Luminous Heart’s Neighborhood

Dear Ms Hairdresser

Dear Ms Hairdresser,

        A little numerical work on the fingers has confirmed that you have been styling my hair for almost 7 years. I think that 7 years is entirely enough time to mutual agreement that, Yes, my hair does grow quickly and Yes, my hair is  very thick. So do we really have to go through the routine every time I am in your salon? I am really tired of being made to feel as though I am a freak from a sideshow with a social disease because my hair is thick and full of body and bounce.

       I also object to your inference that you are doing me some gigantic favour by taming my wayward locks. I am not going to thank you for performing some sort of miracle in the name of communty spirit. It is a hair cut, and I pay you.  I pay you very well.

      I am a grown woman. I am intelligent. I don't think that I should be expected to gush and squeal when you flourish a mirror at the end to show me the back of my own head.  It is not brain surgery. I think that you do a fine job - otherwise I would not have been your client for  7 years, though once or twice I have thought that perhaps you could snip a little more off the length, or flourish the blades to thin my hair just a little more and assist me in actually making it 6 weeks to my next cut, without looking like an English Sheepdog. I understand though, as I know most women fear a bad hair cut - for me it only takes a week for it to grow over!

       So, unless you want me to get a severe case of the 7 year itch and move onto new scissors, may I suggest that you SHUT UP about my hair's rate of growth and density, or run the risk of me tearing that pair of scissors from your hands and thrusting them into your heart before I leave your pretentious hair salon in search of hair understanding.

Yours most earnestly

FD.

[yes, I did get my hair cut today. I am exhausted from pretending to be nice and holding my true nature in behind a facade of politness. I am glad that I don't have to go out more.] 

I have 67 kg (148lbs) of photos to get back to DC which somewhat exceeds my United baggage allowance even if I leave all my clothes behind.   I've had these stored in my son's garage but now that he has a wife she will be moving in with her own "stuff".  It's time for me to get these so that I can scan/preserve them.

So ...  research was required.  First I tried Australia Post which is how I got my worldly possessions to America nearly 10 years ago. The lady told me in 3 minutes that it would cost an exorbitant.1,228.30.$$$$   - though she didn't actually use the word "exorbitant" - she had a tone that suggested I was getting such a bargain that I should race home pack them up and get back in time to catch the last post of the day.

I had actually saved up and budgeted an amount of $1,000 for this exercise but I was not really expecting to have to use it all.

I had seen an advertisement for Fed Ex International Economy so I rang Lawrence in India and had a nice conversation where he used my name a lot as well as "that's a good question Emjay, I can tell you the answer"... After 10 or 15 minutes Lawrence decided that Economy service was not going to work for me and that actually the 25kg flat rate boxes sent at Priority service would be cheaper (apparently the economy service just means it takes longer to get there!). 
 

So ...  today they will start their journey to the manservant's office and the cost of getting them there in about 3 days will be less than $800..    (FYI: Oz Post could send them by sea for about $650 but I've seen those statistics on how many containers go overboard every year...).   

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The landscape got a little greener as we headed towards the Hunter Valley...

This little church was in the middle of nowhere ( I love the "outhouse"):

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A few of the very small towns have these fancy big signs:

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This place thinks it is in the Mediterranean - these are all olive trees:

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true love

The Sixth Day of Christmas - December 30th

Geese are migratory birds and so in the past have been regarded as symbols of the solar year, and also as symbols of fertility. Ancient Egyptians held the belief that the souls of the dead rose up in the form of a goose with a human head. Juno, the Roman Goddess of heaven and marriage, held the goose as sacred. The geese in the temple of Juno on the Capitoline were said by Livy to have saved Rome from the Gauls around 390 BC when they were disturbed in a night attack. The story may be an attempt to explain the origin of the sacred flock of geese at Rome.

Geese were amongst the first fowl to be domesticated. Hey, wouldn’t you rather go to the pen and gather eggs or a goose rather than hunt predator animals far and wide? No brainer! Geese became a common barnyard fowl in England, and  as your true loves appears to have a fowl fetish,  it is natural that geese were included in the Twelve Days gift list.. Geese also mate for life so your true love is really sending home his message of unending love. Your true love is however giving you six female geese, laying eggs, so make your own meaning there!

