Conservative catholic or modern secular?

There is an article in my newspaper, Do we really want a leader trapped in a bygone era? (01/10/2011) that is an edited extract from new book Tony Abbott: a man's man by Susan Mitchell.

It is important to remind ourselves that Tony Abbott is a 53-year-old former trainee Catholic priest, a former right-wing student activist, a former Liberal Party staffer, and an MP parachuted by John Howard into a safe Liberal seat. From an early age, he was mentored and trained by older men to become the man he is today - a product of a bygone era. Most of his ideas have been formed by men in all-male institutions or mostly male environments.

Can we believe in his political separation between church and state when Abbott boasted that eight Catholics in the Howard cabinet had overturned the Northern Territory's euthanasia law, buried gay marriage, stopped the ACT heroin safe injecting-rooms trial, and tried to reduce abortion numbers through pregnancy-support counselling that was openly anti-abortion?

When asked about the problem of businesses paying women an average 16 per cent less than they pay men in the same job, Abbott admitted that he was unaware that there was still a problem. When asked how he would get more women into politics, he said he did not have a solution.

Even though he is married with three daughters, he freely admits he has been mostly absent from the housework and child-rearing. Is it any wonder that he has no understanding of what Australian women, more than 50 per cent of the population, expect or need from a potential prime minister of their country?

The social and historic changes of the 1960s and 1970s have become firmly fixed in the social fabric of the nation - particularly those changes that affect the lives of women. What Abbott never understood, and still fails to understand today, is that a belief in a woman's right to make choices about her own body, and the belief that everyone has the right to equality despite their gender and sexuality, are not merely ''fashionable'' causes.

These rights are enshrined in legislation, and have been since the 1970s. They will not change, like the length of women's skirts do. To dismiss them alienates him from the women, and many men, who fought so hard in the past and are still fighting to achieve equality and fairness in and out of the workplace.

Women no longer accept that they are not entitled to the same opportunities as men, just as gays are refusing to be treated as second-class citizens, the elderly are agitating for the right to voluntary euthanasia, the young are demanding the development of stem-cell research, and eminent scientists throughout the world are certain that governments have to accept the reality of climate change and take immediate action to reduce carbon pollution or face the tragic consequences.

Abbott, a man of drive, cunning, ambition, and incorrigible determination, is now in a position where he could be leading our country come an election. But what if all his values and beliefs are more suited to the leadership of a conservative, Catholic institution than a modern, secular democracy? What if his attitudes to women are outdated and out of step with what they believe to be true about themselves and their own lives? What if the Australian people want a leader who embraces the future and is not trapped in the past?

The Saturday Age, 01/10/2011

I have long been concerned that Tony Abbott may one day become our Prime Minister. However, even though I personally agree with Susan Mitchell over the statements in this extract, what struck a chord with me was the question regarding a conservative Catholic religion and a modern secular democracy.

Recently I blogged about looking for a primary school for my son. I want to send my children to a local primary school, and we have the choice of either a Catholic or two government primary schools. Ultimately we have decided to enrol him (and later my daughter), in our local government primary school. However, I didn't find this was an easy choice, in fact it almost felt like going against the grain. Allow me to explain.

I have been raised a Catholic. Thirteen years of catholic (all girls) education, a grandmother who is very pious and took it upon herself to teach me the catechism and my husband also had a similar education to mine (although his was all boys) and was an altar boy in his teenage years. Both of us have turned away from the Catholic church, even though, eleven years ago, we were married in one. In fact it's the same church that I received the sacraments (communion and confirmation) and that my husband had served as an altar boy. I don't regret that at all, I have very fond memories of this beautiful bluestone church and it can even be described as a part of me. My son and daughter have been christened at this same church.

This is why, when choosing a school I found it hard to choose something other than catholic. This is why, when reading today Mitchell's words about today's society being modern secular I think my husband and I represent this new society. I had to ask myself, what sort of education do I want my children to have? I certainly don't want it to be dogmatic, one that includes missals and bibles. I want them to question what is around them. I want them to experience things and later on add value to society. I'm not saying that if you're Catholic you can't do all these things, but for me, the church just seems removed. I'm not getting anything out of it. To go to church would be a chore.

But I don't think I'm any less spiritual because of it.

