Why Do Babes Suddenly Appear...

Strange things have been happening lately and it has me taking a good look at myself.

Babies of the complete stranger kind have been leaving their mothers to come to me.

Just yesterday a small boy of about seven with his mother in a shop looked up at me and wanted to tell me all about his teeth and then he fell silent and laid his head on my belly and gave me the most beautiful quiet embrace. It shocked his mother and left me feeling a bit bewildered....

but then I smiled as it dawned on me how children must see me.

I'm sure I remind them of "grandparents".

In my mind's eye, I still have rich cascading chestnut hair, but children see me as I am all snowy white.

For children, white represents "grandparent" and the natural association most of the time is a good one.

I've spoken about age before and now I am realising a new boon about aging, some parts of it are wonderful. I regret that my eyesight is failing and some sewing tasks must simply wait till daytime now; I feel my joints stiffen,

but I do not regret my natural hair, 

not grey but rather stardust....

(For those of you who don't know what I look like I have just been into the bathroom and taken the obligatory selfie for you; a la naturale, sweat top and no make-up.)

Cubby House Busy

My nephew has come for a visit from the mainland and I am very busy;

making cups of tea and banana pie,

phone calls, washing up,

shopping, making orangeade/lemonade,

telling the time and dressing babies.

sorting shapes and colours, reading books,

Moving furniture and organising people and pondering dress standards.

And that's all without leaving the cubby house!

We also have a bag of money that we take with our folding chairs to see the circus just along the way, through the gate and beside the chook house in the shade of the apple tree. 

We pay for our tickets and sit and enjoy the show.

After the circus we have to feed the chickens and collect the eggs

Pick some vegetables and visit the fairies

Isn't 3 a gorgeous age?

Ginseng and Salmon Farm

I am so blessed to have a wonderful mother-in-law and I enjoy her company very much. Sometimes I get to go on the monthly bus excursion with her and the local Probus Group.

 This week we visited 41C South Salmon Farm and Ginseng Farm.

I have a friend who owned a salmon farm and visited her on many occasions including the stripping time so I was feeling a bit blasé but was surprised to learn about the unique way this farm was run.

  

The farmer has a waterfall at one end of the property which feeds the fish growing tanks by gravity. The water is then passed through a series of ponds till it finally reaches a wetland for the final process in the cleansing chain finally draining into the river system as cleaned water.

It even feeds through this water wheel which in turn provides power to the farm house.

There are also solar panels on the house so the whole energy of the farm is self sustaining and ecologically friendly. 

As you can see the wattles are still in bloom.

I was very surprised to discover they grew ginseng as well. It is incredibly slow growing and required a very shaded environment. 

The farm has produced a diverse range of products using the herb.

Ginseng is said to have a very wide range of beneficial effects including aiding the metabolism, blood health, positive endocrine assistance and healing properties.

Definitely worth a visit if you find yourself on the road between Deloraine and Mole Creek.

It's been an eye-opener for me going on these trips with the "oldies". You may have seen coaches of retired people tripping around before. They are doing more than filling in a day, they are learning about such a diverse range of things in their environment and they are also doing their bit propping up the economy, spending a little bit everywhere they go. Where they stop for lunch is a boon for some of these small out of the way hotels.

I am so blessed to have the opportunity to trip around with them a few times a year.

In The Looking Glass

"But then, shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way -- never to be an old woman -- but then -- always to have lessons to learn!"

             Alice - "Alice In Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll

A funny thing happened to me today.

I saw myself quite clearly.

I'm not talking about grand enlightenment.

I mean I saw myself very clearly.....

After arriving home I came inside, stepped into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and thought,

"Oh that's disappointing! My make-up has not lasted it's usual dewy freshness today"

But you see I had on my new glasses for distance vision.

I was actually seeing myself clearly!!!

I have tried to re-create the horrible/hysterical moment for you with edits to a photo.

I looked....

slid my glasses down my nose.....

pushed them back on....

stared.....

lifted them and peered.....

placed them back down again....

up.....down....up....down.....

I burst into hysterical laughter. 

My eye sight has been going ever so subtly and I have been heading out the door every day thinking I look glowing and dewy fresh.

It gives me the giggles every time I think about it!

Well ignorance is bliss and I am going to continue to look at myself only with my glasses off. The upside is that if I am looking at you without my glasses on.....

you look dew fresh too!!!

Now, go into the bathroom right now and try it yourself if you wear glasses for distance and see how funny it is. I've been laughing at my vain inglorious self all day.

What Are the Boundaries of Care?

I overheard a conversation the other day.

A lady with an elderly father was vehemently denying she would ever assist her father with his toenails. She said "there are some things that are just too personal."

Well it got me thinking about elderly care in the family.

I asked myself, if Dad had surgery would I be prepared to look after him and assist with showering and dressing? 

