26 July 2007

Bye bye Nanna

My Nan died early on Monday morning, aged 78. My poor Pop - who described Nanna as his soul mate and has been with her for nearly 60 years - is a bit lost, and I don't know how things will go for him with time. My Mum is naturally upset, but over the years (ever the practical nurse), she has talked honestly with Nanna about her mortality. While it was a bit sudden, in some ways it wasn't - she smoked for 40 or so years, was quite obese for much of her life, and in the past 15 or so years, there have been many angina attacks, bad arthritis, and a few other conditions that increased with frequency over more recent years. So when it came down to Nanna being in a coma hooked up to machines, it was clear to her immediate family what Nanna's wishes were, they were able to instruct the doctors accordingly. And her poor old body had really had enough.

My Nan was born at the beginning of the Depression, and her mother died when she was 3. She and her sister were fostered out with family, and her father went back to living a bachelor life and went looking for work. She lived for a while with an Aunty and Uncle who loved her, but who were having difficult pregnancies, therefore she was handed around the family a bit. Sometimes she was "a bit of a handful" - according to her - and she was whipped or hit for it. Her dad remarried later, but she didn't go back to living with him. She went to work as a nurse when she was 17, soon met Pop, and they married by the time she was 19, and had my Mum when she was 20, followed rapidly by my Auntie and Uncle. They lived in rental houses most of their life, but bought a beach shack north of Hobart as Pop neared retirement - they moved into their first fully owned home when they were retired. They moved back to Hobart recently, when it became apparent they were too far away for ambulances to reach them in time if something went wrong.

I didn't get to see my Nanna that often, as I grew up interstate. However, she always loved me unconditionally, was kind and loving, and I know she thought of me often. Nanna had such a difficult childhood, yet became the loving matriarch of 3 children, 7 grand-children, and 9 great-grandchildren, and she remembered every birthday! I realise now how important that unconditional love is - I am grateful that she was able to give my own mother such a loving foundation to her life, with flow-on benefits to me and my family.

23 July 2007

The big things in life

I find myself thinking a lot of the past at the moment - in fact have done this a lot since having a baby. Suddenly my family history, the stories of what came before me and what happened when I was too young to remember are becoming important. When in this mode, I'll just be standing there waiting for the kettle to boil, and faces from my past flash before me - people I haven't seen in years. The memories aren't tinged with longing or upset or undue happiness - they just are. It's been a necessary and helpful time of review, but even so, I think I need to do more thinking of the present, and have just decided to work on that.

But first, there are two things looming that are forcing particular memories of my Father and my Nanna (Mum's Mum) to bounce around in my head:

The first looming thing is my Dad's 60th, and that I decided to write a speech for my brother and I to read out at his party later on in the year. Was chatting to my bro yesterday, and having lived overseas for over 12 years now, I was interested to find he partitions a lot of his memories of growing up as ancient history. I have had an almost equivalent moving out and moving away, but have a continuum of memories of my dad, starting off as a caring and fun Dad as a young child, evolving to a slightly dorky alien during teenagerhood, to a good friend from my late teens until now. I suppose the difference is that living in the same city or country allows weekly contact, whereas moving overseas in the mid-90's was a big barrier to communication when we weren't emailing, phoning, or skyping as much as we do now.

The other thing that has loomed rapidly over the weekend is that my Nanna had a fall, and they found out when she went to hospital that she has serious liver problems, and septicaemia (all-over infection in blood). She's now in an induced coma, and having surgery this afternoon to remove a large cyst on her liver. Mum has flown interstate to be with her Dad, and everyone is "on standby", as she may not survive surgery. My thoughts are mostly with my Mum, and my Pop who has lived a symbiotic relationship with Nanna for 58 years, one of the few truly long and happy marriages I have known. All the things Mum told me about her upbringing are floating about in vacant moments...

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In a similar vein to above - I'm someone with a long memory, and a good memory for faces. There are some people I've met and re-met, with me remembering each time, and me apparently being new to them each time! Young people, not people with alzheimers either! I often used to think that I must have made such a small impression on them that they forgot me each time. Now I can give my battered self esteem a rest, and tell myself it is more than likely just that they suffer from face blindness.