Following religious tradition six geese a-laying refers to the six days of creation.

Day 1: Light and Darkness

Day 2: Heaven

Day 3: Earth, Seas, Vegetation

Day 4: Sun, Moon, Stars

Day 5: Fish, Birds

Day 6: Animals and Humankind to rule over them

Genesis 1:1-30

Cooked goose? See Australian Maggie Beer’s recipe http://www.cuisine.com.au/recipe/roast-goose-with-apple-onion-and-sage-stuffing

Well the plan for today had a major upset.

Mainly me finding myself at the hospital at 9am hooked up to the ECG machine thinking I was having a heart attack.

I thought I was having a heart attack yesterday morning. About ten minutes into my morning treadmill session. But as usual you tell yourself you're being ridiculous and it seemed to get better pretty quickly anyway.

Then this morning I thought I'd just walk on the treadmill. All went well until I finished and got in the shower. Then I had the most terrible gripping chest pains.

So I had an aspirin and went and lay on the bed. Then after five minutes I had two quick-eze and went back to bed. After ten minutes I put on my shoes and a bit of blush. And after twenty minutes I rang Daz and said, if you're close by can you come and take me to the hospital.

So I walked in and said to the desk lady - do I have to see you before I see a nurse. And she said - yes, just wait a minute and went back to her phone call. And after a bit I said - its chest pains, leaning on her desk and gripping my chest.

So nice nurse came and got me and put an oxygen mask on me, slipped a pill under my tongue and wanted to give me an aspirin but I told her I'd had one. Then she hooked me up to the machine and mixed me a not terribly pleasant drink of mylanta mixed with pink anaesthetic.

Doctor came and YAY - no heart attack. Some wobbly bit on the graph but apparently nothing important.

So he tells me maybe its gallstones or a stomach ulcer. I said what gives you gallstones. And he said too much of that fatty rich food we all eat too much of. Are you kidding I said, I've just lost 8 kilos, I haven't eaten a piece of fat for months. So I didn't really think it was gallstones, because I googled it and it didn't feel like that anyway.

But it still meant an hours drive to the ultrasound place to have the pesky gall looked at. But YAY no gallstones.

So now I'm taking a course of tablets for 6 days for stomach ulcers. I don't think its that either really.

Stomach ulcer doesn't bode well for Thailand food. Better though than a heart attack I have to say. Or gallstones.

He tells me that sometimes the body just has strange pains. I have to see him on Thursday for a final check over. But there will be no exercising again before we go.

Its been a tiring kind of day. And now I'm going to end it with Lizzies school presentation night. A long night in a hot hall full of women wearing way too much perfume, and watching a lot of kids I have no interest in getting their awards. Until we get to the important one. Lizzies. And she's last because she's in the highest year.

No rest for mothers. Can't even have a suspected heart attack and get a night off the job.

Tuskegee Airman: The Biography of Charles E. McGee, Air Force Fighter Combat Record Holder

Charlene E. McGee Smith

Sometimes I wonder if God uses me as a vessel to do something for him. I always try to approach everyone I meet even enemies with kindness and love. I'm thankful for the wonderful opportunities I have had to *bump* into some amazing individuals. 

On Monday nights I attend classes for The Bradley Method with my sister. She has asked me to be her co-coach at her birth.

This is incredibly exciting to me for a multitude of reasons, but mainly because this is my sister, and because it will be my first live birth as a doula-in-training.

I'm overjoyed. I am also finding that my education in anatomy and childbirth really comes in handy for this class, and I'm enjoying it on a different level.

I was first introduced to The Bradley Method by my neighbor maura_ea here on Vox as she prepared for the birth of her daughter earlier this year. I was pleased- and shocked- when my high-maintenance big sis started talking- and quite passionately- about natural childbirth, and was tickled when she decided on Bradley Method for her childbirth classes. More than likely I will get to use this class towards my DONA certification.

