I have this old, sadly broken box in my special-stuff-drawer. It's red and heart-shaped, with a long crack running down the centre of the lid, marking where someone had once pushed it too hard. If you tried to ease it open and get inside, it'd separate into three pieces, so I never kept anything inside it. It’s just a lonely, empty, little heart. Loved once, but shoved in the corner to collect dust after it snapped.
I could just throw it out, but I think, one day, I'm going to pull it out from its dusty corner and perform some loving surgery. Find a little glue and sew the shattered shards tenderly back together. Fuse those fragments into something complete, so it can safely embrace valuables again.
Do you know any hearts that need mending?
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Spoiled Memories
Do you have a special place in your childhood memory? A moment close to your heart that radiated warm and fuzzy feelings?
Mine was a food hall in the city. We used to go there for dinner on special nights, with the quiet chatter and scraping forks mixing with the serene night air. We'd buy our favourite Chinese dishes and quickly slather our chicken chunks with sauce so the slower guys had to eat theirs dry. We'd play in the little playground after tea, while the oldies watched fish swim lazily around the tranquil pool.
I visited my hallowed recently. We parked at the back car park, stepped over the dirty puddles and empty coke cans to be greeted with a cracked glass door, mended with silver duct tape. Odd. I hadn't remembered that bit. Inside, the food stalls lined the walls, their paint faded, their servers smiling like it was a funeral and their sign banners screaming R.I.P.
Sickened, we bought the traditional Chinese platter. The lady served our food, her mouth like curved like an unlucky horseshoe, while her hands dolefully doled out. We handed over our money, and she handed over the food with a my-life-is-over-take-your-food-you-miserable-sucker expression.
Instead of the glittering lights adding mood to the meal, the glarey fluorescence tubes lit up our plates unflattering. The food was good, but not brilliant. The sauce thankfully drowned any flavours that shouldn't be there. The playground was gone, replaced by a area of dull sand. The fishpond was gone, replaced by a dull area of nothing.
This experience put a black cloud on that fond memory. As we left, I felt a part of myself had gone, a part of my childhood innocence stolen. Beware of reliving your golden childhood memories. Over the years, Grandma's passion fruit vine has died, Mum's amazing cupcakes were actually from Coles, and your favourite climbing tree at the local park got torn down to make way for a cold, concrete car park.
Or maybe it was our childish imaginations that turned these little unremarkable pockets of space into the best getaways in the whole wide universe. Either way, think twice about going back.
What's your golden childhood memory?
Mine was a food hall in the city. We used to go there for dinner on special nights, with the quiet chatter and scraping forks mixing with the serene night air. We'd buy our favourite Chinese dishes and quickly slather our chicken chunks with sauce so the slower guys had to eat theirs dry. We'd play in the little playground after tea, while the oldies watched fish swim lazily around the tranquil pool.
I visited my hallowed recently. We parked at the back car park, stepped over the dirty puddles and empty coke cans to be greeted with a cracked glass door, mended with silver duct tape. Odd. I hadn't remembered that bit. Inside, the food stalls lined the walls, their paint faded, their servers smiling like it was a funeral and their sign banners screaming R.I.P.
Sickened, we bought the traditional Chinese platter. The lady served our food, her mouth like curved like an unlucky horseshoe, while her hands dolefully doled out. We handed over our money, and she handed over the food with a my-life-is-over-take-your-food-you-miserable-sucker expression.
Instead of the glittering lights adding mood to the meal, the glarey fluorescence tubes lit up our plates unflattering. The food was good, but not brilliant. The sauce thankfully drowned any flavours that shouldn't be there. The playground was gone, replaced by a area of dull sand. The fishpond was gone, replaced by a dull area of nothing.
This experience put a black cloud on that fond memory. As we left, I felt a part of myself had gone, a part of my childhood innocence stolen. Beware of reliving your golden childhood memories. Over the years, Grandma's passion fruit vine has died, Mum's amazing cupcakes were actually from Coles, and your favourite climbing tree at the local park got torn down to make way for a cold, concrete car park.