Plug for food additives intolerance lobby group

The Fed Up With Food Additives site is the only lobby group I know lobbying for food companies and regulators to reduce the amount of additives to food. When a food company changes the ingredients of their product so that it includes a nasty additive, they write to them and request a re-think. They help people by recommending an elimination diet to determine if you have food/additive intolerances: you remove all problematic food additives, and also certain natural foods from your diet for 3-6 weeks and have a diet from blandville. Then gradually, you test your system by adding things one at a time.

I can't say for sure that the science in their fact sheets is ridgey didge, but a lot of people have a wide range of symptoms, try everything over the years (regular doctors and pharmaceuticals, chinese medicine, naturopathy, aromatherapy, avoiding dairy etc etc), find they don't get better, but find this diet helps them. I also know for a fact that we eat a lot more processed food than we used to, AND on top of that, the powerful and rich food industry has managed to get a lot of preservatives/colours/flavour enhancers introduced via the food authorities in the past 50 years. That's just over a generation in our long evolution of bombarding our systems with things we didn't use to, just so things can last longer on the shelves, be brighter-coloured, or be morishly tastier so you want to go back for more. I also suspect that the food authorities, like many areas of science in this country, don't have much of a budget for independent research, so rely on food industry money - so you can guess at how independent research on food additives is.

So next time you are about to buy something with a use-by date of a year in the future, or a lime drink that uses blue and yellow food dye to achieve an unrealistic bright green colour, think twice about what is going into your body...

21 July 2007

Sock fetish

I know ladies are supposed to have shoe fetishes, but I have never been more fond of shoes than I am of any other type of apparel. And because of my slightly wider than average feet, the need to wear orthotics and "good calves" as I was once told I had, I do prefer to wear chunkier shoes (e.g. mary janes, clompy boots etc), and when daintier shoes are in fashion, I don't tend to be buying.

And I think I'm just resigning myself to the fact that I will never be someone with style. I'd like to, but can't be bothered putting the time or money into it. I envy those who always look immaculate and stylish, but much of the time would rather wear comfortable shoes (literally), jeans and t-shirt. Which is much more practical for a mum anyway. I actually am quite restrained when it comes to spending money on clothes. And I also see clothes or accept hand-me-downs that I like because they look warm and comfy, and tell myself they'd be good to wear around the house - but then I end up with a disproportionate amount of a wardrobe that is suitable only for around the house or nipping out to buy milk from the corner store.

Over the years, I've gotten better at finding clothes that suit, but have my own standards I rarely deviate from no matter what the season's fashion is. I like patterned skirts, and like the idea of brightly patterned sundresses, but can never find ones I like and don't cost a fortune (and have never suceeded in sewing something from a pattern that fits). And I have strange hankerings for things like pink corduroy jeans. I'm sure you note these were never in fashion, but I wanted some. I was thrilled to find that the new t@rget near my house stocked them, and bought some; then I lost weight, and they are too big, but that's another matter entirely.

And I like socks, it seems. Don't get me wrong - I don't buy socks all the time, it wouldn't be worth it as I don't wear them every day, I only need about 10 pairs in total, and it takes forever for me to wear them out. But I'm a sucker for slightly novel socks. I see a new range of cotton explorer socks in stripey blue and want them. I was excited by the lavendar scented socks my mother-in-law bought me for mother's day. I see the laundromat near my house advertise that they sell socks and stop for a few minutes to investigate. I could expand this sock fetish into patterned tights, but don't let myself, as I don't look good in short skirts anyway.

What a dag!

hearty soup-ville

I checked out the only butcher left in my area a few months ago, as it's near where I take E-chan for playgroup. You know the sort of place: small multicoloured 60's tiles on the floor, those long multicoloured plastic strips blowing out in the doorway. The meat is not quite your usual range - distinctly Eastern-European. Lots of salami-like sausages, loaded with paprika, and things like speck, and other preserved pork products I can't name. Things at this butcher are sold as what they are. For example, "lamb" is only lamb in the springtime - at other times of year they have other names such as "yearling" or "mutton". I like buying meat here much better than the plastic and polystyrene packaged stuff at the supermarket - before, I didn't have the time to make separate trips to the butcher, but now I can so I do.

