Australia

the joy of a saturday morning

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Back in the sixties as a pre-schooler my Saturday mornings were spent in the company of my mother doing her domestic duties. Dad worked five and half days a week. We lived in a country town. As was usual, Mum was a housewife. She and I had seven days a week but those Saturday mornings had a particular ambiance, and soundtrack: AM radio – sixties music and wedding calls. That period is a tactile memory. Many Saturdays I call it up. My partners have generally been six day week workers. I’ve always worked five days so my Saturday mornings are gold, awakening to a desk free day. In the past I channelled what is now termed my “Domestic Goddess”, whipped through housework, followed by a grocery shop and cooking. Now and then I still do. However, a move to a smaller apartment where housework is covered off day-to-day, a thankful lessening of my housekeeping standards, and online shopping unfettered my schedule. I now listen to FM or digital radio from my inner-city kitchen via internet streaming. Even free to choose my activities, old habits die hard. I usually put on a load of washing: the thrum of the machine resonates back to days when it was a reassuring backdrop. I burn incense, drink coffee, eat toast in bed, write, read a book or whatever is on the ‘net, take recreational excursions to shops or markets. On Saturday mornings it doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do or where I am: somewhere I’m still four years old in our little house on Scott St, sliding on Handy Andy mopped floors, smelling Mr Sheen polished furniture and chocolate cake baking. Perhaps the clearest memory I have of my mother. Thanks Mum for the gift of Saturday mornings.

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dear universe

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I’ve been reading my stars compulsively.  Sure they were speaking to me. The winds of change breezed around my shoulders. I was waiting for things to happen that didn’t happen and then did happen but not the way I wanted them to. The horoscope fairytales led me on flights of fancy, believing my dreams would be fulfilled by an eclipse in Sagittarius. It was my own sign, fiery and beholden to the truth, not some other untrustworthy watery or airy sign. It wouldn’t let me down.  It let me down.  I felt like I did when one of my early boyfriends abandoned me for a night at the greyhound races. After 2 days I peeked again at the Sagi stars, reasoning it’s not the same for everyone, maybe it wasn’t my time yet. The horoscopes concurred with another eclipse signalling life transformation. I watched that eclipse from the balcony of the hotel room we were staying in on the coast.  The path of moonlight glimmered a promise across the bay. The eclipse passed and other than the artifical hiatus of a night in an unexpected suite upgrade at a resort hotel, the life we were hoping to escape continues its groundhog day-like existence. I tried to stay away from the horoscope pages. But it’s so easy, enlightenment is so close, just a couple of clicks and the promises appear, teasing me like a stripper on stage in a dim, sticky night club. Today I read “You need to  make your wishes known to the Universe”.  For God’s sake, the Universe must be bloody deaf, or has me on hold with all the other sad Sagi’s in the queue waiting to voice our humdrum petitions. So here it is in writing… “Dear Universe, Get. Me. Out. Of. Here.  Best Regards,  EllaDee”.

pour commencer

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Nanna, you’ll be impressed I hope, that you were responsible for leading me to the avenue via which I could start a blog, something I’ve been long thinking of.  Your page http://nancyhuntart.wordpress.com/ prompted me to create my own.  And many times you asked me why I wasn’t writing when I said I wanted to.  Among the reasons why I don’t write are: absolutely no motivation and headspace before, during or after work; tired; bored; unmotivated; unsociable; nothing to write about; not seeing what there is to write about; I’m reading something; busy with the rest of my life; need to cook, clean, eat, shop, sleep…  This is not the exhaustive list and none of the reasons are good ones.  So, true to say I’m not a writer but I like to write, and enjoy myself when I do.  Right now, and for the last quite a few months, things have been a little slow for me at work, so to keep myself sane and amused I have started writing… again.