Weighing up both schools, the government primary just seemed to offer more. During our meeting with the school principal, she said that the children at the school seem to be very socially aware, fair-minded, and I liked this. The school seemed to represent a modern secular society, and maybe this is why we chose it, because it meant finally taking that deep breath and actually admitting that this is what our family is. I was brought up as a conservative catholic, but as an adult, I am anything but.

What I've been reading lately....Soulless by Gail Carriger

I think I have a thing for heroines who wield parasols as weapons. This is why I love Amelia Peabody so much and now Alexia Tarabotti, the newest heroine, without a soul, created by author Gail Carriger.

Carriger's book Soulless came to my attention through the literary section of my newspaper. The article talked about Steampunk, and this was the first time I'd ever heard of the term. After some researching, the steampunk genre seemed fascinating so I ended up devising a steampunk reading list. Fast forward to now, and I thought I'd post about this book, as it was such a fun, lighthearted romp, and I can't wait to read the next two books in the series.

I wasn't one of those people who jumped on the vampire and werewolf bandwagon (a la Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series). For some reason Meyer's books didn't appeal to me, and I'm not sure why, as I'm a massive Buffy fan. Maybe after Buffy, there's just no eclipsing it? Anyway, when I initially read that the novel included vampires and werewolves, I hesitated. Then one day, there it was, a paperback copy sitting on the bookshop's shelf, at a good price. Upon perusing, I read, Gail Carriger writes to cope with being raised in obscurity by an expatriate Brit and an incurable curmudgeon. She escaped small town life for Europe and inadvertently acquired an education. She now resides in the Colonies with a harem of Armenian lovers and tea imported from London. I found this author description compelling so I bought the book.

For those who don't know, the Steampunk genre seeks to subvert real history and fictionalise an alternative often set during the Victorian era. The premise of Soulless is that spinster Alexia Tarabotti accidentally kills a vampire and Lord Maccon (a werewolf) is sent by Queen Victoria to investigate. Add to this Victorian social mores, a family that reminded me of the Bennett's and a healthy dose of romance and you have a good backdrop for a story. Alexia is also a strong heroine, and I liked the characters in the book. It's also good if you like corsets and bustles.

Alexia was embarrassed to find that she was reduced to shamefully sneaking out of her own home. It simply would not do to tell her mama she was paying a late-night call on a vampire hive.

Read it if you enjoy Elizabeth Peter's Amelia Peabody series and you want something with a light comedic touch or if all you've been reading lately are those heavy numbers and you need something different.

M M Kaye

I was in year ten at high school (fifteen years old) when we were set an assignment to do book reports. This sort of thing is always my cup of tea and I remember I happily presented on Mary Stewart's Merlin trilogy. Another girl in my class had read M M Kaye's Death in Berlin, and that was the beginning of the beginning.

If you haven't heard of M M Kaye or read any of her books, she wrote six detective novels reminiscent of Agatha Christie, Mary Stewart's mystery novels, Patricia Wentworth and Dorothy L Sayers.

Further to this is what I feel to be a bit of an affinity with M M Kaye, owing to the fact that she was born in India. Although I have lived my entire life in Australia, my background is Sri Lankan, or namely what is called a Burgher. What this (Dutch) term means, is that we Burgher's have Dutch/Portuguese/English ancestry in our blood, due to the fact that Sri Lanka was colonised by said countries. I've also married an Anglo Indian, and upon meeting his grandparents, on a trip many years ago to India, I felt as though I was sitting on some kind of tea plantation back in Colonial times sipping my afternoon tea with a spread of sandwiches etc in front of me. Yep, that's exactly how it was, you would hardly even think we were even in India. But I'm digressing.

I read Death in Berlin first. This was followed by The far pavilions.

To an impressionable young teenager, Kaye's heroes were certainly worthy of falling in love with. As the years went by I'd devoured everything that she had written only to want more. Unfortunately M M Kaye passed away in 2004, so that is not to be.

Every now and then I like to dip back into her detective novels, even though I know whodunit. Her three historical romance novels are probably more in the vein of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. So if you're after someone who writes with that Golden Age touch, M M Kaye comes highly recommended by this Blogger.

