tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71811498879212535842024-02-21T15:08:23.361+10:00Two Tree HillLiving and Writing among the Historical Ghosts of the Rosewood ScrubBlithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.comBlogger463125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-23024555941468616082012-01-15T15:57:00.002+10:002012-01-15T16:00:53.631+10:00On my silence<span style="font-family: arial;">I started a blog and I started to write. I wrote the blog and I wrote a book. I wrote when the babies were sleeping and I wrote when the toddlers were playing. I wrote when the big kids started school and I wrote when the little kid started school. I wrote a book and rewrote a book. I would say that I got rejection slips but I never even got acknowledgement of submissions. I kept writing then I started working again. I put the book away and got busy with life. I worked a couple of days a week when the kids were in school then I got another job and worked most days of the week while the kids were in school. Then the biggest kid finished primary school and it was about time to stop treading water and remember that I had a mind and aspirations to a career.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I got a job of the kind that might lead to something, not just one to fill in time and pay bills (though those kind are good too). I found out that there was really only time for a few things -- work and being a mum and partner. So the writing petered out and the blog fell between the cracks and friends started to write to me to ask if I was okay. I am okay, more than okay. But I'm not blogging though I do still write. I have ideas for books and even occasionally write them down or read other books. I have a job that requires a lot of thought, energy, writing and reading but can delightfully be left behind when I walk to my car and drive home. When I am home, I'm busy spending time with my family and doing the things that keep the household somewhat messily and chaotically lurching forward.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I'm going to leave the blog here though as it is a chronicle of my writing and research over quite a few years. I hope that people might find it and even learn something about the Rosewood Scrub and German migration to Australia. I will occasionally pop in but please don't depend on me to update it. It's become an archive rather than a diary. If you are specifically interested in me - I do tweet at intervals at <a href="http://twitter.com/follysantidote">twitter.com/follysantidote</a> but it is necessarily succinct and possibly frivolous. And I can always be reached by email at follysantidote[at]gmail.com and via my personal email if you know it.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-88469956836737068392011-07-30T23:04:00.005+10:002011-07-30T23:15:29.273+10:00A wedding frippery<span style="font-family: arial;">I recently found out that the white wedding dress was an innovation of Queen Victoria. She didn't want to wear a heavy brocade gown and wore something lighter and more summery for her wedding. Somehow it become first the fashion and then the tradition to wear white. So the bride wearing white at a wedding is hardly a tenet of Western civilisation or indeed, even a very long tradition.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iSnGTuRMoMtKALtp-i6u7lEC-UuaWyzUsMB4ut02yCiAueKIQKE2moN277R3ExtzT0NVN6R7UEcXM9kBEeOvo3e_42a9VM20hoZ_1dOukcYYksWbO3vHPjAcuCr5RikwJesD9OUy330/s1600/queenvictorawedding.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iSnGTuRMoMtKALtp-i6u7lEC-UuaWyzUsMB4ut02yCiAueKIQKE2moN277R3ExtzT0NVN6R7UEcXM9kBEeOvo3e_42a9VM20hoZ_1dOukcYYksWbO3vHPjAcuCr5RikwJesD9OUy330/s320/queenvictorawedding.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635131542112834578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">From <a href="http://www.royalcollection.org.uk/eGallery/">The Royal Collection</a><br /></span></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">A new exhibit on the history of the white wedding dress is opening at the </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.bendigoartgallery.com.au/Page/Page.asp?Page_Id=261&h=0">Bendigo Art Gallery</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> and the ABC recently featured a short piece on the collection. Here's the </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-07-29/all-dressed-up-for-the-big-day/2816720">5 minute news story</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> on the exhibit. I especially enjoyed the Australian focus and the now-elderly bride who was so thrilled that her wedding dress made by her mother was included.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I also like the emphasis on the stories behind the dresses. For me, it is always about the stories.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-16262734727971119882011-06-20T13:17:00.003+10:002011-06-20T13:23:22.601+10:00Dancing gal<span style="font-family: arial;">For those of you who know Blithe Girl, you may enjoy watching this clip from YouTube. She's in <a href="http://brisbanegangshow.com.au/">The Brisbane Gang Show</a> this year. They did a flash mob to promote the show in Queen Street Mall which is the main shopping area in Brisbane. It was great fun to watch.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Click </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wSUwPqDSok">here</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> to watch the clip. And click </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://brisbanegangshow.scoutsqld.com.au/Tickets.html">here</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> to purchase tickets.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Who would have thought my daughter would ever be dancing in Queen Street Mall (or to be honest, able to dance at all?)</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-86493920235648130132011-06-14T20:25:00.004+10:002011-06-14T20:36:10.508+10:00Signs of the times<span style="font-family:arial;">I was in Sydney on the long weekend to catch up with family. It was a lovely visit. I very rarely see my brother and his family and it was great to spend some time with them. Now that we are "all grown up" (and I put this in quotations because I at least very intermittently feel adult) it's a different kind of relationship. Although there was a moment in the car with my Dad driving when he was cranky at us for not being ready on time then told us off for chattering too much. We caught each others' eye, started to giggle and nudge each other and I felt about 12 years old again.