Or maybe it was our childish imaginations that turned these little unremarkable pockets of space into the best getaways in the whole wide universe. Either way, think twice about going back.
What's your golden childhood memory?
Saturday, October 3, 2009
"I Feel Great!"
©Andrew Matthews.
This reminded me so much of a recent conversation I had with one of my most awesomest friends.Sometimes, when we're in agonizing pain, we do our uttermost to hide it from everyone. We'll grin, joke, and say, "I'm fine! This broken leg that's seeping blood into the carpet? Nahhhh, feels right as rain. I'm just changing the colour of the flooring to the shade you've always wanted!" But as soon as everyone turns their back, we double over, and try to convince ourselves those bright flashes on the floor are from the broken lights. If someone does notice the quiet sound of our teeth grating and turn around, we'll quickly straighten and slap on our best innocently nonchalant expression.
(Just don't overdo it and lean nonchalantly on the nearest mantelpiece — they usually have fragile items on top... Don't ask me how I know.)
Saturday, February 21, 2009
When We Were Young
Life can be complicated. Which is a good thing in a way, because life might be plain boring if it wasn't. But I do wish it wasn't so head-numbingly intricate sometimes.
Life was so simple when I was younger. Yes, I had problems, but they were easier to solve. For example, if my sister asked for some of my chocolate bar, and we didn't have a knife to cut it, the solution was simple. Don't give her any.
If I was playing the Xbox by myself and didn't want others to join, I would unconnect the other controllers and say they weren't working.
There was no, 'I can't do that because so-and-so would get offended' or 'don't mention anything about that thing to whatshername or she'll hate you forever' and absolutely no, 'don't you dare talk to Nancy because Jim's mad at her for no-one-knows-what-reason and he will have your hide if you as much think about talking to her.'
It was all about me. Me first, me second, and if there was anything left over — I had to have that as well.
You get in my way? You get hurt? Boo-hoo to you.
I'm glad to say, I have changed. I've grown up a little. I've started to care about other people more and I have a new tactics for problems. Nowadays, if someone asks if they can play the Xbox when I want to play by myself...
I flat out say, "Nope!"
Honesty is the best policy!
Life was so simple when I was younger. Yes, I had problems, but they were easier to solve. For example, if my sister asked for some of my chocolate bar, and we didn't have a knife to cut it, the solution was simple. Don't give her any.
If I was playing the Xbox by myself and didn't want others to join, I would unconnect the other controllers and say they weren't working.
There was no, 'I can't do that because so-and-so would get offended' or 'don't mention anything about that thing to whatshername or she'll hate you forever' and absolutely no, 'don't you dare talk to Nancy because Jim's mad at her for no-one-knows-what-reason and he will have your hide if you as much think about talking to her.'
It was all about me. Me first, me second, and if there was anything left over — I had to have that as well.
You get in my way? You get hurt? Boo-hoo to you.
I'm glad to say, I have changed. I've grown up a little. I've started to care about other people more and I have a new tactics for problems. Nowadays, if someone asks if they can play the Xbox when I want to play by myself...
I flat out say, "Nope!"
Honesty is the best policy!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
A Poem For Chestnut
We found his still body lying inside the gate,
His limbs still warm, like we were only just late.
My siblings saw him dead, and cried over the life,
Dad saw him dead, and went fetched his knife.
It was our little kid Chestnut, with his eyes half closed,
His long ears limp, and dirt smeared on his nose.
Our small pet goat was not yet a year old,
When he finally lay still, his body growing cold.
We might have buried him under an old gum tree,
With a little dirt mound for the world to see,
But his short, chubby body isn't there under the logs.
What his spirit left was cut and given to the dogs.
He was like the little runt of that breeding year,
Small compared to others, but oh-so dear.
He almost had a kind of switch inside his tum,
On or off. Sleeping or a hyper ball of fun.
When you went to the yard, he'd come running, full throttle.
Did you remember him? Did you bring his plastic milk bottle?
