In the 90s, when disco was dead, I went into my classical music phase. It was also the time I had my first baby. That was a difficult time and a difficult pregnancy. I listened to quite a bit of classical music when I was pregnant, and because I was new to it, I chose a few old standards. One of my favourite pieces was/is Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. I particularly liked “Winter”. It is like four seasons in one.
I had my baby during winter. That seems quite ironic to me now. I didn’t listen to much music after the birth. I was too exhausted. Too depressed. Perhaps I’ll write about that one day. About four months after I had the baby, I went to the mall with my mother and my little boy. We went into a shop and were browsing when Vivaldi’s Four Seasons came on. My son started waving his arms in time with the music. My mother and I were stunned. The shop assistants came over too to see this young baby conducting to the music. It was “Winter”.
After all that time, he had remembered. I wonder if this is why he likes classical music so much and once considered a career as a classical musician. That career path didn’t come to fruition, but it did extend my classical music phase for about 20 years.
Ready for some conducting?
Sarah at Art Expedition is hosting 30 Days, 30 Songs for the month of June. You can see her latest post here. It is not too late to join in the challenge. Casual players welcome.
In the interests of posting more flower photos and sharing memories, I present to you some rose photos.
I have four lovely rose bushes at my house. All but one was given to us. One by our mum/mum-in-law — a treasured possession. Friends gave us another (Homage to Barbara) when she (the mother-in-law, not the friend) died. Ever practical, like the woman herself, the flower heads just drop off when they are done. Barb would have appreciated the joke. The third rose was also given to us by a friend. It was one of the roses planted in the Rose Gardens at Old Parliament House (Canberra), but it was culled from the garden to make way for more healthy stock. Their loss, our gain, don’t you think? Read more
I come from a long line of procrastinators. It is kind of genetic. There is always a tension about what constitutes over-sharing and yet it is apparently important to speak up about mental health issues, despite the discrimination this induces. I’ve always had problems concentrating and getting started. Organisation is not my forté. I’m not sure whether anyone noticed. Girls are good at hiding that stuff. Plus I was kind of smart and I had compensation strategies that got me by. I got through my first degree somehow (burning the midnight oil and eating a lot of chocolate). I got a job in the government and worked my way through some of the ranks (burning the midnight oil and eating a lot of chocolate).
I was the Taskforce queen. I could pull it out of a hat when deadlines were tight (it takes a lot of adrenaline to get my mind out of first gear). Routine jobs? Tedious and stressful (probably because they involved organisational skills that I did not possess). I live in nuance, and that is often an uncomfortable place to be for a policy adviser. (I do have some sympathy for our former prime minister who was constantly being criticised because he couldn’t give a simple answer.) It is hard to sum up complex policy considerations in three talking points. Still I managed, because you know, hard work. It is the solution to everything, right? At least that is what I thought.
Trigger warning. This post contains material that may distress some readers.Read more
The road through Bullen’s African Lion Safari was long and winding, really excellent for motion sickness. But the good thing about the park was that the population density of lions to humans was high, or so it appeared to this seven year old girl. Prey you make it out alive. Read more
Do you ever wonder how you survived your childhood? This is a question I ask myself frequently. Sometimes I think we survive in spite of our parents, rather than because of them. [Note to mum. Just joking.] Let me tell you the story about the day my family was nearly eaten by lions. Read more
Today’s word prompt from Margaret of the Ragtag Community is crepuscule, meaning twilight. It may be because I’m getting older that twilight for me symbolises the last days of life — my life or possibly life as we know it. Read more
This is my response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt of Saturday, 21 July 2018 — Duck.
I’m very sad to say that for most of my children’s lives, we had neither the money, time or energy to go on holiday together. Certainly, my husband and I rarely had holidays together as we took turns to take time off work to look after the children during the school holidays. The lack of family holidays is one of my biggest regrets in life. A few years ago, my husband and the boys went on a road trip around Victoria (Australia). I stayed home (with flu), and sent my little ducklings off with their dad on a great adventure. Read more
This is a true story about finding a new community and about re-connecting with loved ones. It is also yet another story about me growing wiser, as well as, coincidentally, a story about hunting virtual creatures.