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />I love to search out good signage when I'm travelling and post here for your enjoyment my favourite of this trip. My father doesn't like crass mentions of bodily functions so let me just say that this was in a small public room and that people might have wondered about the clicking going on in the cubicle. Not only is the sign funny but it's also a neat little reminder of cultural difference.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7Y0a9TTTnGnfzeLpB2ht1q1KdX9dvfwABzjs9hmlJz_L1qj1bADbf6FDBSzKnUp4r_GNrvYld59V_2LYcaoupAWPnErV7VzvRZI0POyAlYngHrBm1GSSeAGsTIYHVTjKJNiCDd4dLUY/s1600/Signage.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7Y0a9TTTnGnfzeLpB2ht1q1KdX9dvfwABzjs9hmlJz_L1qj1bADbf6FDBSzKnUp4r_GNrvYld59V_2LYcaoupAWPnErV7VzvRZI0POyAlYngHrBm1GSSeAGsTIYHVTjKJNiCDd4dLUY/s320/Signage.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618021856975575634" border="0" /></a>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-82789235581812197422011-05-19T18:30:00.004+10:002011-05-19T18:39:03.766+10:00Writing slump<span style="font-family: arial;">I've lost my writing mojo.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Somewhere between Easter and now, I've lost the motivation to write. I've started a handful of posts and done the digital equivalent of crumpling them up in my hand and tossing them in the bin.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I'm just discouraged. Or maybe I'm just not meant to be writing right now.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">I'll keep trying. Thank you for your patience.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />If you're looking for something to read about Marburg, Queensland, please take a look at our Marburg </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://mymarburg.wordpress.com">news</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> site. There's stories there ranging from new coal exploration leases being applied for in the Marburg area to fund raising morning teas and the enduringly famous Saturday night Marburg dance. Ipswich mayor Paul Pisasale reputedly met his wife at one. What better endorsement can there be?</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-74383550334715952672011-04-26T15:19:00.007+10:002011-04-26T15:26:34.768+10:00Splat!<span style="font-family:arial;">Just coming out of the strange Easter/ANZAC Day/school holidays calendar mash-up. I've been meaning to do so many things but so far have managed only some rest, large amounts of chocolate consumption and some long-delayed excavation of my bedroom floor. But in response to a special request from my friend Ms AbsurdBeats, two photos of recent wildlife. First, tongue-in-cheek wildlife: our windscreen after a nighttime drive through the Lockyer Valley. And second, a classic Aussie welcome to Girraween National Park.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Happy Easter everyone.</span><br /><br /><br /><a style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS5jfMRFftmeEoE89owqMInTA8sRzH8glwqf7azPXCK1f283tTQikebPNdtJbPa7mgmGgliIGSuDTjp82thPxFs1zecFuN1sTvnyBY12Ms3HWkvBTE_-L6SyRyX-evckcy9tNBmOkF-bA/s1600/Windscreen.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS5jfMRFftmeEoE89owqMInTA8sRzH8glwqf7azPXCK1f283tTQikebPNdtJbPa7mgmGgliIGSuDTjp82thPxFs1zecFuN1sTvnyBY12Ms3HWkvBTE_-L6SyRyX-evckcy9tNBmOkF-bA/s320/Windscreen.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599758451315988482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6hn23reD0r90zr_-HYR38j6rmAms8hCPXY4awQJuy2lk3xCziUDbW8ZqQIauUjtCwd59i-A6ts9ALUeyICuuDg-azb9sNmAPcsLgPSKb6gjflgUQhN-nwsnwog-rMGQT7MA_jv3iWfHI/s1600/Roos.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6hn23reD0r90zr_-HYR38j6rmAms8hCPXY4awQJuy2lk3xCziUDbW8ZqQIauUjtCwd59i-A6ts9ALUeyICuuDg-azb9sNmAPcsLgPSKb6gjflgUQhN-nwsnwog-rMGQT7MA_jv3iWfHI/s400/Roos.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599758698752641762" border="0" /></a>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-76058585136169991902011-04-06T12:09:00.004+10:002011-04-06T12:18:04.011+10:00Photo glee<span style="font-family:arial;">What I really need to do is a list as long as my arm of chores and obligations and writing. What I actually am doing is playing with my new camera. Its arrival was a saga of parcels sent to the wrong place, enquiries unanswered and persistence. But it is here and I am very happy. Officially it is for work. I actually have a photo shoot job coming up. Unofficially I might just use it occasionally for myself and here for you...<br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguWGD0G5O7lJIeHINTVIQJMS9J9-NDuMj0CFf9TNAF-aE6rWopX0Bk_7a15sk3gtAjaHMzLFpWbLhhVj5UgD2xsqZqHb-dbHQgSKfWjoB285Iww5j9S_q-wLbij9aIw9wGsbotGut_OWQ/s1600/Dead+tree.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguWGD0G5O7lJIeHINTVIQJMS9J9-NDuMj0CFf9TNAF-aE6rWopX0Bk_7a15sk3gtAjaHMzLFpWbLhhVj5UgD2xsqZqHb-dbHQgSKfWjoB285Iww5j9S_q-wLbij9aIw9wGsbotGut_OWQ/s400/Dead+tree.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592288057582283362" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Autumn, Two Tree Hill</span><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZrss1b0KyhE4dKocerCirbxNlijy2KumFujHOuBXn63AJOZk_qC_dK9r1aMhk6rQzOoow7XolcT4l77SxFLmVShvb47TPoKBVXD7Y0wBxVymXD_K_gBBuP6uDyawShfL2Xexj7yJBDY/s1600/Vanilla+flower.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZrss1b0KyhE4dKocerCirbxNlijy2KumFujHOuBXn63AJOZk_qC_dK9r1aMhk6rQzOoow7XolcT4l77SxFLmVShvb47TPoKBVXD7Y0wBxVymXD_K_gBBuP6uDyawShfL2Xexj7yJBDY/s400/Vanilla+flower.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592288236858877234" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">New leaves on what we call the vanilla flower bush because the flowers smell just like the vanilla air freshener in cars.