59 posts tagged “family”
I have been sitting and thinking about my Dad today. Dad died in 2000 at the age of 76. He was the 13th child in a family of 18th children born to first generation German-Australian migrants. By the time he was born some of his elder siblings were young adults. It was the depression and his father, though they farmed was more interested in drinking and partying than feeding his family. Often my Dad went hungry. He told me tales of catching rabbits at the age of 9 or 10 just to have something to eat. Once he was sent to live with am older brother who would disappear for days on end and not leave any food in the house for my Dad, a small child, to eat.
Back at the family "home" many of the children actually slept out in the shed [barn] and used hessian sacks as blankets. The bathroom was the dam or the creek. Food, usually, what they could find. Dad often told me that he probably owes much of survivial during his childhood to the lady who lived on the neighbouring farm, who would give Dad food to eat. I wonder if that woman ever knew what a role she played in my Dad's life? Other people no doubt would have just thought him a waif from a hopeless family, and not cared, but she did. Her generosity shaped my Dad.
Thoughout his life, he was always concerned that no one left his table not full and content. If anyone hung back he would urge tidbits on them. Sharing his food and his table was a joy to him, and one of the ways he showed his care and concern.
As Christmas draws near, I think of Dad, and the love and pride he had for his family. No Christmas ever passes without one of his Grandchildren remembering how Grandpa would steal food from their plates and pretend that he was going to eat it, and when they played the games and complained would return the food, and usually some from his own plate as well. He hated to think that someone might go hungry, or miss out. We neve did of course, we would all have a very full tummy when we rose from the table. Dad would complement the food and say "isn't that wonderful"! He showed his appreciation to all.
So, in many ways, though he is not physically with us, Dad still shapes our Christmas. We plan the menu, we talk about the food we will make and share. We strive to bring pleasure to each other. And to ourselves. Dad also taught us to honor ourselves as well. We deserve good things too. The real pleasure though comes from sharing and giving to others. That nourishes our spirit and our family bonds, even more than the physical food. That is the finest lesson Dad taught us, that caring for others is the greatest gift that we can give ourselves. Caring for others can change lives and shape generations to come. Just like the woman who shared her food with my Dad, sharing what we have can have far reaching effects that no one can know or see, but they are there. Through her simple kindness, our family continues to grow and prosper and pass on the gift that she gave my Dad.
Care about those around you, do the little things and the world grows and the gift goes on and on.
I am bringing my rampaging soul back into balance. Daughter1 had a meeting with Small Balls the Principal - she took HR and the union with her. I don't have details as yet, except what The Boy has passed on but the meeting went ok and Daughter1 is feeling 'empowered". Empowered is a good word in the Flamingo Dancer world. The union rep was so impressed on how she presented, and the information she wrote that he wants to offer her a job! That's my girl!
Daughter2 is feeling back in balance too, and Son has found out he is the last man standing for the next round of job interviews. I have asked if I can resubmit my assignment and I am waiting for a reply - if not I will live with it. I obviously made some errors and so I may have to suck it up and be a big girl.
Thank you for your support during my blood letting. Small Balls the Principal is still going to get his. Maybe Daughter1 should resign the first week that school returns in 2010, then he can squirm and find a replacement when all the good teachers are taken! My quiver of sticks are in readiness...
And it is raining so the heat has decreased. I am going to make a superb dinner tonight, inspired by Jamie Oliver, and maybe even crack a red and sing Christmas carols at the top of my rather off key voice. What I lack in talent I make up for with gusto and volume!
This week is one of those weeks when the whole Flamingo Dancer family feels that there is a bounty on their head and that we are slowly being pecked to death by ducks. Daughter2 was in tears last night due to workload stress and a work environment where no one provides the information that they are required to but fly to appropriate blame for their failure on others, Daughter1 is of course having ongoing issues but has her union with her now, Son is being put through the treadmill of third and fourth round interviews for job he could do blindfolded, Mr FD struggles to get his business onto firm footing (and some regular income!) and me...well, my family is under attack and so I have to protect them AND I got an unexpected bad mark on one of my last assignments and I am asking to resubmit - heavens I am human after all! Daughter2 tried to cheer me up with the comment that other people my age (51) are slipping in dementia (!) but that I am out there learning new things and tackling a new life - but perfectionist that I am that doesn't soothe my wounds.
