Feel the fear and do it anyway.

I met an amazing person today. She has felt the fear, the kind of raw fear that goes beyond and beneath, with the words terminal and cancer pushing down, the pain of 40 operations and seven years of scars, she felt the fear and now she is damn well doing everything anyway.
She is in remission, she has dyed her hair pink and she is catching up on things in a huge way, giddy with the life that she can now live without the fear, without the weight and without the 'C' word.
She taught me a whole heap in the hour that I spent with her, she made me see that the rest of us; the fearless, painless lucky percentage have it all wrong. We who have nothing to fear, nothing really to cry over, despair with or anger towards are so bloody scared that we have forgotten about living, forgotten about life.
She said she felt like a child, she felt free, happy, battered but not beaten, robbed of years but hell bent on getting them back.
We have those years, we have this precious time right here, right in front of us. She will not complain, she will not let things pass her by and neither should we; because for us to do so would be another knock down for the fierce girl with the fiery wild hair.

Not quite at mid life, or am I? crisis.

It's a wishy washy sort of an age this just shy of 40 stage. Am I middle aged yet? Do I fall into the cougar category? Do 20 somethings pity me? And what exactly is the appropriate skirt length?
It's all so bloody difficult. Half the time I am invisible and the rest of the time I stand out like a not quite cool enough to be here road cone.  I don't fit into a clearly outlined, tick this box, socio demographic and I can spin a yarn about when I was a kid things were a lot different but at the same time cringe at mid life crisis sufferers. Too old to be cool and too young to knit.
Age has taught me many things and one is to be blatantly honest at all times so I do admit that technology has taken me over, I gave up keeping up sometime ago. I no longer understand high street fashion and I only just figured out what a hash tag is....I think.
 I am in limbo, not ready to say no to a party, but kinda too wrinkly to go clubbing. Too young to say "by jingos" but too old to say "wassup?".
Oh, it is all so hard. But do I have a cup of tea or a red bull? A sit down or do yoga? And do I really have to go through an internal monologue on dressing my age every morning?
Two years ago I was relevant and two years from now I'll be fabulous, but can someone please put a label on exactly what I am now?

A literary hot water bottle.

My poor little random blog has been completely neglected, pushed aside, booted out the door on a cold night and thoroughly unloved of late.So, well, I thought I would warm it up with some words with no particular purpose, theme, angle, or point. For one reason, I don't actually have anything of note to say, not even anything to rant about. My brain is trailing along, kicking at stones and stomping through leaves but not really arriving anywhere, so this string of words dripping away like a leaky tap is the sum of it all. A muddily puddle of random. Another reason is….aren't words lovely just as they are (insert question mark here as you will know if you have been around my blogs before that my poor old and over-used question mark died sometime ago).

A right royal twat.

Someone made a comment the other day that initially got my back up and put me on the defensive  it then it got me thinking and now I am at the rant stage. So hold onto your hats.
We were talking about my new job and the hours I'm doing blah blah blah blah and the man I was conversing with proceeded to tell me how tired my husband looks since I started this job and he really hoped I was still looking after my family.
I very ferociously told him, with eyes ablaze that yes, that was a given. I stopped myself there but well, now I will start where I left off and tell you what I could have said if hindsight had have kicked in a tad faster.
Firstly, let me tell you that I have had quite a few similar comments and it appalls and amazes me to think that people in 2014 think that the job of looking after a family lies solely on the Mum's shoulders. I work about 30 hours a week my husband works at least 60 and has done forever. The expectations that society puts on him is to earn money and perhaps play sport with the kids and teach them about boy things. The expectation put on me is to raise the kids, feed everyone with my husbands hard earned cash and clean, tidy and wash clothes till my little heart sings.
Well, the thing is that in my house my husband is a way better cook than me, enjoys ironing and knows where the vacuum cleaner is, we share the load and I earn my share of the income. The kids love hanging out with their Dad, he teaches them their letters and numbers and something really important as well, that life is limitless and gender is irrelevant.
What really matters is not if Mum chooses to stay home or go to work it's that the kids are getting what they need,that they know they are loved and that everyone is on an equal footing.
So here's what I really should have said to the man with the mind of a Neanderthal. My husband may look exhausted but that is not because my family is being neglected it's because life is exhausting. I too am knackered, tired of people like you who think people like me should stay home and never have a deeper thought than what to cook for dinner or have an opinion. An opinion such as this, that you Sir are an idiot and a right royal twat.