</span></span><br /></div>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-57739581524845776592011-03-30T15:00:00.004+10:002011-03-30T15:10:45.183+10:00Publishing links<span style="font-family: arial;">Things have been kinda up in the air around here lately. I'm busy jumping back and forth between various jobs and levels of sanity. If you're interested and have small feet (European size 37 or Australian 6B), here's a niche </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://almosonline.com">shoe website</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> that I've been working on for the last few weeks. Ships worldwide...</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />However, to keep you up on your toes regarding the book world, here are a couple of interesting links.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />The first is a blog </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://theselfpublishingreview.wordpress.com/">reviewing self-published books</a><span style="font-family: arial;">. You may not be interested in self-published books or the world of self-publishing but these are fascinating reviews full of very helpful information on what terrible mistakes to avoid in your writing. And they are often cringingly amusing (in that sort of "hope I've never done that, must pull out my writing and check" way).</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />The second link is a blog by the same person who writes the reviews above. This one is bluntly descriptive in its title, </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://howpublishingreallyworks.com/">How Publishing Really Works</a><span style="font-family: arial;">. Plenty of material for thought and agonising over.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-42878612665682431492011-03-26T11:24:00.002+10:002011-03-26T11:28:03.105+10:00March sunset<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUK9WoctFSNs0ICRJXts8o01ZDb2B9Hox8oo5VNvQ63B-oE9afZPks1WcLAQ3wwzJpd4OiZKq7p56AWWO-7N-QVnmR0J_6V0JcUbVLE1gKOvdBEdscRMAvc-oPizXWOxAFp17oRfC22ss/s1600/March+sunset.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUK9WoctFSNs0ICRJXts8o01ZDb2B9Hox8oo5VNvQ63B-oE9afZPks1WcLAQ3wwzJpd4OiZKq7p56AWWO-7N-QVnmR0J_6V0JcUbVLE1gKOvdBEdscRMAvc-oPizXWOxAFp17oRfC22ss/s400/March+sunset.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588193641835582994" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;">This is why I live here.<br /></div>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-27247111813308868692011-03-21T10:52:00.003+10:002011-03-21T10:57:35.910+10:00He wrote/she wrote<span style="font-family: arial;">Take a look at this interesting site: <a href="http://bookblog.net/gender/genie.php">http://bookblog.net/gender/genie.php</a></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />And read this article in the New York Times: <a href="http://tinyurl.com/3xvh6ad">http://tinyurl.com/3xvh6ad</a><br /><br />And the algorithm: <a href="http://tinyurl.com/4wep7fb">http://tinyurl.com/4wep7fb</a></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Then waste a significant amount of time testing this and tell me what you discover.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I discovered that all of my academic and professional writing in the last two years -- articles, reports, evaluations -- was judged to be written by a male. Even the more touchy-feely qualitative work was judged to be written by a male. Okay then. Perhaps academics are trained to write in a traditionally "male" way.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I then selected two blog entries. One was a more scholarly piece: <a href="http://twotreehill.blogspot.com/2010/07/learning-vernacular.html">Learning the Vernacular</a> that given the above, I expected would be judged as "male". The other was my entry on the "<a href="http://twotreehill.blogspot.com/2010/07/no-greater-love.html">episode of the snake in our ceiling</a>" which is a more descriptive piece. Both pieces were assessed as having been written by a male.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />When I entered a longish passage from my novel, the judgment was that it was written by a female.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I'm not quite sure what I can learn from this. Is my more successful, i.e., professionally validated writing, successful because it is written in a more "male" way? Is it a consequence of environmental factors that I write differently in different contexts? Is academia socialised to favour male behaviour? Where does my blogging fit into this? And how is it that I transition to a more "feminine" writing style in my novel? Would my writing efforts be more successful if I approached fiction in the same way as I approach report writing and blogging? Is there something in non-fiction that is more inherently male than in fiction?</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Many more questions than I have answers for at this time and perhaps ever. But plenty of food for thought.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-14327955877529499012011-03-13T15:44:00.006+10:002011-03-13T16:02:20.977+10:00A detour to Birdland<span style="font-family:arial;">In the midst of what seems like the world falling apart -- earthquakes and armies and riots -- my children ran into the bedroom this morning to tell me there was a Tawny Frogmouth in the tree outside the kitchen window. Lying in bed trying to drag myself to the surface, I had heard the rapid patter of feet down the hall and sundry whisperings. They had fetched trusty Simpson and Day to identify our visitor before proudly announcing it.<br /><br /></span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJMgJKoKlVobqfHsQ7Kv1TCgTwP2TIG0FdTK_5UH01TTxMCX3nxzwPAhr33nU1jDwuMx-Pa0y18mPObZkG6gpuncJXQw-nPVqTRIxlJJ_wUtA6bgjT3tT-WDihOAjCEhJjhiIJGoaAT5U/s1600/Tawny+frogmouth.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJMgJKoKlVobqfHsQ7Kv1TCgTwP2TIG0FdTK_5UH01TTxMCX3nxzwPAhr33nU1jDwuMx-Pa0y18mPObZkG6gpuncJXQw-nPVqTRIxlJJ_wUtA6bgjT3tT-WDihOAjCEhJjhiIJGoaAT5U/s320/Tawny+frogmouth.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583437295267902690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Mr/Ms Frogmouth has been there all day, in spite of children playing, lawnmower buzzing, bins being opened and closed and camera shutter clicking. I think he might be waiting for the cool of evening. Or is he simply waiting for an unguarded guinea pig?