What I've been reading lately... Dark Matter

Ooooh I love a good ghost story. And Michelle Paver's Dark Matter doesn't disappoint. I first read about this book in a review in the literary section of my newspaper. It's 1937, and five men set out to research a remote part of the Arctic called Gruhuken. Written in a diary format by explorer Jack, we read about his enthusiasm to be actually doing something that doesn't involve the looming second world war. Cast as the group's Wireless Operator, Jack describes the freezing cold, having to exit the warmth of their hut for polar temperatures and having each day become darker and darker as the inevitable polar night creeps upon them promising months of winter darkness.

Twilight. Behind the bird cliffs, the red glow of dawn, but to the west it was night: the cold glimmer of stars. The black bones of the mountains jutted through the snow. On the shore, the whale ribs glinted with frost, and the rocks sloping down to the sea were white and smooth. The water was dark purple, vivid and strange. Because of the cliffs, we couldn't see much. We saw the sky turn bloody and inflamed as the sun struggled to rise. We saw a sliver of fire. An abortive dawn. The sun sank back, defeated. Gone.


I mostly read this book at night just before bed. Deliciously fine if you're going to turn off your lamp and snuggle down to sleep, knowing that you're safe and sound, not so much if you need to visit the bathroom in an all-sleeping household.

Jack's journal tells us about a menacing presence that appears on the Arctic beach, malevolent, sorrowful and dangerous. My only gripe with this book was the language didn't evoke 1937 to me. The vernacular seemed much more contemporary. But this didn't steal anything away from the book itself.

Sadly (or maybe luckily depending how you look at it) I picked this book up for five bucks at the bookshop that replaced the one that shut down at my local shopping centre. Apparently all books sold there are now going to cost five dollars. So I'm not really going to complain too much if I'm able to pick up great stories for that price. If you like ghost stories definitely one to read.

The morning marathon

I don't know about you, but I am absolutely exhausted by the time I have my kids dressed in the morning. Once their shoes are finally on I feel as though I've been through some marathon type race, and then I have to contemplate actually going out. Where to find the energy?

It all begins over the demands of what breakfast cereal they want. Followed by brushing teeth. I make them take turns as the thought of trying to brush both their teeth together in the bathroom (something my husband does regularly) is just too much for me to bear. Then it's the choosing of clothes and actually getting them to put it on. My daughter has hair brushing next, luckily my son wears his hair very short.

Then it's time to leave for the(insert chosen preference here) park, library, playgroup, zoo etc. I've taken to having morning tea at home. I repeatedly say to myself, wait until you've had your coffee and then you'll be ready. So, it's only then, once the caffeine has hit do I venture anywhere.

Once at a playgroup we attended, one mother confided to me that very morning she'd had a huge face-off showdown with her school aged daughter who wanted to wear a particular pair of shoes to school. Mum had won, so by the time she got to playgroup with her younger son, she was a frazzled wreck. It's not worth it, she said. I should have just given in.

But let me now just commend my two little angels in how they have managed to be ready for me to attend my 8am classes this semester. Luckily for me the daycare does breakfast, so that's taken a huge load off our morning. I awaken at 6am, get myself and my bag ready then proceed to wake them, plonking them both on the couch in front of ABC2. I let them slowly wake up and get their clothes ready. By the time I return to have them brush their teeth, they're both fully awake and excited to begin their day. Dressing seems to be fairly seamless and then it's out the door. I was so worried about how they were going to handle these early mornings, but they've both been fantastic.

Newsworthy

I did it! I managed to read my weekend newspaper, nearly all parts, in one sitting. Granted the children were away visiting their grandfather for the afternoon, thus giving me the chance to burrow myself in all this crackling black and white glory. I love receiving my weekend newspaper, having it sit waiting for me somewhere in my front garden, depending on the aim of its thrower.

Today however, my paper did not arrive. There's nothing worse than going outside, morning coffee already cooling, looking under hedges and over the neighbour's fences just in case the rogue paper has made its way there. No paper. I had to go to the newsagency and actually purchase today's copy. Something I've not done for a long time.

Hands up if you're guilty of leaving your newspaper sitting around, building up with the intent of reading, having them sit forlornly with paper edges curling away? I have. Much to the chagrin of my husband. He always threatens to throw them in the bin and I overreact screaming like a banshee at him. I haven't read my favourite columnists yet! Sometimes the pile builds up so high that I guiltily throw them away myself.

