BOLDmag
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Wednesday, 20 April 2022
pretty good
Monday, 11 April 2022
up down up
Have you ever felt you’ve lost your purpose and are barely finding reason to be and do? Your motivation has faded and your desire to create has vanished. Your tank is empty and even if you find an inkling of life force your mind can’t put a plan together. It can’t decipher nor picture the next move. You wander aimlessly throughout each day and feel relieved when it’s over. Everything feels so dam hard. You put on a brave face, only offering your nearest and dearest a glimpse of your true feelings.
Monday, 28 March 2022
Fiz: inspired to 'be'
I was inspired by my friend Jean, taking the plunge to marry at 82 and I’m immensely glad I flew over to London for her wedding in December 2016 (see my earlier blog). I hesitated due to the expense (well, just a little) but what a precious time I had, and it seems even more precious now that she has died. I watched her memorial service online and I was inspired all over again.
You see, Jean’s legacy was love. This was made abundantly clear at her memorial service. Jean had enriched the lives of her children, grandchildren, and friends She made you feel valued and cared for, she listened, she was discerning about what you needed (a glass of sherry or an expenses-paid holiday), her ‘darling, how good to see you’ was magic.
I am so fortunate to have had her in my life. And I want to be more like her.
However, it’s not always easy, juggling all the ‘wants’ and ‘shoulds’. It’s a fulltime job as any retiree will tell you! The art of adjusting to age-related limitations (wonky joints, lapsed IT knowledge, need for afternoon power naps, sagging, etc.) is something I’m working on. There is the sorting, the rearranging of priorities, the culling—not only of stuff but also of expectations.
I don’t want to slip into some doddery caricature of myself. I want that sweet spot—caring for me and caring for others—while having fun, interesting, and fulfilling experiences!
Given that life is messy, it’s not all sunshine but so far I’m doing ok at being older. Of course, I’d do even better if clothes shops installed rose-tinted mirrors.
Got any tips for the good old life?
Saturday, 15 January 2022
Fiz puzzling over jigsaw
Wednesday, 5 January 2022
between the sheets on sunday
We were heading for Christmas and I felt worn out; weary from work and the overwhelming planning and shopping that always consumes me on the lead up to the big day. So, while I may have read a few pages each night, nothing was sinking in. After skimming a couple of pages but believing I had been reading, I would reluctantly return the bookmark to its new place, close my blurry tired eyes and surrender to my lunar love
Tuesday, 14 December 2021
Fiz is homeward bound
Sunday, 28 November 2021
I wouldn't have it any other way
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Granddaughters in Europe |
It’s all go with new things to explore and touch, touch again, and then touch some more. What happens if I drop it? Will it bend? What does it taste like? Can I make it a game? Throw it? Hey, does it bounce? There is so much to learn and experience. As a grandparent, my trick to survive is to be present and alert, to stay calm and to think ahead—and, all at once. Most importantly, I must keep up. I need to eat well (this is easy), get lots of sleep and, yep, not skimp on regular exercise (this is hard). It all contributes to my safety, endurance, and enjoyment when grandparent duty calls. It is one hell of a job and I love it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thursday, 18 November 2021
Grandies
Wow, my 17-year-old grandson graduated from high school on Wednesday. And my 8-month-old grandson has just learnt to crawl. I only have two grandchildren—so far. My daughter’s teenager and my son’s baby. Both have carved out a place in my heart.
Monday, 8 November 2021
Farmhand
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enjoying a ginger beer |
There I am lobbing into the Mapleton Pub in my raggedy t-shirt, old jeans and Blundstones. And it feels good. It’s good because I have been helping my daughter with making vegetable beds: selecting logs for edging from the pile on the flat paddock, loading them into her Prado, and bringing them up the hill to her house yard. There’s been a bit of mattock work too and it’s time for me to stop the hard yakka before my back starts to complain. Besides I’m hungry and a hot pub lunch sounds just the ticket.
the vege patch, and then I head off home for a power nap.
Monday, 1 November 2021
collide
Just as easy as picking up my laptop! I lean and reach over my desk—maybe a little too far, an opposing twist, perhaps off balance but only slightly, and boom. The attacking pain shoots through my lower back into my stomach and up into the space between my shoulder blades—excruciating and unexpected. I let out a muffled scream and hold my breath, frozen with fear. What just happened? What is happening … still?
Tentatively I begin to unwind. The hurt begins to subside. But,
I am terrified that the smallest movement could unleash the agony again—the sharp
jabbing stings and unwanted rhythm of throbbing pain. Ironically the nuisance
desk, the offender, that only a moment ago was cursed and blamed, now offers respite,
solid and available to lean on, but still I am frozen to the spot.
For several long minutes with the slightest and cautious movement, I continue to unravel. The pain has reduced to a dull ache but radiates brutally from my waist to my thighs. What have I done?
Tuesday, 26 October 2021
mischief
Monday, 18 October 2021
restart
Over three years ago I was offered a role as sales
consultant in an over 50s Resort in Bongaree (a sleepy waterside suburb on
Bribie Island). This opportunity, bolstered with the need to replenish my
diminishing funds, forced a decision to return Bribie—to my enduring duplex on
the canal. I bought this quaint little property in 2001 and refer to it fondly
as my happy place. It was new, now it is old. It has been dull then transformed to bold,
bright and colourful. It has felt joy as well as sadness. It has always been there for me—stable and
secure—at times an outward expression of me and where I was in my life. A place I keep returning to.
So back I went for a short time—back to my happy place.
I took only the barest essentials as my intention was always to return to the
Sunshine Coast, resume my coaster lifestyle and play with my friends. Any of my
belongings that were not classified as necessities were packed and stored in a
shipping container somewhere on the Sunshine Coast. I didn’t know where and, oddly,
I didn’t care.
Work was now my priority. It was for a finite time. I put
everything into it—my heart and soul. I loved my new job and the sleepy village
vibe of Bongaree. Many people crossed my path—a multitude of characters. Some I
connected with personally—a number will remain lifelong friends. My job was extremely fulfilling and I felt
honoured for the opportunity to help—to assist even in a small way—ageing
singles and couples faced with major life-changing events and the resulting
decisions that churned around them.
Largely these choices were met with eagerness and excitement but
sometimes with regret, loss and deep sadness. I came to recognise that, at some
point in my life, I too would be called on to make such decisions but not yet …
phew! I can watch and learn and reflect for now.
During my time on Bribie I met a man. Well I met lots but this one was special.