</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />On the subject of birds, last weekend when we were walking along Enoggera Creek down near the Northey Street Farm in Brisbane, the umbrella trees were in full bloom. Each tree was covered by lorikeets that would take off in vast screeching clouds as you walked by, only to noisily return within seconds. I like lorikeets. They are a living illustration of the fact that beauty is not everything.</span><br /><br /><br /><a style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZijxr_b-7pZBI5nD9d82AAwSU4LSVjzxYZObk4xgZmbtIrr7c9n-Lly_CBRxcdczE9OdrnD_J9dbS07sdQqvqzHIJcUXN7S61ud_bIiXRkVw9beOjDfpHEDzIHfkWXOlYldUUUtDSWHA/s1600/Lorikeets.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZijxr_b-7pZBI5nD9d82AAwSU4LSVjzxYZObk4xgZmbtIrr7c9n-Lly_CBRxcdczE9OdrnD_J9dbS07sdQqvqzHIJcUXN7S61ud_bIiXRkVw9beOjDfpHEDzIHfkWXOlYldUUUtDSWHA/s320/Lorikeets.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583439099626903522" border="0" /></a>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-86928963200363207432011-03-10T10:58:00.005+10:002011-03-10T11:12:47.025+10:00Inbox of shame<span style="font-family: arial;">Someone was telling me the other day about how difficult it is to raise children in the age of access to modern technology and media. It set me thinking about some of the things that are different for me today from when I was a child.<br /><br />One of them is my Inbox of Shame.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I'm sure that other people's inboxes are full of vital and fascinating emails. Mine is full of emails to myself. I used to write notes to myself on paper, with a pen, sometimes even in a notebook. Now, many of the things I need to remember exist only electronically. I'm so often out and about and internet access is so prevalent in the places that I work, that I send myself emails all the time. I think I rank as my own most frequent emailer (which is sad in a way).</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I'm not silly about it. I don't write letters to myself (well only occasionally) but the subject lines say it all:</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"a link"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"another link"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"More links"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"Useful article on health journalism"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"For work tweeting"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"Do I need to go to this workshop?"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"For Mr Blithe"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"Possibly interesting blog"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />"Have I read this yet?"</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />When more than say, ten emails in my inbox are from myself, I try to clear out the backlog and put everything where it belongs. A lot gets binned, but then I used to bin or recycle a lot of paper too. Perhaps I need to stop thinking of it as my Inbox of Shame and think of it as the inbox of a busy but environmentally virtuous person. Let's go with that.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-63089608075667757662011-02-28T12:47:00.002+10:002011-02-28T12:56:43.685+10:00Avoiding cliche<span style="font-family:arial;">How do you describe the last few days of summer while avoiding cliche? Every phrase that springs to mind: "dog days", "shimmering heat", "brassy sunshine", "warm fug of humidity", "burning footpaths", "breathless sunstained evenings", "car doors too hot to touch", "sudden gusty storms", "melting dregs of the day"...all sound trite and overused. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Has summer really been so dissected and described that there is nothing left to say? Or has my brain simply melted into a puddle of raddled cliches swirling around in what the sun and sweat have left?</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-62949004683350677192011-02-23T13:08:00.004+10:002011-02-23T13:40:39.866+10:00Super Vignettes<span style="font-family: arial;">OED, Vignette: /vi:'njet/ A short descriptive essay or character sketch.<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Me, Super vignette: Extra short descriptive sketch.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />*****</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />A palomino mare and foal: golden horses, white railings, green, green field. Gone by in a flash of gold, white, green.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Grey mare with brown foal and a discussion of genetics. And why Blithe Boy isn't adopted even though he is the only blonde Blithe.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Local pacing trainer ambling along the road in his buggy texting as he goes. Does the law against using your mobile phone while driving apply here?</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Unbearably muggy molten days turning to cool, dampness on the wings of a fantastical lightening and wind storm.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Learning some new techniques for </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://childrenspublishing.blogspot.com/2011/01/writers-plot-board-getting-organized.html">plotting novels</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> and trying to figure out when to try them out.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Realising that while I like doing business, there are few things more boring than business network meetings.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Finding a three word description of my business: I sell words.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Being told that I am middle-aged and feeling middle-aged from lack of sleep.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />A woman asking for scuffs (backless slide on shoes) at the shoe shop then telling me that she also doesn't like anything over the top of the foot. Me stopping myself from telling her that, by definition, that would no longer be a shoe, just something on which you were temporarily standing.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />My big sister running her first half marathon in 2 hours and 36 minutes. I couldn't even run for half an hour. My admiration is boundless.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />A huge brown bird dozing in the sunshine on a fencepost being harassed by a pair of lapwings until it finally flaps lazily across the dam. Downthrust from its wings ruffling the brown surface of the water. Walking stiffly to the side of the dam to drink with the lapwings still circling and insanely squawking.