There are only two parts I put straight into the recyling. The sports section and business section. I have no interest in those subjects whatsoever. Depending on what mood I'm in the careers section may also leave our home unopened. I save the actual news part to read over my morning coffee, and I usually intend to read the rest in the afternoon. But who has these afternoons to spare anymore? As I said earlier I only managed it because the children were away and I was severely procrastinating from finishing off an assignment due soon.

So joy of joy, I have finished the papers this weekend. I only attempt the weekend papers. I used to get the whole week delivered, and the pile sitting awaiting me then was indeed formidable. But of course that was pre-children and now I only make time for what matters. The books and arts section of course.

A fairly eclectic bunch

Over the weekend I read about the website, I write like that analyses your writing and compares it to other authors. Of course I couldn't wait to try it out, and the results proved surprising, well at least they did to me.

I analysed several pieces and most of them are on here as blog posts, so if you're interested and can be bothered you're welcome to check them and see if you agree.

Alchemy of the macabre (i) - Dan Brown
Alchemy of the macabre (ii) - Charles Dickens
Alchemy of the macabre (iii) - Charles Dickens
Alchemy of the macabre (iv) - Mary Shelley
Interesting how each chapter, more or less, had different writers! I will say I'm flattered by the comparison and I was going for gothic, but I was trying to emulate Daphne DuMaurier.

The mediamakers - Margaret Mitchell. When I tried to read Gone with the Wind, sadly I couldn't get into it. Mind you, I had by then watched the movie many times over.

Flight from Amsterdam to Heathrow - William Gibson. His work The Difference Engine has been on my To Be Read list for some time now, but I'm yet to read anything by him.

Weekend at Amsterdam - H P Lovecraft, always been meaning to read his work, and now will have to push him further up the list.

The Netherlands - Emmen and the fictitius bicycle tour - Cory Doctorow, never heard of this writer, but looked him up on Librarything and realised that I enjoy his style of writing, so have now added him to my To Be Read folder.

What I've been reading lately - Eucalyptus by Murray Bail - Margaret Mitchell

What I've been reading lately - If on a winter's night by Italo Calvino - David Foster Wallace, I've never heard of this author and also looked him up on Librarything. Sounds enjoyable so will be reading him in the future.

I thought I'd do my most recent entry, Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld - and again got David Foster Wallace.

Finally I analysed my blog entry He has autism, as this is an extremely personal topic for me and therefore literally written from the heart. It was compared to Arthur Clarke.

So, I think a fairly electic bunch of writers and of course we must take these things we find on the internet with a grain of salt. I'm also of the opinion that my writing can be stylistically very different depending on what mood I am in. I'd also like to try an experiment of analysing an author's actual work and see if they get the same result! You would think they would as surely the analyser would have their work copied into the program?

If you try out the analyser for yourself, please let me know in the comments box what result you got as I'd be keen to know.

Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld

I'm up to the bit where I want to slap the protagonist. I'm half-way through and this novel has been leading up to it. Lee Fiora is an unsure teenage girl writing from the vantage point of being older and experienced, so as a reader you really hope that she's matured by the time she's reached adulthood. Now I'm making it sound as though I'm not enjoying this book, but really I am. In fact I've been going to bed really tired and I can't put it down, so consequently I'm waking up each morning not having had enough sleep.

The book cover said that the novel was The OC meets Donna Tartt's The Secret History. I've never watched The OC, (but I have watched 90210, both the old - retro - and now in its newest guise, so it's probably similar) however I have read The Secret History and that was another novel I really enjoyed. I agree with that statement. It's also a little bit Chilton, the school that Rory Gilmore attends in The Gilmore Girls.

Lee Fiora almost seems like she has a split personality. She describes her home life with her parents and two brothers as almost hip, fun to be in and her dad's irreverent charm. When she's at her prestigious New England school Ault, she seemingly undergoes some kind of personality transplant leaving her almost devoid of any emotion. And when she does allow some emotion to seep through the facade she revels in her classmates reaction of her. Too weird, but then I suppose that's what teenage angst can be seen as too?

Good novel and worth reading, especially if you do like the above tv shows and Tartt's novel.