I think I need a back up stick - a quiver full of sticks. Open hunting season had been declared. Gird you loins ye foe and foul, Flamingo Dancer strides forth!
Daughter1, the teacher, is being subjected to workplace bullying from her principal. It is a christian school and the principal does not like women in the workplace. In fact he is trying to negotiate employment contracts that exclude any rights to maternity leave. Daughter 1 is not only a member of the union but taking part in the negotiations and of course standing up for women's rights. This had meant that she, not the men who are fighting for the same things, but she as the lone woman has become his target.
Daughter1 is a little fragile, as she suffers from depression and so this is not an easy time for her. She has been called in to have a "meeting" with the little principal, but she is not going to any meeting without her union rep. I said that if she wants I will go to meetings with her - after my experiences in the Basement of Discontent last year, I know how to handle these damn bullies and liars.
I know we can't protect our children once they are grown and that they must fights their own figths, but public be warned, you take on any member of the Flamingo Dancer family and you get to fight all 5! Daughter2 has rallied with legal advice and support, Son is coming forth with HR advice and support, Mr FD is being the voice of reason and expereince, and I am just going to hone my stick to a point and go in for the kill. No on messes with us and can expect not to come out bloodied. We go into attack mode, not just defense mode. You often can't help what happens to you, but you do have control how it happens to you.
So, prepare for the storm... Flamingo Dancer is in battle mode. The stick shall reign!
It is our expereince, that christian schools that profess love and christian values are most frequently the abuser of employee rights.
I am so angry and to make it worse, that far right climate change denier, women hating, indigenous hating bigot Tony Abbot has just been voted in as the leader of the oppostion Liberal Party. I hope that The Big Whatever smites him and smites him hard. What is wrong with the universe? How can a bully boy al la Dick Cheney rise to such a level in Australia? Thank God Kevin Rudd is still in power - he better make sure he stays in power or I may have to move to Provence sooner than I expected. Rupert Murdoch must be rubbing his hands together in glee - he loves Tony Abbot.
Enough said, as GOF suggested re my twitch, I should keep busy to avoid my thoughts and anger. I am going to get the stick out of storage and sharpen it to a fine point. I has me some huntin' to do. Stay indoors if you are squeamish.
I want to start playing Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole Christmas songs and to dive into the cupboard under the stairs to find all the bits that make up our Christmas tree. I want to deck the halls with holly and tralalalalala. I want to make a list and check it twice.
This is probably the first Christmas that I will decorate the tree alone, now that both daughters no longer live at home. Daughter1 and The Boy have just bought their own tree and are on the way to setting their own traditions.
It is funny what traditions get carried on by our families. When Mr FD and I celebrated our first Christmas together, I bought a little Mr and Mrs Claus tree ornament and set it right in the middle of the tree. Every year since Mr and Mrs Claus have reclaimed their position. The other day Daughter1 told me that she had been driving The Boy crazy in her search for the perfect Mr and Mrs Claus for their tree. She must have a Mr and Mrs Claus too. It makes me smile to think of their future with their tree. They are so filled with hope and plans.
This is the first Christmas in years and years where I don't have to work like crazy up to the last moment. I have time to enjoy and indulge myself in all the Christmas joys I wish. All I am asking Santa for is a job...and I have been good...well mostly good...as good as a Flamingo Dancer can be. Maybe I had better bake extra cookies for him...
Son has just driven off to his univeristy exam. I am more nervous than when I go to exams myself. I guess that a parent always wants the best for their child and even if they are 24 and a big hairy man! I kept a low profile until Son left so that my nervousness wouldn't freak him out.
