Luminous Heart’s Neighborhood

Washing day at W. H. Corkhill's home Marengo, with Gertrude McKern and Maude Bate aust

When I had a Monday-Friday job, Saturday was naturally laundry day. Every week I would have to ask Mr FD to carry the laundry hamper downstairs for me, as it was often too heavy for my back. May I repeat, EVERY Saturday I had to ASK Mr FD to bring down the laundry hamper from our bathroom.

Now, I don't have a Monday to Friday routine, and I do laundry during the week, trying to leave the weekends free. You know, just in case the last threads of our sanity tear and we give in to spontaneity, heaven forbid!

NOW that I no longer do laundry on a Saturday, every Saturday without fail, WITHOUT A REQUEST, Mr FD brings down the laundry hamper and places it with pride in the middle of our small laundry. It sits there like a dog poop on your priceless heirloom rug. I say nothing, trying to ignore it, but oddly enough it makes me want to rip his throat out.

I do not do the laundry. It sits there until the day I do, in the meantime, our dirty clothes mount up on the floor of our bathroom. I prefer not to say anything as when I am back in the work force I will no doubt want him to bring that damn laundry hamper down each and every Saturday again.

I just want to know - does he know what he is doing? Is he playing games with me - stirring the lizard he calls it. Passive aggressive games of marriage...sigh. Or did he just finally get the message through his damn thick skull and is now probably wondering why I am not postulating myself at his feet in gratitude?

Is it him, or is it me? I know, it's him. It is always him. 

OK so we're having our first party tomorrow night. It kind of happened by accident: a good friend of ours is headed back to Tokyo for the holidays and will miss another mutual friend's Christmas party in two weeks, so I said "Oh, we should have a party for you before you go" and suddenly, that's what was happening. Then she invited some other mutual friends and I invited a couple of people and now it's a party. It's not dinner (we have no dining room table yet) but we're going to get some snacks, get a Christmas tree and some wine, and just decorate our tree, drink, snack and hang out. Should be fun, but I have to admit that I'm a little nervous. Our house is FAR from done but it's definitely coming along. We haven't ever had more than two people over to our place, even in our old place. So it will be a new experience.

merry f'&*ing xmas

My brand new portable hard drive "melted" and the top came off!

Iomega eGo 500 GB pocket drive

We had our first snow of the year last night.  Just a tiny bit, but it did stick to the ground (but not the driveway).  I had an appointment with a nurse (kind of a vampire, really) yesterday and she said many appointments had been cancelled because of the prospect.  Apparently lots of older folks are really fearful about going out in it (although, like I said, nothing happened).

Here is a graph of some of the larger companies.  "Subaru" is Fuji Heavy Industries.  (I wasn't able to clip all the way to the bottom, so some of the smaller manufacturers are not included).

Top motor vehicle manufacturing companies

'HOME SWEET HOME'

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'm sure if Daz had of tried just a little bit harder he could have bought a more difficult wedding present for me to wrap.

Not much harder mind you.

There was a gift registry, he was going to the big smoke, so I said - go and spend about $100.00. And he came home with this weird mish mash of items. He was super impressed with himself because there had been 30% off everything and he was able to get a lot of totally random unrelated items.

I said - couldn't you have just bought one item?

He said - well I could've got the ironing board.

Easier to wrap no doubt, but not as easy to fit in the car.

So I've ignored it for two weeks but the wedding is tomorrow so I had to face up to it today. A lot of sticky tape was used. And I'm not sure a piece of curly silver ribbon is going to make it look better either.

But at least its crap they want.

So this is Emjays son who is getting married. My nephew. It is going to be a huge, long and hot day, that will start with a three hour drive for us to even get there. I'm planning on taking my swimmers to have a splash around in the motel pool between the service and the reception. That will hopefully be followed by a nap. And we have to fit lunch in sometime before the service and all stay clean. Lol, we have to get dressed at 7.30 in the morning, drive three hours in Lloyds old smashed up Magna, eat lunch, go to the service, fill in a few hours, then turn up at the reception still looking clean and fresh.

Don't know what that chances of that are. But it should be a good day and night. Big.

Emjay tells me I should wish for my children to elope.