Dress-ups

This week when I went to pick up my kids from their daycare there was a sign on my son's room door announcing that next week will be 'Dress Up Week'! Oh goody, something extra for me to do. Just to clarify I am in no way craftily creative, so me making costumes just doesn't work. In fact, that's the sort of thing my husband is great at, but he probably won't have enough time this weekend to make anything.

We're being urged to rummage around op shops, find bits of fabric at home (we don't have that sort of stuff), dress up in costumes they already have or come in traditional dress, also something we don't have lying around. So off to the shops I headed and bought my son a costume. It is a lovely commercial representation of Lightning McQueen, a character my son absolutely adores.

The whole notion of dress up week is exploring the notion of identity. Our classroom teacher has observed many of the students pretending to be superheroes, or good or bad characters and she hopes that the dressing up will lead to some thought provoking questions where they can explore different emotions. Not bad for a bunch of four year olds.

I haven't shown my son his costume yet. I squirrelled it away into the top part of his wardrobe, but I think that perhaps we can do a big unveiling tonight and let him try it on as he's supposed to wear it tomorrow. I'm just hoping that I can somehow get him to wriggle out of it later for bathtime......

My style is......

There's a regular segment in my Sunday newspaper - The Sunday Age M magazine - called 'Streetseen'. This segment seemingly plucks everyday people from the street and asks them who they are and what they're wearing. I'm always fascinated that these people can answer the question: My style is? They do so with such bravado, such confidence.

This got me thinking. How would I describe my style? This week's paper had a PHD Monash university student describing herself as academic chic. That's what I want to be! Unfortunately I'm far from it. Academic chic to me means tailored trousers, tweed, vests, feminine blouses with pencil skirts, structured clothes and good quality leather footwear. The sort of clothing you most definitely won't wear in a sandpit.

In trying to describe my style I came up with a few ideas: comfortable sportswear; doesn't need ironing; Can I pick up the kids in this?; OMG I need to go shopping, this will have to do; OMG I need to put a wash on, this will have to do; fashion for the curvacious.

So as you can see, I don't think a journalist would approach me on the street, as I probably wouldn't meet their criteria. But I will say that I admire a person who can straight out describe their fashion sense. Personally I find it difficult to put my finger on it, so to be able to say that your style is say, androgynous, gypsy hippie, tea-party or trendy vintage takes a great deal of really knowing yourself and being able to express it.

When Australia has to do it's homework

Next Tuesday the 9th of August 2011 is Census night. This is when, presumably, the whole of Australia fills out a form, in our case it's the household form, providing details that can then be used as information to create a better Australia.

Personally I don't have a problem with a Census, but that's because I have Socialist leanings. Somewhere deep down I truly believe that the government is working for us. And also, for some reason I don't mind filling out the form.

The last Census was done on the 7 August 2006, and this got me thinking about how much has changed for me. In this year's Census, I will be providing details about my two young children, and that I am not working, but studying. My husband's details I don't think have changed too much, other than providing a different age. This also got me thinking, how does the Census reflect how much women's lives go through chapters?

Census time in 2006, I didn't have children, I was working and I was at the very end of my final year in my degree. I remember filling out the bit for highest qualification achieved, and feeling a little annoyed that I was a few months away from that. This time round of course I can with great glee put down a BA but again I won't be able to put down my Post-graduate qualification until the next Census.

The Census before that was the year after we got married. So essentially we were newly-weds, working hard, and having just bought a house had the mortgage looming over us. Each time I have filled out the Census form I have lived and am living in a different household. Yes it has been in the same house, but the whole dynamic each time is completely different. The time before that I was still living at home, I suppose my mum filled in the form on my behalf.

So, next Tuesday the nation will sit down and do its homework, that is fill in their forms, and I wonder how many other people see the changes and twists and turns that their life has taken too?

Renovation

This Sunday I lined up with some friends to try and inspect the houses on this season's The Block.

After queueing, easily for a couple of hours, we were then told that they were closing down the site. Disappointment reigned, however, oddly was feeling very positive as the couple of hours in the line were full of great conversation with friends. It did help that the day was stunning, sunshine and blue sky.