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-89148839939804644722011-02-12T10:24:00.001+10:002011-02-12T10:30:14.040+10:00Strange paths<span style="font-family: arial;">It's been an odd week or so. The irony is that when I am busy getting things done in real life, my blogging suffers. I started blogging almost four years ago now as a way to get myself writing and to exercise my writing muscles. Now, much of my everyday life consists of writing and reading and I don't need the exercise so much. And I just often don't have the time or energy to write something interesting and significant. If you're interested in brief snippets of my life, you can follow my <a href="http://twitter.com/follysantidote">tweets</a>. Sometimes it is easier to come up with 140 characters than a fully fledged post.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />The second irony is that in being busy, I've started writing fiction again in odd moments. I've picked up a second part-time job working in a friend's shoe store. In between pricing shoes and helping people select shoes, I often have quiet moments and the motivation to write. I think my family are a bit horrified that I'm heading down the path of career suicide or are at the very least over-qualified. I point out that it's not a lifetime career choice but a part-time job that pays a few bills and isn't too stressful. I'm working two half days, between taking the kids to school and picking them up. It's a local shop in the next small town. I see lots of people I know, meet many others and find the people watching fascinating. I'm wondering if I could get away with writing a book based on the characters I meet in the mode of D.E. Stevenson's <a href="http://www.persephonebooks.co.uk/pages/titles/index.asp?id=112">Miss Buncle</a>.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">It's also a delight to be out of the university and community consultancy mindset. No-one is talking about key learnings, policy recommendations, transparency, accountability, commitment to social equity, strategic support and all the jargon of bureaucracies everywhere. Not that I don't enjoy that but I can step away from it and see it for the self-contained (though better-paid) world that it is.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I'm also working on helping the shop get into online shopping. It's a slow process starting with needing to get a new computer. I discovered that the computer in the shop was bought second hand in 1998 from the local high school! I personally would never buy a computer that has ever been anywhere near a high school. It's like buying a car from a driving instructor -- the guts have been well and truly flogged out of it (not to mention the germs). Oddly enough, this dinosaur is connected to broadband. It's like the Mississippi River funnelled through a mouse-powered turbine that chokes regularly. Once the hardware problem has been solved, I suspect I've have less spare time for writing but I'll be using again some of my "core competencies" to "strategically position" the shoe store online.<br /><br />See. I can still do it.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-31813390034745511072011-02-01T16:28:00.005+10:002011-02-02T07:13:06.373+10:00Cool but frightening<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Take a look at this </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.goes.noaa.gov/sohemi/sohemiloops/shirgmscol.html">animated image of Cyclone Yasi</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> bearing down on North Queensland. It is expected to cross the coast around 1am on Thursday. Residents are currently being asked to evacuate low-lying areas and to drive south as far as possible, but at least as far as Mackay. Enforced evacuations will kick in later today. Two Cairns hospitals are being evacuated to Brisbane.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Cairns is 1700km from Brisbane, Mackay is 1000km. So people driving themselves away from the coast need to be at least a day's drive south.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />And for those congenital sightsee-ers, this message from the Deputy Police Commissioner who according to the </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2011/02/01/3127118.htm">ABC</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> says that "anyone foolish enough to venture out during the height of the cyclone will be left to fend for themselves."<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">"At about 8:00am tomorrow, on current predictions, it will become dangerous to be driving about or walking about or doing anything outside due to the force of the winds," he said. "If people purposely go out and get into strife and create a high risk, sending emergency services workers out into that environment is not practical or sensible."</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />It's a tough year to be in Queensland.</span><br /></span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-79528359251169768882011-02-01T06:00:00.001+10:002011-02-01T06:00:01.621+10:00Onward and upward<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">I'm rereading Don Watson's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Death-Sentence-Decay-Public-Language/dp/1740512065"><span style="font-style: italic;">Death Sentence: The Decay of Public Language</span></a>. It is not just a rant, it's an inspirational rant. Don't read it if you want to feel comfortable in your management-speak and your everyday sloppiness of expression. Do read it if you want to feel challenged to express ideas simply, clearly and powerfully.<br /><br />In his own words:<br /></span><blockquote style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">Words </span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">can</span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"> be like notes, like expressions of the soul. They can make our hair stand up, they can lift our understanding to a higher plane, make us see things differently. They can inspire love and hope. You can see it happen before your eyes. Words can create a magic halo. But they have to have some thought or sentiment attached; and, like notes, be skillfully arranged.