It has been happening to me a lot lately. An overwhelming feeling of conforming and consuming, and what for? What kind of life is this, I ask myself. My husband works six days a week, why? Just so I can spend all the money he earns on making me and the kids feel happy temporarily? It is a cloak, this capitalistic life. It is not living. Well, not the kind of living I want to do. But for now it will have to do. We dream of owning a house and some land. A place we can farm just for ourselves. A place where we can really be. Living with the land, being closer to one another and sharing with our neighbours. A life that sustains us as much as we sustain life.
The city of Brisbane is glorious.
Glorious weather, glorious people and glorious hours of entertainment for the whole family.
We have lived in Brisbane for a little over two weeks, having moved from Adelaide.
For us, Brisbane is the perfect fit.
It feels balanced to us. It has the perks of a big city, minus the chaos and high cost of living. People socialise face-to-face, life is relaxed and there are plenty of facilities for every one. And it is family friendly.
There are plenty of places to take the kids for free, almost any time of the day.
We regularly enjoy the playground, pool and markets of Brisbane’s “cultural, educational and recreational” Southbank precinct. We have not explored the museum and art galleries yet.
We recently enjoyed a ferry ride to Minjerribah (Stradbroke) Island over the weekend where kangaroos and vast views of the coast are abundant.
The northern beaches of the Sunshine Coast and the southern beaches of the Gold Coast are also relaxing places for parents to let the kids have some fun, particularly the shallow and sheltered bays where families flock on the weekend.
We have enjoyed walks, playgrounds and story time at the library (Story time operates during the school holidays too – they don’t just cater for school aged kids during this time like they do in Adelaide – Happy Days).
But it is the genuinely friendly people that we find the most glorious.
We made new friends in the first week we were here, offering support and recommendations on places to visit and things to do.
And did I mention that fresh fruit and veg and seafood is readily available at very reasonable prices. We just bought a punnet of strawberries for $1.50, blueberries $2 and fresh sea mullet $2.50kg.
I could go on, but I won’t.
Brisbane is glorious.
Thanks for your warm embrace.
To be a woman, a curvy one, perhaps described as plump or fat is a paragon. In many cultures, including my husbands, a woman who eats is a satisfied woman who is generous in nature, caring and loving of others. To be a thin woman who is careful of gaining weight is to be a fussy woman who is never satisfied. So enjoy your food and eat, I say, eat and share with one another and feel the satisfaction. The satisfaction of fillings those around you with joy. Be a paragon to others.
I use to live my life in a constant state of panick but I called it stress. I had too much on my plate. But I’ve eliminated those things that took up too much head space, including people. Yes, there were people in my life that sucked the very happiness from it. So I’ve slowly been ridding myself of all that crap that I don’t need. Slowly, I’ve been listening to myself. What my mind, body and soul needs. And really it needs very little. But those little things must matter.
The power in having none is the opportunity to create some.
When have you experienced none? Perhaps every day is a struggle for some? Then again, maybe having none would set you free?
What does knackered really feel like?
I never knew until I became a parent.
Now I do not know anything else.
Of course that is not entirely true, but it is pretty close.
When I am particularly knackered I whinge.
A bit of whinging really helps, I find.
But then I end up whinging all the time.
So, I embrace feeling knackered.
It can really take away a lot of stress.
Stress about the little things.
For instance, my 18 month old continues to empty the contents from the fridge door, freezer ice tray and the kitchen cupboards all over the kitchen floor.
I continue to bake, pushing containers and packets out of my way as I move around.
I step on blocks of ice melting slowly on the lino and soak my socks.
But I am too knackered to clean it up for the tenth time today.
Better just to let it go, I breath.
Sometimes being knackered is the best thing to be.
It is the season of autumn in Adelaide.
One week is hot with clear skies and warm nights, the next it is cold and pouring with rain.
The trees seem confused.
Half green with new growth and half red with the turn of the season.
Some stand near naked.
The coming of winter frightens me.
I do not like cold weather.
The heaters are already on in the house despite the looming electricity bill.
Layered clothing, socks and nanna blankets cover our laps.
House-bound I bake: melting moments, banana cake and apple pie.
Slow cooked dishes of lamb and subtle spices feed the soul.
But when there is break in the weather and we eagerly head outdoors, it is the crisp cold air that embraces us.
Breathing new life into our dormant bodies.