As for his toenails! 

I used to show my love for him from about 8 years of age by doing his toes and massaging his feet when he was tired from work. I appreciated that he went to work all day to provide for the family.

Now looking back I could not deny care to someone who cared for me.

I had not thought about the limits before.

Is it because my mother was a nurse and care for the elderly was something that we were more attuned too?

I watched her care for my grandmother until her death.

Am I just de-sensitised to age and personal care?

Is it a cultural thing?

My Italian friends and Asian friends place no boundaries on parental care.

Is it a class thing?

Is it a sign of economic progression? We have all sorts of people we can pay to do these jobs.

Obviously there comes a time when the level of care required is not always able to be provided in the home environment. There is a lot of other "stuff" before that time though.

Because of the work I do, I see more and more elderly couples trying to maintain nursing care of each other when they really are at their limit already. One of the reasons is that families are more far flung these days. Once it was that children moved interstate but now it is common for them to re-locate to different countries all together! 

I'm not judging here, just making an observation. 

Have you ever thought about the day your elderly relative may need care?

Have you had experience with elderly care?

I would really love to hear your thoughts and experiences.

Surprise Package

What a delightful surprise to get this in the mail today from Sarah at If Only I Had Chocolate.
She has created this especially for me just this week, so I know where her spare time has been spent.
Isn't that a gratifying thought, that someone spent hours in making something for you....
It's a whole different level isn't it?
I love being in this "place" of my life where maturity allows me to really revel in the simplest things.
At 18 or even 28, I didn't have the same level of appreciation, not because I was a bad person, I just didn't have the life skills under my belt.
I love that my life is so much fuller and richer in the simplest of ways. When I was young, days must have passed in a haze. I remember being horrified to the same level today, frightened about the same things; the concerns are still the same. But it is the level of delight and appreciation that has heightened for me these past years and that is beautiful beyond words. Every day has the potential to reveal dozens of delights.
That's why every day I acknowledge to myself at least one "It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This..." moment.
Today I go off to work loving my new dish cloth, revelling in the love of another who took time in her day for me.

My new pressie goes beautifully with my new hand towel. Which by the way is where I have been head down this past week. I have been making hand towels and aprons (in very generous sizes) exclusively for Resurekt at 207 Invermay Rd Invermay

Sarah's gift got me thinking how lovely and personal this dish cloth is. "T" is easy enough to do but you might need to map out your knit/purl stitches on a bit of grid paper for more complicated rounded letters.

These would be great added to your Christmas present list.

This weekend is the growers market at Perth in the grounds of Ut si on the main Rd and I'm looking forward to the intelligent, witty company of Lee from Killiecrankie Farm on the stall. We will have Dave Potts there also this Saturday who is a real live organic vegetable farmer on a much larger scale than my small holding.

Suffice to say with the three of us and the very tempting selections of Ut si's on site wood fired oven, it looks like a quality day ahead.

Finally, a dear friend of mine on the other side of the world is in need of your prayers for her family.

Please take one minute today to send positive supportive thoughts. As you do, could you please visualise the sun and imagine it's warmth flooding through you. Feel the penetrating  rays on your shoulders. Gather it all into a ball and throw it to her in America.

Thank you in advance as I know you are already snowed under with your prayers for New Zealand, Australia and Japan and that you are also sending peace to the Middle East too. It's a very busy time in our world but never under estimate the power of prayer, what ever form you make it in.

Volunteering for the Graveyard Shift

Every Tuesday, a group of people meet at Longford's Christ Church, weather permitting, and we do a couple of hours work on the graves.

They call themselves "The Graveyard Shift".

Mostly weeding and removing accumulated leaves and sticks.

Today I raked bucketfuls of acorns and pulled a couple of oak seedlings from the gravel on top of a large grave.

It was a perfect summer day with blue skies and a gentle breeze every now and then.

As I worked away, people walked through and stopped to chat with other workers. I was so glad to see Mum having social interaction with some new people.

Smoke drifted lazily from a small pile of debris that wasn't suitable for composting, the smell reminding me of a time long ago when every yard had an incinerator and rubbish was burnt weekly, do you remember, in the times before plastic?

There is something so tranquil about the sounds of birdsong, brooms sweeping and rakes rustling. The only sound to loudly interrupt the peace was the occasional bursts of laughter from the folks as they exchanged friendly banter.

These are the sounds of industrious retirees. At 67 Mum is one of the youngest and me, I am positively a baby!

This might be something you might be interested in doing in your community. If there isn't a group already, you could advertise in the local paper in the community notices section.

These people have worked all their life and now continue to give. They are keeping themselves fit and benefiting the community. Oh you younger generation, I hear constantly about how hard your life is, I just hope you too will one day become like this older generation that I am so proud of.

Arthur

This is Arthur.