Daughter2 ran a 5.2km marathon after work last night. It was a twilight marathon. This is the same girl who climbed two of the Glass House Mts last weekend. [When we say mountain in Australia, take it with a little grain of salt. Our Mountains are sometimes more a description than an actuality]. This is the same girl who spent her 15th year horizontal in her bed, with severe chronic fatigue. She is 28 years old now and doing things we never dared hope for her. This weekend she is buying a bike so she can go riding with Daughter1 and The Boy. I can't believe these are my daughters. It has been a long road for her, but damn, nothing is going to stop her. I am in awe!
Mr FD is on the road in his new car. He keeps phoning me and singing me "I'm driving in my car". Springsteen has nothing to worry about. I would still be his in a blink. I am happy that Mr FD is enjoying the thrill of a new car ...before they repossess it at least! Hopefully he is doing more than just drinving in his car, but making some money as well!
I am feeling a strong desire to start baking again. My nesting instinct is coming back. Damn. First I have to rediscover my house under the filth and dust of the past 12 months. I was going to take before and after photos to show on my blog to motivate me into action, but I fear you would all tell me to change my name to Pig in Mud instead of Flamingo Dancer! You will just have to be content with my written crowing about my domestic superiority instead.
Daytime television viewing is really bad. Well the advertising is really bad. I think I missed out on the Snuggies as it is now summer, but I can still get in on the shamwow offer. I can't help wondering how one washes a shamwow if they absorb all the water? I can also buy life insurance before my medical results come back from the doctor to make my husband happy, and buy funeral insurance so that my children don't have to worry about throwing me in a hole. Then I can lemon detox and shed a dress size [and my health] in two days. After that I can buy Nude cosmetics and hide all the ugly bits - does it come in a drum? I won't mention the range of sports equipment that I can have delivered to my door either. It is a full regime being made dissatisfied with myself and fearful of life in general.
The crow has left his post. I started lying on my bed with a pile of pillows blocking its view of my face. I did hear a noise at the bathroom window early last night, like a bird clawing against the screen, but I didn't investigate. I am starting to feel like I am in a remake of The Birds! Between magpie season and being told to walk around with an ice cream container with eyes drawn on the back of it, on my head to avoid a pecking attack and now the Crow Stalker , I feel like I am an endangered species.
Isn't Al Gore looking good these days? Lost weight, better haircut. Does he have a girlfriend?
My mother phones to say that her sister, my aunt, is to have chemo after her bowel cancer surgery. At least that is what I think she said. She told me "you know those tablets you have after you have an operation". Chemo, Mum? "I don't know, I don't ask questions!" Then she proceeds to make all sorts of wild claims and predictions based on no information and no fact. I guess it should be no surprise to anyone that I have a mother who is rampant, but it still surprises me. Was she like this when we were growing up? Surely not. Yeah, probably. Explains a lot doesn't it?
I have spoken to my sister 3 times by phone this week. I love my sister. She doesn't understand me at all, but she loves me. What more can you ask from a big sister? I on the other hand understand her too well, but I still love her. That is what younger sisters are for.
Another niece engaged. Two family weddings planned for next year. We are expecting at least one more yet - wedding that is. The changing of the guard generation wise. We are becoming the elder statesmen/women. It is a nice thing. I am ready to hand over and be dotty and allow them to take the pressure.
I think I will lie here in bed a little longer and think about house cleaning and baking. It is a life and someone has to live it. I sacrifice myself for you!
- The star jasmine is flowering over the arbour outside our patio door. It looks like a huge white bridal bouquet and smells like heaven.
- Daughter 1 has her wedding dress. It took her 20 minutes to select off the rack. Daughter 2 had her bridesmaid dress. It took her 15 minutes to choose off the rack. The Boy has his groom's suit. It took him 90 minutes to choose off the rack...
- Grandma Flamingo fell asleep during the funeral on Friday. I looked at her and she was dozing on the pew. I told her to snap to, or she was in danger of being wheeled out to the hearse. She was ram rod straight for the rest of the service!