It's run by people who are from (the former republic of) Yugoslavia. There are always 3 people running the shop, and I suspect it is a family business - two men in their 50's at least, and an older lady - thick, dark rimmed glasses, and hair that you know is grey but dyed black and tied back in a bouffant bun. The men are nice and friendly, but the lady has "character" - once when I was there, a very old man was trying to buy some speck/prosciutto/preserved pork product, which was kept a couple of metres away behind the counter. He asked to see it (probably because his eyesight was not too good and he wanted to make sure he was buying the right thing). But the shop lady took great offence: "It's fresh, I tell you! You don't need to see it!" in thickly accented English. She proceeded to argue with him about this for a minute or two (E-chan found this very funny, and so did I!), then he eventually agreed to buy some. Funny - usually if someone is this pushy with me in shops, I get out of there as soon as I can and get what I need somewhere else. But from this lady, it was like my Grandma telling me what's best for me, with pursed lips insisting that breakfast was the most important meal of the day when I was a teenager and being a bit funny about eating breakfast*, and eventually winning me over with her amazing home-made raspberry jam on toast.

So anyway, I went to the butcher and saw bacon hocks! "Mmmm, hearty soups" went my brain and stomach simultaneously. I make 2 different soups with bacon hocks: Pea and Ham, and a regional Italian variation of Minestrone that I saw on "The cook and the chef" - I don't usually put meat in minestrone, but this sounded nice. And the little tacker loves them too!

Pea and Ham soup (from Stephanie Alexander's cook's companion)

1 bacon hock (or bacon bones to equivalent size)
1 large onion
3 cloves garlic
2 small carrots
(my nb Could also add a stalk of celery)
4-500 g split peas
sprig thyme (I've never had this handy, so haven't used)
Bay leaf ( " " " " " " )
3 L water
Pepper (no salt needed - bacon salted enough)

Throw all ingredients in pot. Bring to boil then decrease to simmer, with lid on slightly ajar, for 1 1/2 hours. Remove bones, blend soup until smooth, then carve off meat into small bite sized chunks. Throw meat back in soup, reheat if necessary, then serve with crusty bread.

Minestrone variation
Use a tin of borlotti beans, or soak equivalent amount of dry beans overnight.
Throw in large pot with some chopped onion and bacon hock and cook for an hour or so, until beans are getting tender. Take out bacon hock and strain the beans. Keep stock for later. Cut meat off bone and reserve.

Meanwhile...
Chop large handfuls of chopped veges into bite sized pieces, e.g.
Onion, Garlic, carrot, zucchini, tomatoes (no more than 2), celery, cabbage, peas, green beans (if using frozen, reserve until the last 5 minutes of cooking). Leave half of a carrot unchopped and a small potato cut in half.

Fry oniony veges in butter, then add celery and carrot, then the remaining veges, and borlotti beans. Add cold water at first then make up volume with stock to taste. Simmer with lid on or off depending on how much liquid there is. When potato and large bit of carrot are cooked, remove them, with a bit of liquid and bits of some of the other veges and puree (I use stab blender). Incorporate with rest of soup. Add bacon meat, and your choice of pasta and cook until pasta is ready (I like the little star shaped pasta that B@rilla make, but small shells or spirals are good.

Serve with parmesan cheese, a bit of drizzled olive oil, and crusty bread. (or you can make the whole thing without Bacon hock - just cook borlotti or even black eyed beans in vege stock and do everything else the same).


* Now I am such an enthusiastic eater I can't for the life of me understand what all the fuss was about!!

18 July 2007

Oot and aboot and enjoying the sunny weather!!