Her husband- my brother in nearly all respects, really- had an unfortunate change in work schedule that will no longer allow him to attend the classes with us. As a deputy of the sherriff's department, he really doesn't get a choice. We're all sad about it. But I'm glad my sister will have someone there who loves and supports her that will also be there for the birth.

Also, taking this class makes me want to get pregnant. I can't wait for the day that I have empowering experience of giving birth.

But I will wait awhile longer, because I get to be an auntie first!

the Happiest time of the year

I was watching a Christmas movie on Hallmark last night. Henry Winkler was the wise fun uncle who comes to stay for Christmas and  collects a handsome stranger at the airport, who of course falls in love with the uptight, corporate niece with the oh so cute kid.  I had one of those happy inane smiles on my face that you get when you watch a happy inane fluffy romantic comedy Christmas movie.

Mr FD must have been stunned by the sight of a smile upon my face – the first in a few days probably. He must have thought I had some secret supply somewhere and not sharing, so sat down and started to watch the movie with me. In the hope I would share no doubt. It wasn’t long before he was getting annoyed at the “bad guy” fiancé, who was boring and rich and distant and controlling, and cheering for the handsome stranger.

Just after the bad guy manipulates the good guy out of the picture and the wise uncle is telling uptight, list making girl to throw caution aside and run after the good guy, the cable station had some sort of break down. The frame just froze. It was the network’s problem and after a few minutes in which we imagined the lone person at the cable station , drinking coffee in the staff room, realising that the movie had frozen and running down the dark empty corridors to flick a switch, the channel when into an endless string of commercials.

Mr FD became quite distraught – how were we ever going to know what happened next? I said , relax, she will chase after him to the airport, but will not be able to find him and just as she is leaving he will appear from somewhere and all will be well.

No, not good enough for my man. He is obviously not going to sleep until he knows the outcome. I said, look even when it comes on again, they will skip a chunk to make up for lost time. I know the ways of this world, yes I do!

His eyes were like deer in the headlights. I could almost see and hear his mouth forming the word “NNNNOOOOOOOO!”. The man was in serious suffering.

The movie eventually came on, and yes they had leapt a chunk, but we got to see the scene where she is leaving the airport and he sees her retreating and calls out to her. Segway to car returning home and good guy running out of the car to embrace cute kid. Closing scene he and she kiss as the door closes. Sweet.

Mr FD was somewhat mollified, but the missing minutes of the storyline really upset him.  I think he went to bed a little empty.

This morning the #$@$#$%#$%@$#$^% parrots woke be at 5am, chirping away in the trees outside our bedroom, so I gave up the thought of sleep and came downstairs for a tea and one of the coffee muffins I made last night. I flipped on the television and LO! the movie was on replay and I was able to catch up on the missing storyline (I won’t tell in case you are yet to watch!). When Mr FD came downstairs I was able to relate the details to him. Oh happy day, he regained his happy glow.

It really doesn’t take much to keep a Mr FD happy. Perhaps you should buy one sometime. I got the family size.

perhaps not so much bling

Our sixteenth century ancestors used the shortened term ring to describe a ring-necked pheasant as well as jewellery for their fingers. Let us hope that your true love realises that you have enough feathered gifts to stuff a doona and opts for the finger bling!

Pheasants are native of Asia, but were introduced to Europe, and later America, where they were released into the wild and thrived in the new habitat. According to many accounts Alexander the Great brought pheasant to Greece following his conquests in Asia. Later, the Romans, having conquered Greece and the surrounding areas, introduced the birds to Western Europe. Old legends, popular in the middle ages, tell of Jason and the Argonauts bringing back golden birds. It didn't take long for people to conclude that the ring-necked pheasants were a sub-species of these golden birds and from Roman times onward the eating of pheasants was reserved for royalty.

For those following it more religiously then the five golden rings represent The first Five Books of the Old Testament, known as the Torah, or the Pentateuch: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus,  Numbers, and Deuteronomy. The fifth day of Christmas, December 29^th  is also the feast of St. Thomas Becket.

So the tally for the fifth day of Christmas:

Five golden rings,

Four collie birds,

Three French hens,

Two turtle doves,

And a partridge in a pear tree.

That is a lot of bird action - hope you are not allergic!