- Mr FD is flying to Adelaide tomorrow. Peace in our time! I won't say for whom! He has orders to bring back jumbo Haigh's chocolate frogs. They are HUGE and YUMMY and last about 32 seconds in the Flamingo Dancer household! He has been told not to come home if he fails in his mission.
- God daughter turned 1 last week. She is soooo cute. I played with her on Friday afternoon. We unwrapped her birthday present together. She was very serious about it, with a little frown across her brow until she achieved opening the present and had time to inspect and then the smiles came. A woman not easily won...Flamingo Dancer to the core!
- I understand why Obama got the Nobel Peace Prize. Didn't you breath a sigh of relief when he said the USA wouldn't go ahead with its Stars Wars project and putting bases in Poland etc facing Russia? I felt as though we had taken a giant step back from another catastrophe. I feel it is recognition that the rest of the world is happy dancing that USA is coming into the 21st century and seeking peace, not conflict. Give him another if it helps!
- My brother in law turned 68 on Friday. I have a BIL who is 68! We did not put candles on the cake.
- Son has learnt a new way to get extra money from me. He says he needs cash to get a hair cut and of course no mother is going to refuse that, so I hand over the cash. He somehow forgets to get the haircut and three weeks later asks me for cash for a haircut. Of course he needs it more urgently now and so no mother is going to refuse and so he gets the money. Now when he requests hair cut money, I ask if this is for the pretend haircut or the real haircut. He still gets the money.
- You know that I am doing this just to waste time away from my studies don't you?
- For those of you who have seen the black face routine on Hey Hey It's Saturday, please don't think that is representative of contemporary Australian humour. Darryl Sommers has been the sad butt of jokes for the past few years and the only way he could cling to celebrity was to revisit a show concept that had its time 20 years ago. I was horrified to hear that they were bringing the stupid show back in the first place - it was always pathetic. A sad example of a television network who thought returning to the past would get ratings. One point though - few people picked up on the fact that the man with the white Michael Jackson face was in fact an Indian. Not that it made the skit any more palatable. Still the hoohah doesn't stop the children dying of starvation and malaria in Africa does it?
- Now that my daughters live away from home, it takes half a day of phone calls to catch up on my family each week - Mother Flamingo Dancer, Sister Flamingo Dancer, Daughter1 and Daughter 2...whew. Mr FD gets his mother and usually his sister, though there are times when we fight over answering the phone when we suspect it is her and I get the short straw and have to speak with her...
- It is raining tiny tiny rain drops. The first rain we have had in over 2 months. I am pretending I don't hear it, in case I scare it away. The lawn is crispy dry under my feet when I walk out to the clothes line...Mr FD just called out that it is raining. I told him to shut up. He apologised automatically as he is trained to do. I can smell the dust settling. Heaven.
- BIL asked me if I went to communion during the funeral mass. We both said at the same time "because that is the only way people know you are there!" I love my BIL - he understands my evilosity.
- It is raining harder now. Obviously the rain doesn't read blogs. Yet.
- I can't avoid the study any longer can I? Can I?
Hey World,
It’s been 51 odd years and so I think it is finally time to have a word with you. A summary of your efforts and effects as it were.
First, right out of the chute you loaded me with a couple of physical problems that have shaped my life and me. Oh, and then there was the bit about telling 1950s Mothers that bottle was better than breast, and that we had to be on a schedule. Thanks for introducing us to the world of anxiety and rules, World, good idea that. Not. And before we move out of the hospital nursery, thanks for loading me up with the time bomb eye tumour – eye and I just made it to 18 years.
Ok World, out of the nursery and onto the catholic primary education with the Sisters of No Mercy. I enjoyed the terror and fear for those seven important formative years of my life. It was probably a good thing that I didn’t figure out until my adult years that a lot of the treatment that was dealt out was according to whether you were Irish catholic [Australian] and therefore favoured or German catholic [Australian] and therefore bullied by racist nuns. [Australian Irish catholic]. Not sure World, if that was a lesson I needed right then, but it probably fuelled the strong desire for social justice that drives me now. The big plus was the friend that I found in the kindergarten sand pit that still has an important role in my life to this day.