</span></blockquote><span style="font-size:100%;">Go, arrange words, make some music.<br /></span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-28667173895768333622011-01-31T10:22:00.003+10:002011-01-31T10:28:09.002+10:00Clearing out the baggage<span style="font-family: arial;">January is one of my least favourite months. I am often still tired from the year before and that doesn't magically disappear on New Year's Eve. I sometimes wish it would burn up in the brilliant light of those fireworks. That would be a proper end to a year. (Note to self: perhaps I should invent a new religion this year or at least a few rituals).<br /><br />I often don't know what the new year holds for me and that is stressful in itself for someone who likes to be in control of things or at least know where things (myself included are going). January is also a curious blend of the end of the long school holidays then the sudden transition to school routine for the kids and myself. All of a sudden we're back to timetables, sports, music, Scouts and all the paraphernalia of everyday life. Throw in a flood and I feel totally discombobulated.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />This year I am trying to become calmer and more rational in my dealings with life. So on this last day of January I am going to have a whinge about something and then let it go, hopefully never to sully me again.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Before setting off on our epic family drive to Sydney and back after Christmas, I decided to test-drive our local library's digital loan system. I love books and I enjoy techie things so I thought it was great that our local library was offering digital loans. Hours and hours of aggravation later I was just pissed off. So much so that I wrote a furious email to the library which I fortunately diverted to my draft file while I sat on my anger a while. My dissertation advisor gave me the good advice not to send off letters in anger and it's saved me a few times. Not that the crankiness was unjustified but I probably didn't need to burden some overworked and underpaid librarian with my rant. Instead I am going to burden you then let it go…</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />This is what I wrote at the time:</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /></span><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">Dear XyZ,<br /><br />I recently tried to borrow a digital book and while able to borrow it, was completely unable to play it. I have a Mac and downloaded the recommended version of OverDrive. However, the Mac version of OverDrive won't play the more updated versions of the books. On the OverDrive site the version of the console for Windows is 3.2 while for the Mac it is 1.1. I received the message "This version of OverDrive does not play WMA Audio Books." Your site recommended that I use Flip4Mac but it does not support "content that is protected with Windows Media digital rights management (DRM)" which this content is.<br /><br />I realise that the library site said that the book was not formatted for Mac but I need to use my Mac to transfer the file to my iPod. The recommendation to simply use iTunes doesn't work as to use iTunes I have to use my Mac. This is a ridiculous situation that a Mac user cannot use a product that is formatted for an Apple product unless they use a PC with Windows software. It is also unhelpful that your site suggests solutions that do not work. Why not simply say at the portal that "only PC users are welcome here"?<br /><br />It is also a ridiculous situation that once I have "borrowed" a digital book, no other user can borrow it until I "return" it. Why are you using a system based on old models of libraries when you have digital editions that can be borrowed by as many users as want to at a time? Now I have five books that I have removed from circulation that I can't access or listen to and no-one else can either until my three week loan period expires. This seems a very poor implementation of technology whether it is by your choice or by software and book publishers stuck in twentieth century notions of readership and book publication.<br /><br />I have completely wasted several hours of my time and will in future only borrow "real" books or purchase audio books from iTunes directly. At least I will be sure that I will be able to play them. Perhaps this was not an issue in the past but as more and more people use iPads, iPods and similar Apple products, more and more of your patrons will be alienated. And perhaps you will draw the conclusion that people aren't interested in digital books when in reality they simply aren't interested in obtaining them from sources such as the library. And that will be your and our loss, because your library is a wonderful asset to the community and should continue being so in the future, whatever direction technology takes books.<br /><br />Yours sincerely,<br /><br />An irate library client</span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Letting go NOW...</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-52179466187314853622011-01-18T13:58:00.007+10:002011-01-18T14:10:15.236+10:00Flooded with images<span style="font-family:arial;">I am often the first person to whip out a camera and take a picture but I have been strangely unwilling this week. This flood has been widely documented and the flood of imagery has been overwhelming. It's hard to take a picture that shows the magnitude of what happened. And it feels wrong to take pictures of others' misery. So I have been constrained by my own misgivings. Here though are a few images of what the water meant to us.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7hC5Pr8uUfnZ23lKKc2gSDuc4N0jXqiGvAqNyPbG7hP7zkHdhWD3Ts07WSMazlNZ6jc1e6Xdp76iyaFjgpYHdI_rBsOKuTDt-9QnrYK1jSRxCaLSOZ62TKma_CvLPoXqkR4wURfFIQg/s1600/Dam+Jan+2011.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7hC5Pr8uUfnZ23lKKc2gSDuc4N0jXqiGvAqNyPbG7hP7zkHdhWD3Ts07WSMazlNZ6jc1e6Xdp76iyaFjgpYHdI_rBsOKuTDt-9QnrYK1jSRxCaLSOZ62TKma_CvLPoXqkR4wURfFIQg/s320/Dam+Jan+2011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563371231542010450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The dam going over the top of the wall.