I was especially keen to see Josh and Jenna's place because they have used honed bluestone, the floor finish that we have chosen for our place. We wanted a floor that would work inside for a changeable space and downstairs bathroom, as well as being used to extend to the outside for our courtyard. I specified honed bluestone a couple of months ago to the architect and wanted to see how it looked laid down - of course I'm now going to walk around stating that they copied my idea!

Also, update on our renovation. We have finally tendered out to builders last week, and awaiting quotes. I think our final decision will rest on price, of course, and the rapport we have with the builder when we meet them. Now I feel like we're getting somewhere!

Reading list about the Autism Spectrum

I'm starting to devise a new reading list to learn more about people's experiences with the Autism spectrum. I'm specifically looking for uplifting titles, stories that explore and champion the diversity of people who are regarded as different. I don't want to read any more books about the spectrum that categorise it, or list characteristics to look out for, or how to over come it. I want to read about people who have discovered their talents and achieved things, been supported and can describe their lives as something to be proud of. There aren't many books like this around. On searching I've come across depressing titles such as, Daniel isn't talking; Let me hear your voice: a family's triumph over autism; Pretending to be normal: living with Aspergers syndrome; The out of sync child; overcoming autism; the empty fortress; Facing autism; children with starving brains, and so on. Now I can't say that I've read any of these titles, so I really cannot say with any authority that they don't contain uplifting messages, but I find most of these titles depressing.

Today I began reading the first book on my burgeoning list, Be different: adventures of a free-range Aspergian with practical advice for Aspergians, misfits, families and teachers. I know, a really long title.

It's written by John Elder Robison, brother of the famous author Augusten Burroughs, and after reading only the introduction, I can already tell that it ticks all the boxes that I am after. Feel good, tick. Experiences, tick. How life has been for him, tick. Robison himself says, "There's so much talk about the disability of Aspberger's, so much focus on what kids who are different can't do, that I thought it was time for a book about what they CAN do". I read that sentence this afternoon, and had an eye-opening moment. This is exactly what I've been after.

I blogged not too long ago that I was beginning to tell people that my son has been diagnosed with autism. This is because I feel less anxious. A year ago I was devastated, and couldn't see beyond the spectrum that was being described to me. The black and white characteristics that were blurring and blinding me to my son who is just magnificent. All mother's say that I know, but try saying it when you have spent time de-valuing a person who means so much to you. When you think that it's all just hopeless and that there is no future. I now see the amazing memory he has, the astounding capacity of loving all of us, his cheeky sense of humour, and the quiet pride that comes from his knowing his alphabet, daily increasing numbers into the hundreds and all those hues of colours.

I don't worry so much. So now I'm looking for further supportive arguments to that fact. I want to hear the stories. I am ready to hear the stories.

Besides Robison's work, I have also come across, The game of my life: the story of challenge, triumph and growing up Autistic by Jason J-Mac McElwain; Born on a blue day: inside the extraordinary mind of an autistic savant (yes I know the title does still sound depressing but I read commentary that really it's uplifting)by Daniel Tammet; Thinking in pictures: and other reports of my life with autism by Temple Grandin; and Send in the idiots: stories from the other side of autism by Kamran Nazeer.

The last reading list I devised was on Steampunk as I was keen to explore this genre. I love embarking on new reading list. I'll let you know how it goes.

Listening to wondrous words

Yesterday my four year old son read on his own for the first time. He's been showing some interest in reading and six months ago I embarked on a program (of my own devising) to teach him to read. Six months ago he wasn't ready. But yesterday, there was focus, and interest and success! And listening to him saying the words on the page was fantastic. I'm unbelievably buoyed by this, as a year ago I was wondering if I would ever hear him speak, let alone read!

I've decided to use two books to start the reading process. One is a book I bought ages ago of the Dick and Jane series. I learned to read using these books as well as the Peter and Jane ladybird books.

As well as these books I'm going to use dr Seuss. This is a great series using phonics that are fun and memorable. Well we'll do more reading this afternoon and hopefully we'll continue to make progress. I'm very excited for him as I know that he's about to open a very special door.

My Steampunk reading list

For some reason I thought I'd posted this list ages ago, but hadn't. So here it is. I've read probably three quarters of the titles so far, and they all have varying merit, but if you're a fan of the genre, or want to try some different reading, most of the books here are good reads - stand out being China Mieville. Literary genius.