Gender identity in one year olds

Sometime in the past couple of months, our little boy has started to identify more with men and boys. He's aware that his body is not like mine. I'm not sure how much of that is due to going into women's changerooms with me and men's changerooms with his dad when we go swimming. I had a bath with him a month or so ago for the first time in a while (his and my bath times haven't been converging that often), and he spent a bit of time pointing at my bits as if to say "hey there's no willy there!" and "you've got those two lumps there!" (he hasn't had a breastfeed for over 5 months now).

So here's who E-chan hangs out with: that's 2 days a week with me, 3 days a week at child care, every weekday morning and most weekday nights he sees his dad (and me), and then he has all weekend with both of us. I can honestly say that E-chan's Dad and I are equal in the division of parenting "tasks" and time when we are both around. Due to the fact that we're geographically isolated from our family, he spends more time with some of our friends than he does with his grandparents. Most weeks I'll catch up with other mums and bubs at a playgroup, in the park or at each other's places. The child care centre he goes to is staffed entirely by women. In fact, I know of only 3 childcare centres in the inner west of Sydney that have one male child care worker (and I know at least 20 mums in the region, mostly with kids in different centres). So it's not entirely suprising that when C-chan goes in to pick up E-chan from child care, he usually ends up with a throng of baby boys around his ankles.

So I suppose what I'm saying above is that he's not exactly deprived of male contact, but most of his male contact is with his Dad. I've started noticing lately that whenever I'm in a waiting room (weekly at the moment for my allergy shots), E-chan will happily play away with whoever is there, but he will make a special point of trying to make eye contact at "chat" with adult males. On Monday in the park, there were 2 older boys (around 7-9 years old), and Ethan spent a lot of time watching them play, and giggling along as if he wanted to join in. He can tell who is a girl and who is a boy. Don't get me wrong - he's not a total bloke, he does like playing with women and girls, and any kid I have is going to have the opportunity to play with girls and boys and non-gender-stereotypical toys. All I'm saying is his sense of gender is well formed already, and he's eyes are open wide looking for multiple male role models.

16 July 2007

I'll meet you at the cemetary gates

Went for a wander inside the Newtown cemetary last Thursday to kill some time before meeting up with someone. Was suprised to find it busier inside the cemetary walls than on the outside, where people walk their dogs, kids play in the playground, some read books in the sun, some are just passing through, and others covertly sip bottles wrapped in brown paper bags.

Inside the cemetary, there was a film crew. I don't know what they were filming - didn't ask - but bets are a film clip or possibly a short film. There were too many nice cars parked there for it to be a student project, but that was my first guess. Through the trees, I could see a lady dressed all in black, with four black trails being held out from her dress like a satanic maypole. Smoke machines spewed bursts of grey, to make it look misty. Goulish looking guys in ill fitting, hired suits darted back and forth on errands to the shops. I met a pair of gothy young lovers looking at graves and asked "are you with the shoot?", but no they weren't - don't know why I assumed that in a cemetary! After all, there was another group of goths hanging out in one of the corners of the cemetary.

The cemetary is beautiful inside with lots of tall shadey trees, and long green grass growing around the gravestones following the recent rain. All of the headstones that I understand were taken from the rest of the cemetary before it was reclaimed as the park line the inside of the cemetary wall. There is a little jutting out bit in the wall that holds a memorial to a ship that wrecked over 150 years ago, including a large anchor and some headstones of the ship's crew. I looked around for the oldest headstone I could find, and 1853 won the yellow guernsey.

Finally, I encountered a wheelchaired man, taking his old labrador for a walk. We exchanged tips on good walks - perfect for entertaining the bored baby (in my case) and exercising pets (in his). Turns out his mother is on the church board, and he knows more than average about the cemetary. It's recently received a grant to help with maintenance; a tree recently fell down; it's great for little kids to run around (I'll store that in my memory for a few month's time). Finally my questions exhausted his knowledge - no there wasn't a book written about the history of this place, or even on the area in general, but perhaps I could find out more if I do a tour. They're on once a month.

Might just do that.

13 July 2007

Photos of the 'hood!

