago I was surprised and disappointed.  To say I did not see it coming was somewhat of an understatement. Look, I am a grown up. And I like sex as much as the next girl, honest! But I definitely wasn’t offering it and had no idea he was after it. His proposition was an unpleasant surprise. Still, living in a glass house myself I’ll give anyone the benefit of the doubt. I thought I’d let the dust settle. I left him as a friend on facebook and as a contact on MSN Messenger. Then the other day I was on my Windows Live profile, which is connected to Messenger. It sometimes pops up with friend suggestions – friends of friends that you may like to add to your own list. Except amongst the suggested profiles was one with a photo of a woman’s spread labia. Pardon MSN Messenger? You are suggesting I make friends with what now? Random labia? After the initial double take I flicked open the suggestions page to find a naked woman’s torso gracing another profile. WTF? Where was this coming from? Oh dear reader, you know the answer. Yes, the same guy who’d suggested sex had obviously moved onto surer pastures. So so icky. I felt like taking a long hot shower. Obviously I deleted him from Messenger and fb, but the fact he has a teen-aged daughter and coaches girls soccer – ugh!! It left me feeling soiled. 

I guess the upside is that once upon a time I might have had sex with him, just because he was male and showed an interest. This pushed a lot of buttons for me in terms of objectification of women. Maybe the girls he is talking to are older than their profile pictures suggest and closer to his almost 50 years than to his daughter’s age? Perhaps they are excellent conversationalists and he is interested in their minds? It’s not as if this guy flaunted his choices in front of me, they were randomly thrown up by Messenger, but still. It is clear we are not kindred spirits.

While I was deleting people from fb I had a good clear out of those people I don’t actually interact with. Highschool acquaintances and the like, who just sat there on my friends list, or in my news feed and added nothing of colour to the fabric of my life. My friends list on facebook was under 50 anyway but I culled it down to 34. I don’t miss them. I am clearly an anti-social bitch. I can live with that.

Luckily, there are still the good guys. I saw Barry the cab driver this week. Ah Barry, my love, if only you were single and 20 years younger. I’m also heading out next weekend to see my friend play with his band. In terms of comfort zones this will be pretty far out of mine. My friend will be on stage for the best part of the evening, which will leave me to my own devices. Still, he’s only recently joined this band and it may be my only opportunity to see him play before I relocate, which makes it worth it to me. I will be taking my camera for support though!

Huh. I guess I had more to say than I thought. A mixed bag. C’est la vie.

You’re the one that I want.

So, I was talking to my good friend Barry the taxi driver yesterday. I love Barry, he is a definite kindred spirit. He was teasing me about breaking his heart when I was running my plans to relocate past him. It made me think. Not about Barry literally, he’s happily ensconced in a relationship. Just about soul mates in general. I like to believe in soul mates and I definitely believe in kindred spirits. My view is a bit broader than others I’ve come across though. I don’t necessarily think there is only one person for everyone, only one true soul mate with whom you can be happy and content. I am lucky enough to have found kindred spirits in all sorts of places, who have made excellent travelling companions on life’s journey.

With some people, it is shared history that binds you. Shared experience that informs their understanding of you. With others it’s a shared outlook. With a select few it is an understanding that goes deeper, straight to instinct. And sometimes, if you are very lucky, you get all three. The trick, in my opinion, is to stay open to people and to life’s experiences. In the years since Daughter Number One died it’s not always been easy for me to do. Daughter Number One embraced life and other people so wholeheartedly. It would not honour her at all to become closed and bitter and cold. Plus it’s not who I am. So, despite the challenges I remain me, open of mind and heart, with open eyes as well.

Broken though I am, I am not looking for another to complete me. I don’t believe soul mates come along to complete us. I believe it’s up to us to complete ourselves. I don’t feel like I am a jigsaw puzzle with a heart-shaped gap waiting to be filled. I think it’s more like a song. One of you brings the lyrics, the other the melody, and you make beautiful music together. It follows for me that there may be many you can make music with, and many songs you can make. The lyrics, by themselves, have intrinsic value. As does the melody standing alone. If you find the right combination their beauty together is more than the sum of their parts. Sometimes the song sucks. The emotional equivalent of Rebecca Black’s Friday. But other times you know you’ve got yourself a number 1 hit. It’s all about the fit.

Thank you for the Music

Apropos of nothing, I just want to say how much I love music. It has such power, to empathise, to uplift, for escape. I’m sitting here today flicking through songs on YouTube. Some I know, others I’m just discovering. A couple had been upload by someone with the handle ‘Musicsavesmysoul’ and I saw that and thought ‘Yes, indeedy.’ This is the closet to religion I’m ever going to get.

It took me a long time to actually listen to music again. With pleasure. Nothing like choosing tracks for funerals to suck all the fun out of it. Now, it’s on all the time, different things as the mood strikes me. On the odd occasion when I have been sans enfants I’ve had the luxury of turning it up really loud and letting the bass beat through my body, drowning out my pulse. Music, like the written word, makes room for me to disappear for a little while. I loved being in the choir in highschool for the same reason- not just to miss classes. I remember seeking refuge in a televised Dire Straits concert, when they toured Australia in the ’80’s, while the fight between my mother and the stepfather raged around me. I don’t have many childhood memories but that one survived.

Music is a part of who I am although I lost it somewhere along the way. Not just after Daughter Number One died but before that. My love of music had been stifled by being someone’s mother, someone’s wife. Now, it’s helping me find my way again. Finding my way back to me. Music = Good. And even on those days when I’ve forgotten the words to life I’ll try to just hum along.

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