i have a dream

Saw Mamma Mia today. The film, not the musical. Laughed, cried, ate too much popcorn, marvelled at how incredibly beautiful Meryl Streep still is, decided that some day I really must visit the Greek Islands - no, wait, did I say visit? I meant live on for the rest of my days. Because I'm fairly sure I can unequivocally state that people who have an all-year-round natural tan are INTENSELY HAPPY. ALL THE TIME.

I also remembered (and loved) every single Abba song and vowed to retrieve my Abba Gold CD from the back of the cupboard forthwith. Who knew Benny and Bjorn could write such beautiful songs, while still looking sexy-as in white satin tunics and flares. Thankyou for the music, gentlemen.

bloom and grow

The camellia trees in my garden are older than me. They have solid, no-nonsense trunks that were nurtured in their early, twig-like days by a solid, no-nonsense woman named Josephine who owned this house long before I was born, and whom I never met but whose blood circulates in three of the people I love most in this world.

When I was pregnant with Elsa, I watched the camellia buds appear and grow larger as I did, and when I brought our tiny baby girl home their beautiful pink blooms covered the branches and the lawn beneath them. It was like nature saying "It's a girl!''.

Now that tiny baby has turned six, and if you were to ask her I'm sure she'd tell you there is no greater age to be. The camellias are blooming and falling, as they do, and although it is winter there is still tremendous warmth to be had if you know where to look for it. And on the branches of our peach tree, hope of an abundant spring.

who is this harriet?

Excellent question. I like to think of Harriet as someone who watches over me, an employee of the universe if you will. I credit her for leading me into the arms of the man I love, for taking us both into a rundown old house in the early months of 1997 and showing us (okay, maybe just me) the love and life that dwelt in its tobacco-stained walls and could resurface with a bit of hard work and several thousands of dollars. I thank her every day for bringing me home.
Sometimes it seems Harriet has deserted me in my hour of need. When I'm beating myself up and shutting out everyone around me, it feels like Harriet has run for the hills, and I am in no place to blame her. But then, without fail, she comes back to me and it is clear she was just checking in with the boss, getting new instructions from Universe Pty Ltd on how to deal with her charge.
Today I read dooce and thought for the hundred-and-ninety-ninth time how much I'd like to be Heather B. Armstrong's best friend, then thought how unlikely that is because 1. She lives in Utah. 2. She is the world's most popular blogger. and 3. She recently had more than 40,000 comments posted for one entry. I almost wet myself when I get just one. But still I am bordering on obsessive about Heather, and I recently sent her an email because I was sure we could have a meaningful connection beyond me slavishly reading her blog and idolising her. Today her blog entry mentions in passing that she often listened to Pearl Jam's Alive at high volume during her college days for hours on end. And today, somewhat later, I was driving to work and trying to find a decent song on the radio when I heard John Butler Trio and instantly stopped searching. I was now listening to a radio station I literally NEVER listen to, and then the 18-year-old announcer came on and said something hip and rad and groovy, as they do, and I was just about to change the channel again when he said ''Pearl Jam'' and then ''Alive" and then Eddie Vedder starting growling to me and I swear, Heather B. Armstrong might as well have called me directly on my mobile phone and asked me to fly straight to Utah so she could adopt me as her new best friend and constant companion. Harriet and I drove the rest of the way in stunned silence. Eddie growling. Me purring.

blow wind blow

Windy. Man, is it windy. Enough to blow a brown dog off its chain, in fact. The kind of wind you might call 'lazy', since it opts to blow right through you rather than go the long way around. That wind you can pretty much feel in your bones after you've been in it for a while. My grandma used to hate this kind of wind. I figure that's because she worked a dairy farm and had to spend hours out in it, roaming around a windswept cow paddock chasing 'the girls' in for milking when she probably would have much rather been sitting down to a slice of fresh butter with some bread on it and several cups of tea. These kind of days remind me of her, and the farm, and the cold that you just couldn't shake (although the Lan-Choo did a pretty good job of it). I hope that wherever she is, Grandma has a bottomless cup of tea, an endless supply of butter and a nice spot to sit, out of the wind.

are you receiving?

So I asked the universe for help. And literally within the hour I had received my brand new laptop (one week early) and received a phone call from a dear friend who, it turns out, was coming to see me this weekend, one month earlier than expected. Good things were brought forward for no other reason than to show me that help is out there. Friends are out there. And shiny red laptops are right here, helping me to write these very words.

one forward, three back

It seems news of my recovery was slightly premature. It seems, also, in this particular moment that hope is heavily camouflaged as struggle. I'm not sure I'm ready for the struggle. I'm not sure why I make things so difficult for myself. I'm not sure when or how the light will return and I'm not even sure what I'm going to do today to try and make a difference. But mostly I'm not sure why I find everything such a struggle when clearly there are millions of people out there with a real and gigantic reason for hurting. I don't know. I just don't.

my reading list

A very special delivery arrived last week from amazon.com and I'm already struggling to know which one to read first. Rather than make the decision, I've been flicking through all three and finding little gems in all of them that are so close to the mark it would be scary, if it weren't so exciting and liberating at the same time.