</span><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9SP0nvb2hGPHpTRYZe8ErN9cKS9KVOT83ygBMmROK9GPrc6T6DKllh8zPPFG8Xt61g-EpmrizpO8jJhW9HkkXYsRC-tOzrHsS8rrtHD_Yq2t33HNg7Ya17tq7ENrbXFIA_QGzQJ4tZY/s1600/Valley+flood.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9SP0nvb2hGPHpTRYZe8ErN9cKS9KVOT83ygBMmROK9GPrc6T6DKllh8zPPFG8Xt61g-EpmrizpO8jJhW9HkkXYsRC-tOzrHsS8rrtHD_Yq2t33HNg7Ya17tq7ENrbXFIA_QGzQJ4tZY/s400/Valley+flood.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563373006830676498" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Marburg Valley with the detention basin full and over the spillway.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RoKMME9I_eBt6_be-JXq6tF03f4xXvGwKkGrkyejJygOouRcwGz5ZrQrU3p4grYbJ7Ye1OOVlWB0KEQJqL7aJpFe5hjOTZMxPdZFVCJOsJW_DmXpT2seYHxVO_VrvDrQaCNvJcCIMqE/s1600/Road+Jan+2011.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RoKMME9I_eBt6_be-JXq6tF03f4xXvGwKkGrkyejJygOouRcwGz5ZrQrU3p4grYbJ7Ye1OOVlWB0KEQJqL7aJpFe5hjOTZMxPdZFVCJOsJW_DmXpT2seYHxVO_VrvDrQaCNvJcCIMqE/s200/Road+Jan+2011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563371737618213890" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:85%;">The top part of our road after the rain (the bottom of it was still under water).<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEd4plYWjw65ve_eFeuf-Mr9mhvcy4MP6qSYn0gPZ_ryUSzkm_992rTiHGYc0YeTjXMlf4bLbbxf4nWRbdyWlvuNEj8FZVmwFWrW2vqp0BRV-5FlSn_XzkILlLCxvhJ72eEoj5XjGMbg/s1600/Road+anatomy.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEd4plYWjw65ve_eFeuf-Mr9mhvcy4MP6qSYn0gPZ_ryUSzkm_992rTiHGYc0YeTjXMlf4bLbbxf4nWRbdyWlvuNEj8FZVmwFWrW2vqp0BRV-5FlSn_XzkILlLCxvhJ72eEoj5XjGMbg/s200/Road+anatomy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563371624696016850" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >Anatomy of a road.<br /></span></div>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-80731218034535393792011-01-14T06:54:00.001+10:002011-01-14T06:54:00.693+10:00Four odd things<span style="font-family: arial;">1. In the middle of the rainstorm, our phone rang and it was a telemarketer. Neither flood nor disaster…</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />2. ABC had a prominent notice on one of their television news bulletins asking people to "converse" water.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />3. Our only piece of mail this week was a Telstra bill. See #1 above.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />4. I received an email from the mobile library telling me that I had overdue books. The library is shut and I can't imagine that any mobile library is going to be out on the streets for some time.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Life goes on…</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-56838252416191524332011-01-13T16:06:00.001+10:002011-01-13T16:07:34.975+10:00Ordinary<span style="font-family: arial;">Today was a completely normal summer holiday day. I did five loads of laundry and pegged them in succession on the line. I weeded the garden and planted some cuttings I brought back from the holidays. The tomatoes, basil and chives are thriving and I laid out another tranche of lettuce. Mr Blithe mowed. The children played with toys and pets and squabbled intermittently. We shared cafe lattes and gingerbread after lunch. We made phone calls, checked email, browsed the web, listened to music and watched television.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Nothing in particular stood out other than that it is a lovely day. The sky is blue and powder puffed with clouds. A cool breeze blows and military helicopters pass low overhead. The heavy thunk of the rotors and the grass bending in their passing is the only sour note. I wonder if they look down and see us here on our hilltop going about our very ordinary, everyday activities? Does it comfort them or bother them? Or do they notice nothing in their focus on their grim mission?</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />For these helicopters are combing the countryside looking for bodies -- preferably survivors but at this stage, they're girded to find victims. Upstream heading west into the Lockyer Valley and the Darling Downs, communities are devastated by the wall of water that came down the creeks and rivers. Downstream heading east into Brisbane, the city watches the river rising and falling with the tide and inflows from further west. Ipswich tries to clean up its CBD while Brisbane waits for a final peak before starting the effort.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />We had heavy rain and 36 hours without electricity. Our road washed out. The water found a few new pathways into our house. The valley flooded and roads were cut. But we are lucky.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />I thought today that in some ways our experience has been similar to those surviving the 1893 deluge. Perched high on the hill, unable to go anywhere, we simply went on with our lives. We played cards, read, peered down the valley, cooked and ate by candlelight and went to bed early. In many ways we are more fortunate than those more dependent on an urban infrastructure. We have our own water and sewage. We have a generator to run the essentials. I'm used to the fact that a supermarket isn't just around the corner and keep the store cupboard full. At some point we'll have to descend from our aerie and return to the realities of a working life.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />But for now, ordinary is good.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-85958540851218113412011-01-09T19:30:00.004+10:002011-01-09T19:40:20.737+10:00Resolutely entering the new year<span style="font-family:arial;">I always intend to make New Year's resolutions but somehow or rather time slips by me and I've missed that wonderful opportunity to think about the year gone and the year to come. My thoughts about new year usually occur in the quiet of mid-January. It's not that January is much calmer than other times of the year. The kids are still on holiday. I'm still trying to finish up all the things I promised to get done by Christmas and I'm trying to come up with new projects/funding/income for another year. But there is a kind of lull when I try (again) vainly (again) to organise myself, tidy the house and think of the future.