Oh for a quiet life.

Nobody else wanted my dog, and that's pretty much why I now have him. I often wonder why no one else wanted such a lovely, handsome and goofy fellow, he loves the kids and he has a clumsiness that is very endearing…... but then there are times like today that I don't bloody want him either.
He is a hunterway collie cross and like many of his kind he has a wiring of the brain issue. It only happens now and again but when a slight adjustment of the minute connections causes a fuse out, he loses the plot.
He generally co-exists with the ponies, no problem. But for reasons that hold no common link he sometimes decides to jump the fence and run around and around and then when they eventually get fed up and bugger off he gives chase.
Its not ideal, he is quite large and they are quite fast and his ears turn off and as I said his brain becomes awash with instinct. I do what I generally do when something is not going as I had planned, I yell and I scream and I stamp my foot. …..but he couldn't give a hoot.
When he is done, he smiles at me, yes smiles and I tell him that he is naughty and then he behaves himself for awhile. But well it is only a matter of time before he does it again and I have to wonder why….why do I have to have a dog with a Jekyll and Hyde syndrome, I wish only for a simple life, with quiet children, lawns that mow themselves and a dog that doesn't malfunction.

Selfless selfies.

Selfies with no make-up, please can we stop now? Donate to cancer, yes, but endless mug shots of your naked mugs, no. Self less selfies perhaps, people actually putting money into a donation box, photos of people helping other actual people out, or just a photo of your dog. Yes, that would be preferable. 
The idea, commendable and If we laid it out bare and uncovered as was the intention then yip, the notion of no make up is great. But enough already and are you all actually donating? I'm not so sure.
 We shouldn't need a gimmick to promote cancer awareness, we are all aware, in fact we are all scared to death. Just give if you can, help if you can and support all the time. And as for no make-up, heck women it's not like you need it and my only hope with all of this nonsense is that women see that, are empowered by it and feel braver to ditch the slap more often.

Appropriate footwear.

Thank goodness that I live in a place where I hear a more pork every night and thank goodness that after being in the big smoke I can return to this. No matter how hectic my day has been or how frazzled I have become, red lights, rude people and running on empty…. there is the journey home. Buildings give way to paddocks, people give way to sheep and the sky get's a bit wider.
My dog greets me with a tail that makes his whole body wag, the pony neighs and the trees are just where I left them. Gumboots replace shoes and the routine that comes with living in the country takes over. Time is measured by who needs feeding first and if it's a good day then we all just forget about the chores for a while and head for the creek.
 The stresses of the day have no place here and even if they were considerable they become irrelevant, reserved for the world on the other side of our gate.
I will leave the cities for others, the wanting things that are not needed, the striving for things that will always be just beyond reach. You can keep your huge mortgage and mod con envy and you can go on believing that I am missing out on something by living out of town.
I can step in and out of your world with ease, but those very expensive and ridiculous shoes that you covet, well they won't last a minute in my corner of the world.

Extraordinary anyones.