Thankfully I discovered books and reading, thanks in part to a neighbour that you placed next door. And my big sister. Thanks for that one World. It helped me escape the cultural wasteland of a happy home. I bless you for the happy home and the parents who obviously loved me. Of course World, you had to balance it out with a mother who passed her anxiety about EVERYTHING on to me, so that her voice questioning my ability to accomplish anything new or unusual in still in my head. Maybe that is why I have become so stubborn and will launch myself into the new challenges just to achieve. I won’t let you get me down you know, World, even though you try over and over again.
I did think the alcoholic father, a melancholy self medicator, might have been a step too far, but hey, everyone in my world had an alcoholic father after WWII. Despite that I never doubted he loved me and was proud of me. He was a gentle man, and he thought I could do anything. He shaped me stoic and persistent.
Ah the teenage years. At least there was release into the state school system. Sadly it was a country high school in the early 1970s and so the male teachers just taught to the male students. However, thanks to a couple of female English and History teachers the rest of my life had a shape. And of course I found those lifelong friends that I have to this day, as precarious as some of their lives now are. That was a good one, World, I’ll congratulate you on that one.
The eye was probably the defining moment for the teenage years, but you did balance it with the arrival of Mr FD in the middle of the drama. Not many men think a young woman with a hole in her head and a huge bandage is sexy but he managed it somehow, so big tick on that one. Big tick on that one all round – except he could have been a little taller. I think even he would agree on that one.
The twenties – marriage, babies, domestic life. The good life. I never wanted it to end. If I could have stopped time that is where I would be now. They grew up though and so did I. I just tried to make them confident, and happy, and encouraged them to follow their passions. I will let it up to them to score me on that one, but I enjoyed it all. It kind of pissed me off when you made it all progress away from me.
My 30s. Well, World, you gave me a mixed bag there. University education as a mature age student – 36 when I began the first degree. Back into the work force full time to educate those children. Emergencies that meant sleeping beside hospital beds at night and trying to juggle employment, but we all survived. Maybe even thrived.
The big 40. It was ok, you know. Frustrations at the lack of a career where I wasn’t used and abused and bored. Family life – you gradually took Dad away from us, first his mind and then his spirit. Can’t forgive you for that one, World. You gave Daughter2 too many physical burdens too, and we watched her fade until we snatched her back. Mr FD unemployed, and me the bread winner for awhile. We came back stronger, and learnt the life lesson not to let others – parents, employers or your own fears – set your life agenda. Even you World – I can’t always choose the people and events that you send me, but I can choose the way I deal with them. And I do.
The end of my 40s brought a change of city that I tried to ignore, but maybe in the long run was the best thing, World, for me in a long time. Maybe not for Mr FD, but that is his story to tell. Ups and Downs all around, but opportunities to be what we really wanted to be, all of us. New lives crafted, new friends made, old ones rediscovered.
Ah, now you have me in my 50s, World. Not bad. Not what I imagined – back at university, and a new career. A new me. New experiences, new friends. The Boy added to our family. Big tick there, World. Some financial security would be good, hopefully in the new year, World – no, definitely in the new year, thanks. Don’t worry, I will sort it out for myself.
Not sure, World, if you loaded up the early years with hard stuff for a purpose or not. Was it just luck of my draw? Could have done without most of it , well in a perfect world, all of it, but then again maybe I wouldn’t like me as much as I do now if I hadn’t lived through what I did. Do. Others had much worse, and others much better. One of the things about you World that puzzles me – our human need to rise above despite the cost to others. Man’s inhumanity to man. Ditto women.
Not ready to rate you yet, World. The race is not yet run. I expect there are going to be some more hardships, and hopefully some happy times. I like the happy dances. I hope that at the end I can shake my fist at you and declare that I took you on and did my best. Go on, move along, I am here.
Saturday was like a double layer chocolate cake that I kept going back to for second helpings. Friday was like the entrée that you really enjoy eating but find a hair, of a colour not your own, towards the end of the dish.
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