He belongs to Craig and his sister Leeann. Leeann loves him so much and he lives with her but while she has been on holiday at the Gold Coast in QLD, he has been at our place.

He looks like a lovely puppy....admittedly with a face only a mother could love.....

WRONG!

He is a very old man at about 9 human years and for his size that converts to about 90 dog years. Dogs his size have a much shorter life span than other breeds. The average for his breed is 6-8yrs.

You can definitely see the history and ancient heritage in this face. His breeds hark back hundreds of years (just like my standard poodles do). He is part wolfhound and possibly part mastiff. He was a rescue dog and Craig tells that as a pup of 6 weeks he was already 10kg (20lb)

Here is a shot with my hand as well. Compare the palm of my hand with Arthur's nose. Awesome huh!

This gentle giant will let me open his mouth and shove tablets back there with good grace and temperament.

He weighs about 100kg (200lbs) and no, he doesn't eat much, because he doesn't DO much.

As an older dog, he has arthritis and needs LOW to the ground, stable, soft bedding. His teeth are worn quite a bit but still need some bones for daily plaque management. Chicken frames and lamb/beef bones are great. He also needs good quality, nutritionally complete kibble that is free of artificial colours (gives him skin allergies) and salts and caramels (bad for old dog kidneys).

There is a lot vets can do to ease the pain of arthritis and provide quality of life with drugs like cartrophen. I am a firm believer in the benefits of fish oil and green lipped mussel extract for dogs too.

He has had a lovely time with the poodles but at the end of the day he regards them as the babies they are at a third of his age.

He is a lovely dog with a gorgeous nature and particularly protective of Craig and Leeann's mother, and I couldn't help sharing him with you. All our dogs have been rescued dogs, and they are just the best. We know Arthur had a sister also for adoption way back then and I know Craig always wishes he could have adopted her too. We hope she has had a loving home and long life like Arthur has and send her our love wherever she is.

Old

Some things have been inexorably been pulling me towards this point in the conversation this week so I have to come right out and say them....

and at the risk of sounding narcissistic....

Well Meaning Friend: "I think it does make you look old though"

Tanya: "You say it makes me look old...like that is a bad thing"

I have been going grey since I was 16yrs old. I was once a rich auburn/chestnut with hair down to nearly my waist and thick as rope. At nearly 44, I am significantly grey, especially in the front half of my head.

It's not that unusual really. There are a lot of people with significant grey at my age but we're not used to seeing it because they diligently dye it.

I'm certainly not against dyed hair; in fact when I was 13 years old I used to sigh and dream of having white hair and having it blue rinsed and set every week like the old ladies did.

I have encountered a LOT of well meant suggestions that I dye my hair (and I have at times) because "I'm too young to be grey" or "it makes you look so old"

The later statement may very well be true but the problem I have with this statement is why it is said like that is a bad thing. It really places silent synonyms like; bad, unwanted, pitiable, unattractive with the word old.

Why in this culture do we denigrate old?

Why do we not celebrate it or at the very least accept it as our natural path.

Why is there this wrestle and reluctance towards this part of our life?

Is it because we have been bombarded with marketing and consumerism. Have these negative suggestions been subliminally planted in our culture by the billion dollar companies selling cosmetics and lifestyles.

This week I also read a stirring post in one of the blogs I follow, Easy Living The Hard Way. It's called "Is Ignorance Bliss" and discusses how little children and for that matter people, know very little about where their food comes from, which is a good read in itself, but half way down the post is another subject.

Holly was sent a (pretend) torn magazine ad in an envelope to her house, addressed to her and in such a way that this company makes it seem that a well meaning friend urges her to try this anti-ageing cream. It gave the blogger some pause for thought and me also dear reader. I hope you will read her post too.

There is that poisonous word,

anti-age

Kind of sums it up doesn't it.

I'm not buying it.

I work in a medical specialist field and I see people of all ages, and yes, sometimes it is a pain to be getting old. But the beautiful depth of these people and their knowledge and wisdom is a delight to me. It's something I aspire to.

Wrinkled skin is not ugly; it's soft and silky and I can see the smiles where the laughter has been.

Grey hair isn't dull or colourless; it's the perfect softening foil for an aging face and it brings out people's eyes. It has so many shades and nuances.

I refuse to tell generations (or for that matter anyone over the age of 40 it seems) that they are ugly, worthless and far from perfect beings. They are not to be mocked or pitied.

Do we pity the toddler who stumbles when they are learning to walk.

I'll keep my grey hair thank you.

In my perfect world cosmetic creams would be paraded for what they are; skin conditioners that do make it more comfortable and protection from sun and wind.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Trouble is, beholders have been tampered with by marketing think tanks. There are a couple of songs that come to mind like Bette Midler's "I'm Beautiful Damn It" and India Arie's "Video" and "I'm Not My Hair"

These are the songs we should be singing to our children.