I have met the most extraordinary people in my life so far and I still have plenty of life left to meet more. I chat a lot, to people that I know, barely know or don't know at all, I find out all sorts of wonderful stories because I, myself am willing to share mine.
People are fascinating, especially the ones who live in far reaching places, have dared to do what others wonder about and couldn't give a hoot what anybody thinks. The quirky people, the people on the edges, the well travelled or the elderly. The lady that gave me her painting that I fell in love with, but couldn't afford, the caretaker of Kapiti Island;  a man who has the shine of life in his well worn eyes because he found out what it's all about a long time ago.  My wonderful, crazy friend who sold her house in  Florida to buy a motorbike, my favorite hermit, who is the most educated man that you could ever meet. They all make up the essential part of life, living…. and they're all so busy doing it that they don't have time to be concerned about the constraints that the rest are doggedly constructing.
 Share your embarrassments, triumphs and failings and you will find that people offer you something of themselves. Don't be a closed book, don't judge or categorize because in my experience people are not usually what they seem. The best kept secrets are those stories that people actually want to tell, if you just give them time and half a chance. Turn over rocks, take a different path and talk to anyone, because those anyones are extraordinary.

Please don't make me cringe.

There's something that I don't understand, it's a turn of phrase that is used often,  it's cropped up a lot lately and well I just don't get it. Excuse me for being pedantic, but I think it's time it was addressed.
'Me time', what the heck is that? Why is it so yearned for and am I the only one who cringes when it is uttered?
Let's break it down, 'Me time', I guess it literally means time spent on ones own doing exactly what one desires to do. But, well, why? Firstly, it's kind of presumptuous to assume that you deserve to be pandered to and well for me personally to be alone would mean that someone else is lumbered with my kids…..hmm anyone keen?
 And then there is the question of what exactly you are supposed to do during 'Me time'. I can't even think about the words pampering and relaxing without feeling nauseated, call me odd, but I have 3 kids, a husband and a small zoo, I don't expect to 'chill out' (another hated phrase) anytime soon.
Is it a generational thing?  I suspect so, I'm pretty sure that 'Me time' was not said in our grand parents time. We have all become so incredibly feeble and needy. 
We all expect so much from life, but maybe 'Me time' should become 'Spend more time with the kids time', 'turn off the bloody telly time' or here's one to ponder 'Go out and do something that's not all about you time'.
Rather than me, think we. Think community, think collective, think beyond and bigger than just yourself. It's too big a world to be spending so much time thinking inwardly. If you have time to take time then put it to good use and if you find yourself saying "I just need some me time"…...cringe, pinch yourself hard and get back to the real world……fast.

The quirky zoo.

When the ducks quack at my house I know it's 4 o'clock, ponies start neighing at about 5pm and the dog goes nuts at about 7pm. My minute hand ticks around my animals, a few other things too (children, work etc) but predominantly, my animals mark my time.
They are all rescued, or were given, and none of them are normal. My horse has crooked legs, the pony thinks she is a dog, the dogs have issues and the ducks, well the ducks quack….a lot.
I'm not sure how it happened, I swear I am not one of those ridiculous animal people, or smelly cat ladies, but, well, it seems that I have acquired a zoo. They are high maintenance, quirky and a constant source of entertainment, pooh and work.
I feed them, cajole them into going back to where they should be and pat them and tell them they are lovely. I do whatever it takes to get my chooks to lay, to persuade the discarded sheep dog to please not round everybody up and to prevent the ponies from eating themselves into oblivion. I put up fences, I take them down, I get electric shocks daily. I spend a considerable amount of time lugging buckets of water, sometimes in my pajamas. I scratch behind ears and throw sticks.
What do I gain from all of this? A sore back and an endless source of compost, those are givens, but quite a bit more as well.  I ride my horse, through vast paddocks of green cut through by shadowy creeks and I feel free, I run with my big dog who has more energy than the All Blacks and I feel alive, I laugh at the ponies and admire the ducks; my chooks lay the best double yokers that nature can buy. They make life seem less serious and fundamentally about the simple things. A dusty track through a valley, a hill to be climbed, a jump for my daughter to conquer. Our animals provide us with a different way, an adventurous, humorous and grounding way. A way of life I guess, with a soundtrack of quacks, neighs, clucks, squeaks and ear splitting Hunterway barks.

I will be telling you noteworthy things that have been running around riotously in my head, whimsical thoughts from the dark depths, some philosophical nonsense and some good old fashioned banter.  A turning of a key and opening the door kind of action. To you, a communication of sorts, an ongoing starting where we left off conversation.