Tuesday, 14 December 2021

Fiz is homeward bound


We are homeward bound and I feel a settling ... the gentle anticipation of being in my own place—the comfort of the familiar.
Don't get me wrong, I love trips away ... they stimulate my creativity, invigorate, and refresh. I often come back with clearer ideas about things that have been hovering in the background of my mind.

Sunday, 28 November 2021

I wouldn't have it any other way

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.
Therefore, this is going to be a bit of a rave about them and, if you’re not into hearing about other people’s grandchildren, stop reading now and wait for our next blog. 

Monday, 8 November 2021

Farmhand


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. 
 
Fortunately, Mapleton Pub—with its breath-taking views over the hinterland and out to the ocean—is just a few minutes away, and we are soon sipping on a ginger beer (on tap) and tucking into their beef pie. After lunch, there’s just a little more work arranging the logs in
the vege patch, and then I head off home for a power nap. 

Times like this are one of the perks of retirement! 

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

We began BOLDmag by writing about hair (black and white, stuck in the grey) so here's a new hairy tale.
Because our hair stories are intertwined, we are taking it in turns to share the why, how, and verdict.

Monday, 18 October 2021

restart

I’m back! So much has happened but, really, not a lot has changed.

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.

Thursday, 14 October 2021

We are back!


A lot has changed since last we blogged. I am now officially old (70), retired, and living in a beach house with my bloke—yes, the decent bloke I met online. And there is COVID. And a new grandson. And, and … so much to tell! 

I’m rather chuffed that I have made it to 70 and I want to make the most of the time I have left. I intend to have fun, interesting and fulfilling times BUT this will be despite the wonky knee, the arthritis, and the necessity of an afternoon power nap! 

Restarting blogging sounds relatively effortless: write a blog and post it like we used to do. No, no, no! First, we had to update our site and, of course, there had been updates to the blogging platform in our 3-year absence. I had completely forgotten the techno bits (widgets and gadget codes and that sort of thing). Fortunately, Naz is far more switched on in this area. 

But when you start making changes, you realise just how many need to be made. So we updated our About us and then realised that our photos were seriously outdated. We tried snapping photos of us together but one of us always looked a bit odd (read far too old). I want to look nice old not grotesque old. We hatched a plan to visit our former photographer, my daughter-in-law Jodi. Thanks Jodi for the photo shoot—we're blogging about our fun day posing!

And then we wanted to make sure you can easily subscribe to our blogs and that took time, especially as we tended to get side-tracked updating each other about what was happening in our lives, sharing random theories, and indulging in cake with our coffee. 

Plus we deliberated about what to write about and wondered whether we should podcast. We decided that we would begin by writing about what crops up in our lives. You know, things like finding a good hairdresser, our purpose in life, COVID etiquette, sex.  

Mmmm not sure if I’m bold enough to write about sex, but there I was reading about sexologist and author Chantelle Otten and I came to these words: ‘Her client case studies include stories of sexual pain and self-esteem, erectile dysfunction, and how to have sex in your 60s’. What!? You mean I happily had sex last decade not knowing there was a special way for people in their 60s to do it. Astonishing. Though now that I’m 70 … 

Being 70 does seem different from that betwixt and between stage of life in my 60s. In some ways it is a relief to be officially old. Life can still be full but perhaps not as crowded. Closing my editing business was hard but right: hard because it was a letting go, right because it has freed up my time. Of course, it's not all lolling around reading books. Curved balls continue to lob my way unexpectedly, but I feel I’m starting to find a new rhythm—and I like it. I’m looking forward to sharing about navigating these unchartered waters.

Fiz 

Look out for Naz's post in a couple of days!