His brown nose would nudge you, he'd find where it's hiding,
Or he'd suck on your jeans – see if they're worth trying.
When I think of Chestnut, I'll remember his energy,
His eyes full of life, his crazy moments of glee.
The day before, he scratched my boot and left a line.
I don't think I'll polish it away for some time.
His limbs still warm, like we were only just late.
My siblings saw him dead, and cried over the life,
Dad saw him dead, and went fetched his knife.
It was our little kid Chestnut, with his eyes half closed,
His long ears limp, and dirt smeared on his nose.
Our small pet goat was not yet a year old,
When he finally lay still, his body growing cold.
We might have buried him under an old gum tree,
With a little dirt mound for the world to see,
But his short, chubby body isn't there under the logs.
What his spirit left was cut and given to the dogs.
He was like the little runt of that breeding year,
Small compared to others, but oh-so dear.
He almost had a kind of switch inside his tum,
On or off. Sleeping or a hyper ball of fun.
When you went to the yard, he'd come running, full throttle.
Did you remember him? Did you bring his plastic milk bottle?
His brown nose would nudge you, he'd find where it's hiding,
Or he'd suck on your jeans – see if they're worth trying.
When I think of Chestnut, I'll remember his energy,
His eyes full of life, his crazy moments of glee.
The day before, he scratched my boot and left a line.
I don't think I'll polish it away for some time.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Pizza!
Pizza is a glorious invention!
First, there's the perfect base, crispy around the edges and thick and spongy in the middle. Then the rich tomato paste, lathering the base with purée-a-fied tomato, garlic, onion and spices. The juicy vegtables—soft, but still with crunch—are spread out across the red carpet . The tender meat... so succulent. Last but not least, the cheese is lavishly laid on the top. After melting to most beautiful texture, the softly stringy cheese is what holds the pizza together. If the sight of a beautiful pizza doesn't makes you fall in love, the aroma will.
But. There is an invention that threatens to top the Great Pizza, which is... Delivered Pizza! And even the Delivered Pizza is being threatend by the invention of the... Delivered Pizza ordered through the Internet!
YAAAAAAAAAAAYYY!!!
I stayed at my sister's house a while ago and experienced my first ever 'Delivered Pizza'. *Awed moment of silence.* It was brilliant!! We clicked a few buttons on a computer, waited a bit... then 'tap tap tap' goes our food!! Not only does the pizza come to us, it also politely knocks on the door to say 'Coommmmmmmeeee eeaaattttt meeeee!!"
As the alien, ALF, says; "Food that comes to you? I love this planet!"
First, there's the perfect base, crispy around the edges and thick and spongy in the middle. Then the rich tomato paste, lathering the base with purée-a-fied tomato, garlic, onion and spices. The juicy vegtables—soft, but still with crunch—are spread out across the red carpet . The tender meat... so succulent. Last but not least, the cheese is lavishly laid on the top. After melting to most beautiful texture, the softly stringy cheese is what holds the pizza together. If the sight of a beautiful pizza doesn't makes you fall in love, the aroma will.
But. There is an invention that threatens to top the Great Pizza, which is... Delivered Pizza! And even the Delivered Pizza is being threatend by the invention of the... Delivered Pizza ordered through the Internet!
YAAAAAAAAAAAYYY!!!
I stayed at my sister's house a while ago and experienced my first ever 'Delivered Pizza'. *Awed moment of silence.* It was brilliant!! We clicked a few buttons on a computer, waited a bit... then 'tap tap tap' goes our food!! Not only does the pizza come to us, it also politely knocks on the door to say 'Coommmmmmmeeee eeaaattttt meeeee!!"
As the alien, ALF, says; "Food that comes to you? I love this planet!"
Saturday, January 24, 2009
iPod Wisdom
Yesterday, I was given a piece of profound wisdom:
"Don't put you iPod in water. It will get wet."
So, the very next day, guess I do to my iPod?
I put it in water. And it gets wet.