<br /><br />2011 is a significant year for me. A little over five years ago, I was wondering about whether to have another child. I remember saying to Mr Blithe "But if we have another child, they won't be starting school until 2011!" It seemed so far away. I worried about the effect on my career and life and yet took the plunge (so to speak). 2011 seems to have raced up on me and my baby is starting school in a fortnight. I still don't know what 2011 holds for me and I still don't know what I am going to do when I grow up but here are a few goals:</span><br /><br /><ul><li><span style="font-family:arial;">To clean up the "filing system" on my bedroom floor.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:arial;">To find some kind of stable work (that is, steady work rather than working with horses!)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:arial;">To improve my balance between work for money, work for interest and family life.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:arial;">To write more.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:arial;">To continue my efforts to be kinder to people including myself and to be more patient.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:arial;">To be braver.</span></li></ul> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br />As part of my efforts to be braver, here is me hanging from a bar over a 2 storey drop at the free fall slide at <a href="http://www.questacon.edu.au/">Questacon</a> in Canberra. I piked twice but managed it on the third go after grilling the poor attendant about potential risks, hazards, approximate height of the drop, average injury rates etc…it's a wonder he didn't just push me off the edge. And yes, the boiler suit is required and is not my normal attire.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_sNlOQMGUMhoK5XqBbeRwvRq4i8fjLm4ZH7qhMqhyphenhyphen1vSGLKGDRN35bcoruR6zZUT3WBnr9PkTlVIz9CBnS0SuGx7PqY5bytdg1U6oJKQcrqk0QgxY6fwH1JTJUDftqh1CLZv46w7Rk8/s1600/Freefall.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_sNlOQMGUMhoK5XqBbeRwvRq4i8fjLm4ZH7qhMqhyphenhyphen1vSGLKGDRN35bcoruR6zZUT3WBnr9PkTlVIz9CBnS0SuGx7PqY5bytdg1U6oJKQcrqk0QgxY6fwH1JTJUDftqh1CLZv46w7Rk8/s200/Freefall.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560116956936962754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Happy New Year everyone. May your year be full of challenges bravely met and goals reached.</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-50977772642155779372010-12-31T09:17:00.000+10:002010-12-31T09:17:00.470+10:00Notes to self<span style="font-family:arial;">When I am going about my everyday life, I often scribble thoughts and ideas down. I have tried to be grown-up and carry a notebook in which to do so. As with many attempts at maturity I have failed. Instead I jot things on whatever scrap of paper comes to hand.<br /><br />My personal favourite is the backs of old envelopes so that I feel vaguely environmentally responsible. Sometimes it is napkins and sometimes the tiniest scraps of paper that I find later and try to puzzle out what I was trying to say.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Sometimes you have to do it surreptitiously like when you hear an especially juicy piece of dialogue in a doctor's waiting room. You don't want people to realise that you are writing down what they say. When I am working, I turn on my digital recorder and look vaguely professional. At other times, I am sure that I look furtive.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Cleaning out my backpack in a half-hearted attempt to get ready for the new year, I found a scrap of paper with a phrase I found fascinating at the time. It still resonates:</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />"We expect to be interested..."</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />I'm fairly sure that it is from a meeting with a public servant. I'm trying to work out how to use it in my writing without sounding too pompous. Or maybe I could insert a pompous character into a story. The power of the author...</span>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-13839414034044443442010-12-25T06:00:00.000+10:002010-12-25T06:00:03.493+10:00One year apart<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLL0T1gmkUJVK64W26x87kmJ7AziXv_0yKMGd16PvD9VgcjG_9aild1nHEkw3BMDlwJfwGsTXLM5b1Qzavbcei14BEpqJg973qaAUjWP6TKtrTF2f8aP5RD4YN1W9QmwV8QxnsH-uLcY0/s1600/December+rainbow.JPG"><br /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicLPMwhdeVOrmJxbvrG869hmRNmVxxM0JVGgHHYjAYiHBmZu6wJuhKmmL9wIDKylDeR6WvFukuyH1PP3Uz3LHh2T0f1eJ6XU-Gq1-7C7oT4BNIPTvC4iwCnhlop3MKaDWWIzqkxsYTKM/s1600/Minnesota+snow.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicLPMwhdeVOrmJxbvrG869hmRNmVxxM0JVGgHHYjAYiHBmZu6wJuhKmmL9wIDKylDeR6WvFukuyH1PP3Uz3LHh2T0f1eJ6XU-Gq1-7C7oT4BNIPTvC4iwCnhlop3MKaDWWIzqkxsYTKM/s320/Minnesota+snow.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554019860978711810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">View out the window December 25th, 2009 in Minnesota, USA.<br /><br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLL0T1gmkUJVK64W26x87kmJ7AziXv_0yKMGd16PvD9VgcjG_9aild1nHEkw3BMDlwJfwGsTXLM5b1Qzavbcei14BEpqJg973qaAUjWP6TKtrTF2f8aP5RD4YN1W9QmwV8QxnsH-uLcY0/s1600/December+rainbow.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLL0T1gmkUJVK64W26x87kmJ7AziXv_0yKMGd16PvD9VgcjG_9aild1nHEkw3BMDlwJfwGsTXLM5b1Qzavbcei14BEpqJg973qaAUjWP6TKtrTF2f8aP5RD4YN1W9QmwV8QxnsH-uLcY0/s320/December+rainbow.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554020215925289506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">View out our front door after another December storm, Marburg, Queensland, 2010.</span><br /></div>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7181149887921253584.post-44347556521589067512010-12-23T06:00:00.000+10:002010-12-23T06:00:00.805+10:00Merry Christmas to all<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31hdWE1ofQWiSH5pGjX_brZvPHExdUiNvYtEWJrNfuYgROrIThIuRvP29X1NyUYuhbqlugTTuAJee0xOSiMqovo21ubq9cc0tmWye_-v9iwJ3LxQS2piv2NEUiBlSVrOC2aFV3V62p_w/s1600/Wreath.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31hdWE1ofQWiSH5pGjX_brZvPHExdUiNvYtEWJrNfuYgROrIThIuRvP29X1NyUYuhbqlugTTuAJee0xOSiMqovo21ubq9cc0tmWye_-v9iwJ3LxQS2piv2NEUiBlSVrOC2aFV3V62p_w/s400/Wreath.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552963807882515426" border="0" /></a>Blithehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07920133262015868474noreply@blogger.com0