Boneshaker Priest

The Windup Girl Bacigalupi

The monstrumologist Yancey

Flora Segunda Wilce

The glass books of the dream eaters vol. 2 Dahlquist

The dark volume Dahlquist

The manual of detection Berry

The somnambulist: a novel Barnes

The court of the air Hunt

The meaning of night Cox

The league of extraordinary gentleman Moore

Thomas Riley Valentino

Chenda and the airship Brifman Bush

Gaslight grimoire

Anti ice Baxter

The difference engine Gibson & Sterling

Perdido street station Mieville

The steampunk trilogy Di Filippo

The grand ellipse Volsky

Mairedon the magician Wrede

The strangely beautiful tale of miss percy parker Hieber

The dancers at the end of time Moorcock

Neverwhere Gaiman

Whitechapel gods Peters

King rat Mieville

The name game

Being in the chapter of life, that is raising two small children, I meet lots of other mums. I meet them at Playgroups, daycare, kinder, the park, all those places that young families frequent. As a result I'm suddenly finding myself having to remember two to three names at a time. Allow me to explain. My oldest son is now four, and my daughter has just turned two. So this means over the last few years when I've met say, Joanna, I've also met her oldest, Matthew and his sibling Sam. Sometimes there may even be a third name to remember, this name accompanied by said littlie in a pram. Over time this translates to a lot of name-remembering! And I do also appreciate the fact that this happens vice-versa.

Yesterday I bumped into a mum that I had previously met at a playgroup easily three years ago. She also lives one street away from me. I knew she was expecting her third child in May, and had spent the intervening two months wondering if she'd had a boy or a girl and how they were all doing. So I was pleased to see her at the shops yesterday, and happily greeted her, saying 'congratulations, Gabby!' We then spoke for a couple of minutes, all things mum, when she then gently corrected me saying her name is Gina and her oldest girl is Gabby. OMG!

This means for three years I've been calling her Gabby in my mind. When she said this to me yesterday, I also did a flash mental stocktake and realised that I'd never really said her name to her (maybe there was a small part of me that knew it was incorrect?) but that she has always greeted me by my name. I felt really bad.

But then I got to thinking. I know that not all the other mum's I've met remember my name - though mostly they seem to. However my name is fairly memorable as a very famous song has been written about it and people always sing it to me. Gina was not upset or offended in any way, and I know that I'll never forget her name again. So in the last twenty-four hours I've been going over all the mum's names that I know, as well as their children. I figure that many of them will be around for a while, their children being friends with mine, and that really I should make more of an effort of remembering.

A Long-ago Promise

I have this vivid memory of standing on the asphalt netball court of my primary school playground and announcing grandly to a fellow classmate that my ambition was to write a book. Looking back I must have easily been around grade four. Perhaps grade five? To this day I don't know where that statement came from. I love writing and still hold the lofty ambition of one day actually writing a published novel of some kind, but to say that at such a young age?

I achieved my Arts degree later in life, I was an older student, being thirty years old, and majored in Literature, doing this precisely before having my first child. The study came later on in life, mostly because I felt unsupported in my home life with my academic studies when I was in high school. But I try not to lay all the blame at parental feet because I'm a true believer that you are what you make of it. If you say you're going to do something then do it. When I started my degree my grandmother was adamant that I kept telling her that one day I was going to write and be a journalist. When I was in high school I harboured ambitions to study journalism but it was not to be - and truthfully I don't think I'm cut out for that particular profession.

In the last fifteen or so years I've been noticing something. Almost everything I have set out to do, I have done. It's been a lot of incremental things; getting married, buying a house, having children, studying, traveling, and now the extension. I have slowly set goals for myself and looking back I can see that I have achieved most of them. All except this one.

So even though I uttered that grandiose statement in my pre-pubescent years, I feel that I should hold myself accountable to it. I remember reading or hearing somewhere that the average age of an author is 50. I'm 38, so I reckon that I've got a bit more time up my sleeve to make that statement come true.

Today I read in the paper that 'Late-blooming' authors had won two of the Prime Minister's Literary awards. I was heartened to read this. Stephen Daisley is 56 and wrote the winning novel Traitor.