I wasn't trying to!! Honestly I wasn't. *Puts on her best angelic face* But sometimes, when someone annouces such a statement, we simply must try it for ourselves. Just so we know it's for real. There is something, deep within our inner soul, that longs for truth and puts forth questions to even the most obvious of statements.
I mean, what's wrong with getting my iPod wet, anyway? Or what if I put it in lemonade?
All I can say is: don't pull your hair. It hurts.
"Don't put you iPod in water. It will get wet."
So, the very next day, guess I do to my iPod?
I put it in water. And it gets wet.
I wasn't trying to!! Honestly I wasn't. *Puts on her best angelic face* But sometimes, when someone annouces such a statement, we simply must try it for ourselves. Just so we know it's for real. There is something, deep within our inner soul, that longs for truth and puts forth questions to even the most obvious of statements.
I mean, what's wrong with getting my iPod wet, anyway? Or what if I put it in lemonade?
All I can say is: don't pull your hair. It hurts.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Gone Fishing
The whole idea was born when a friend of Dad's told him about this super-duper fishing place on the South coast. Dad doesn't fish, but decided it was a Dad's duty to get the family away doing something together these holidays and announced we were off to the wilderness for a few days.
There were a few points wrong with that. Firstly, the only fish I ever remember the family catching was a spiky puffer fish.
Secondly, the road our friend recommended wasn't even on the map. Or, more specifically, only half the road is recorded. Our map shows the 'track' ending about 5km from the coast. Promising. Ron and I were taking our unicycles in case our old van couldn't make it to the sea.
One good point you could say about this 'fish haven location', is that it isn't in the middle of nowhere. It's smack-bang between Albany and Bremer Bay. Just like the Nullarbor is between Perth and Sydney! Awesome.
But, I do our friend, Colin, an injustice. The road was right there where he said it was. Sure it was a eeny-weeny bit bumpy, and sure Ruben's shirt had turned a shade browner than when we left... but we made it! And it did go all the way to the coast, thankfully.
We stayed one night there. I got one forth of our small tent, which equals a space about two metres by half a metre. I like camping at home, because we would drag out great big mattresses from our beds and ‘rough-it’. With my six siblings travelling, there wasn't enough room for these necessities. I also think the dirt at home is softer than on the coast. The ground I slept on was hard. Really hard. I had a sleeping bag, but when I tried lying down in it, my back honestly started aching. The little nerve men in my spine were hopping up and down, moaning something about my comfort radar going into the red no-go zone.
Another bonus about coastal ground; not only was it hard, it was also sloped. Just a teeny, weeny, meeny, squeezy bit. A few times during the night, I had to shift a little back up the slope to stop squishing my little brother. Poor Maryanne was sleeping on the bottom end. It might have been nice to not have anywhere to roll to, but it might have been very not nice to have three siblings trying not to roll on top of you.
To get to the sea from our campsite, we could either go trekking through a few hundred metres of soft sand; or down this near vertical sand bank. This trip has been great for my education! I now know why professional runners labour through sand dunes for their training.
We had a great time on the seaside! Frolicking in the waves, climbing rocks and fishing. I got to cast a rod a few times and managed to get the line spinning out onto the rocks, where it stuck. It was great to see the fish swimming around look oh-so happy! Especially when they were eating the bait off my hook. I wonder if there are fines for feeding the wildlife...
We caught a total of 3 fish. Four, if you count the one I managed to get! No one seemed very impressed with my prize though. It's about three centimeters long and about as wide. It might be nice to toss into some stew once I wash the sand off. You wouldn't think fish would have much sand on them, swimming around in salty dihydro-monoxide all their life, but this little fella was caked in it when I found him washed up on the shore. Forget the rod, I caught more walking along the water seeing what the tide had brought in.
The joys of camping! Don't you just love it?! I certainly do. Although I must admit it could do without the sand... and the insects... and the uncomfortable sleeping ground... and the smelly dunny... and the grumpy siblings... and I suppose it would've been nice for the sand to be unicycle-rideable. But other than that — fun fun fun!!