This is an image that sprung up all over fences and walls in our area for a little while. Reminds me of animated films by Miyazaki - the Japanese director of "Spirited Away" and "My Neighbour Totoro" - which tend to have beautiful, sad giant monsters that appear only to the main children characters.

I'm amazed at how brackeny things, moss and grass can grow out of walls... but trees? Hadn't seen that before.

The photo below is a stencil of a monster from "where the wild things are" with the head of the AU$100 note stuck on top, with words from the same book. Photo compliments of Min (one of my suburb-roaming mum friends), as by the time I got around to taking a photo of this, someone had graffiti'd over it!

08 July 2007

Wimpy immune system, get some muscle!!

For some reason, Blogger won't let me type in my post title. Anyhow that's irrelevant.

My immune system and I aren't talking as of now. I have caught my second cold in about a month. My son has had 3 colds since starting child care, which I kind of expected but had perhaps unrealistically hoped he had my Mother's robust constitution, innately. My immune system, which I used to be able to boast would withstand colds that C-chan would succumb to (yeah, go me!), has packed up and gone on holiday somewhere no doubt with palm trees and daily maxima in the high twenties, while I linger on in Sydney's coldest months (which really isn't cold at all, but you acclimatise the longer you live in a place, don't you?). I'm hoping it is getting lots of exercise and rest and staying in a health farm, ready to come back and work for me.

In addition, I have a subcutaneous lump the size of a 10c piece on my right arm right where my dust mite injection was... well injected... 4 days ago. The pollen injection reaction isn't as bad, apparently.

Hmph!

05 July 2007

who knows where the tiiiiime goes??**

Life is ticking along, with lots to do, people to see and time to sit down and write posts are rare. Work is still going OK, but working part time is always hectic. I think I'm more efficient that I ever used to be. Boss is still OK, even though I hear occasionally about things that others don't like about her. I understand their points, but I reckon I've had or seen worse over the years. I enjoy working with someone who communicates in a straightforward way. I'd rather be given rapid feedback (I'm a big girl, I can take it) than never know where I stand because my boss's only response is "that's good" whilst doodling on their notepad. And I think it is a BIG plus that she is understanding about being a parent due to having had 3 of her own and recently become a grandma of a girl a few months older than E-chan.


Speaking of babies, another friend, who worked with me in the fruit, nut and vege days, has discovered she is pregnant (yay!), which is lovely news, and 2 ladies at work told me on a tipsy ladies night out that they are trying to conceive (TTC) or thinking about it soon. Ahh baby booms. I still maintain that it has little to do with our Treasurers' baby bonus. My statistitian friend in Canberra may know better if she's ever had a look at birth data, but I reckon the baby boom can be explained simply by the fact that a majority of the baby boomer's kids (ie our generation) are reaching their 30's and some level of financial stability at the same time.


E-chan is standing up all the time - I just took him to the park this morning, and he crawled everywhere and climbed up to a stand. He can stay standing for 5 or so minutes at a time, has discovered the video, and is getting over his fear of the vacuum cleaner*. Brave Boy!

I've had 2 weeks of dustmite and grass pollen injections. First week was fine, this week was a doubled dose (it increases each time), and I had quite itchy arms all day yesterday. BUT I resisted scratching. 13 to go, then monthly maintenance doses for a year or two.

And finally, C-chan gets admitted as a Solicitor tomorrow (nothing to do with prostitution, I assure you). Due to the big anticlimactic back injury around his graduation day last year, we are making a bit of a fuss this time. His folks are coming to stay for a few days (yay, baby sitters!), and we may even take E-chan out to dinner or a late lunch somewhere. C-chan has been ultracareful with his back, even though we've had a sick baby who's required lots of extra bending and picking up in the middle of the night, and he has been religiously going along to his pilates session every week.

* some might say that it has something to do with the fact that we rarely vacuum. I actually think it has more to do with... the noise... er herm!

** Judy Collins? I'll have to check our daggy vinyl collection to see if I'm right. By the way I'm not copying Seagreen by title-ing posts with song lyrics. I've always done that, and it's my fallback for when I'm too lazy to think up something of my own.