It's his first book but he says he's been writing for 20 years. Another winner Rod Moss, 63, won the non-fiction award for The hard light of day.

I've not read either book, but on reading the article about their winning books, reminded me of a long ago promise I made to myself. And it made me wonder, perhaps these first time published authors have blogs too?

Feeling stagnant

It feels as if the whole world has been asking me, what's happening with your house? It's frustrating me to no end. We were hoping to begin our renovation/extension by June and it's now July. By now we should be living on a building site! What is the hold up? Even I can't answer this question clearly. At the moment it feels as though our architect is paying us lip-service and wanting to show us a whole lot of pretty drawings.

At present we are waiting for the specifications that will go on the contract so we can tender the plans out to builders. (At least that's my understanding). Yesterday we got more drawings with specifications on materials etc, but the costing still had not been done. A few things that had been talked about at our last meeting had been ommitted. Also our architect seems to have handed over the project to the person who works for him. We're not too fussed about that, because he's very good and has had some great ideas. But me thinks that our architect has gone on to bigger and better projects now that he's at the tail end of advising us.

Tonight I'm out to dinner and the movies with some girlfriends, and I'm bracing myself for the inevitable questions. I've already had a telephone conversation with my mum today discussing it, and I'm soooo over it. I just want to hear builders on the premises - even if it is at 7.30am.

The questions are inevitable because everyone knows that a) we live in a small house; b) we have two small children who are GROWING; c) they're curious; and d) they may be thinking we don't have the money to start - not the case, it's sitting there waiting to be used!

I'm going to post about this in a week's time with the notion of starting a timeline of exactly how long this is taking. Either I will be pleasantly surprised that things are moving along, or incredibly depressed that we still remain stagnant.

Butterfly or Bear?

I keep on hearing that we human beings are social animals. So then I ask myself, why is it that I am sometimes happiest, holed away at home, existing through a day-to-day routine developed by me, and sometimes not even jutting my nose out the door? I like nothing better than to be inside with a Do Not Disturb sign affixed. Unfortunately my two littlies ignore this sign consistently.

In fact, if it wasn't for my two children I think I could spend days at a time indoors and be perfectly happy. I wasn't always like this. Or was I? This is a question I keep asking myself. Have I always been so insular?

I don't think it's particularly good to be this way, especially when you do go outside and find yourself rapidly blinking from the bright light. In fact on those days that I do make an effort I always come away with some sense of exhilaration from having had some kind of human contact. But maybe this is so, because of having days on end at home prior to venturing out of doors?

The other thing is that I'm not socially shy. I can hold my end of a conversation. I can also usually fill in the gaps left in a conversation. This then makes me think that I'm at odds with myself. Take the other day for example. The kids were dropped off at daycare and I easily spent a half hour there stopping to chat with various carers as I slowly exited the building. I always have something to say. This was followed by two chatty phone calls. Then I went and visited another mum who is recuperating from an operation. All before lunch! I was quite tired in the afternoon, consequently spending two hours watching television recordings of my choosing. I loved it. Maybe even more so than the conversations I'd had earlier in the morning.

So, yes, we probably are social animals at best, but I think that we also would like to be a bit like bears who hibernate through winter. All for one's sanity of course. Or at least mine.

8am! Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!

I'm on semester break at the moment from uni. A few days ago semester two's timetable was released, and I'm going from a cushy two day a week - eleven to three - classes to two 8am starts. This is going to kill me!!! I have been blessed with two good sleepers. My son was sleeping through the night at four months and my daughter was three months. On our days of daycare and kinder I normally wake them up at around 7.30am. If we don't go anywhere ( I call it alarm-free days) then we wake up sometime between 8 and 9am. Yes, even with young children I get sleep-ins.

I've also had to ask for a day change at their daycare. My god it's like pulling teeth. But I wasn't taking no for an answer. Mind you, I'm still waiting for an answer! The director of the center asked me what would happen if she couldn't find them spots? I said I'd have to turn to my mum, but as she lives a half-hour away, it would prove to be difficult. Now to top it all off both my classes begin at 8am. The earliest I've ever had to be somewhere was 8.30am, and that was for my last job before having children.

I'm not looking forward to the early mornings, but who knows, maybe I will be completely turned around for the better.