There were a few points wrong with that. Firstly, the only fish I ever remember the family catching was a spiky puffer fish.
Secondly, the road our friend recommended wasn't even on the map. Or, more specifically, only half the road is recorded. Our map shows the 'track' ending about 5km from the coast. Promising. Ron and I were taking our unicycles in case our old van couldn't make it to the sea.
One good point you could say about this 'fish haven location', is that it isn't in the middle of nowhere. It's smack-bang between Albany and Bremer Bay. Just like the Nullarbor is between Perth and Sydney! Awesome.
But, I do our friend, Colin, an injustice. The road was right there where he said it was. Sure it was a eeny-weeny bit bumpy, and sure Ruben's shirt had turned a shade browner than when we left... but we made it! And it did go all the way to the coast, thankfully.
We stayed one night there. I got one forth of our small tent, which equals a space about two metres by half a metre. I like camping at home, because we would drag out great big mattresses from our beds and ‘rough-it’. With my six siblings travelling, there wasn't enough room for these necessities. I also think the dirt at home is softer than on the coast. The ground I slept on was hard. Really hard. I had a sleeping bag, but when I tried lying down in it, my back honestly started aching. The little nerve men in my spine were hopping up and down, moaning something about my comfort radar going into the red no-go zone.
Another bonus about coastal ground; not only was it hard, it was also sloped. Just a teeny, weeny, meeny, squeezy bit. A few times during the night, I had to shift a little back up the slope to stop squishing my little brother. Poor Maryanne was sleeping on the bottom end. It might have been nice to not have anywhere to roll to, but it might have been very not nice to have three siblings trying not to roll on top of you.
To get to the sea from our campsite, we could either go trekking through a few hundred metres of soft sand; or down this near vertical sand bank. This trip has been great for my education! I now know why professional runners labour through sand dunes for their training.
We had a great time on the seaside! Frolicking in the waves, climbing rocks and fishing. I got to cast a rod a few times and managed to get the line spinning out onto the rocks, where it stuck. It was great to see the fish swimming around look oh-so happy! Especially when they were eating the bait off my hook. I wonder if there are fines for feeding the wildlife...
We caught a total of 3 fish. Four, if you count the one I managed to get! No one seemed very impressed with my prize though. It's about three centimeters long and about as wide. It might be nice to toss into some stew once I wash the sand off. You wouldn't think fish would have much sand on them, swimming around in salty dihydro-monoxide all their life, but this little fella was caked in it when I found him washed up on the shore. Forget the rod, I caught more walking along the water seeing what the tide had brought in.
The joys of camping! Don't you just love it?! I certainly do. Although I must admit it could do without the sand... and the insects... and the uncomfortable sleeping ground... and the smelly dunny... and the grumpy siblings... and I suppose it would've been nice for the sand to be unicycle-rideable. But other than that — fun fun fun!!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Farewell, My Steve
And so, hereth endeth the year of 2008.
I love New Year Celebrations. It's a reminder to reflect and look back, then move forward. It's the time to make all those New Year Resolutions to break later in the year. A time to think about all the mistakes you've made(like getting addicted to chocolate), and all the good times you've had(like getting addicted to chocolate).
I have so many great memories of this year. A year ago today, Ferny and I decided to call the new year 'Steve'. And so it was, the start of a great friendship. We had our ups and downs and more ups and even a few diagonals.
Out with the old, in with the new. Farewell, 2008. Hulllooooo 2009!
I think I'll call him Trevor.
I love New Year Celebrations. It's a reminder to reflect and look back, then move forward. It's the time to make all those New Year Resolutions to break later in the year. A time to think about all the mistakes you've made(like getting addicted to chocolate), and all the good times you've had(like getting addicted to chocolate).
I have so many great memories of this year. A year ago today, Ferny and I decided to call the new year 'Steve'. And so it was, the start of a great friendship. We had our ups and downs and more ups and even a few diagonals.
Out with the old, in with the new. Farewell, 2008. Hulllooooo 2009!
I think I'll call him Trevor.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
