Monday, July 6, 2015

revisiting the past

I had the opportunity to
revisit my 'old' life on Thursday and Friday last week.
It was the 2015 NZYF Contest Grand Final in Taupo
and my 'new' job is now a sponsor.
We were spotted two tickets for the Awards Dinner on Thursday night.
(terrible photo I know but the OSPRI logo is up there somewhere)
It's a funny old thing going back.
Things were basically the same,
a little more shambolic,
frustration was at about the same level,
as was the fun quota.
What was nice was to sit and have the dinner happen around me.
To relax knowing what was going well and not,
but it not being my responsbility.
I loved hearing what everyone had been up tp.
This was more so for the Young Farmers than the staff.
That was super nice.
I enjoyed catching up with so many people,
even getting a hug from Spud!
The last and only time that happened was when I left NZYF.
I spent Friday wandering the Grand Final Contest paddock
watching Grand Finalists complete modules,
chatting to farmers about OSPRI things,
and having a say on the old stockjudging comp.
I miss stinky cattle.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

I'm back...

I have missed writing my wee blog.
I was unfaithful and tried an anonymous blog because
I thought I wanted get some dark stuff written down and
out of me,
but I've realised that writing here is better because
I think about what I'm writing,
I think about you dear friend and
I like be thoughtful about what I write.
It exercises my brain betterer.
So what's been happening since last December?
Just the big things;
Mags is waiting to be diagnosed with dementia.
Specialists and the like take plenty of time to sort anything out,
so hat tip for the future,
should your aged parent show any symptoms of anything,
make sure you get it checked out as early as you can cause
in the public health system things move about
as fast as Mags does walk - glacial.
Good news, Mags is having a holiday in Brisbane with Pippipotamos for SIX WEEKS!
Am somewhat excited about this and am sleeping better.
Ma hives are still raging along. 
I made the mistake of feeling really well and believing it a few weekends ago,
didn't take an anti-histamine one day and boy did I itch, glow, swell and ache. 
It was like the bad old days all over again. 
But there is a website so Dr Google wins again.
I think I know what it is. 
 I'm always a bit surprised at others need to find the source of everything,
I mean I'm not a river in Africa, Dr Livingstone, I'm a people. 
 So what I think it is a mast cell disorder. 
I meet most of the symptoms especially the always weepy and itching eyes,
depression, hives, vitamin B deficiency and many more. 
I've never actually matched symptoms quite so well before. 
And the cure? 
Well what do you know,
there is none
 other than toxic chemicals so it's back to the diet drawing board. 
Thankfully, I'm not the only person with this,
once again thanks Dr. Google,
saving the day when medial professionals put you in the too hard basket.
I'm planning a family reunion for my dad's side,
the Russells
but unfortunately my lovely cousin Jennifer and her son Zane
were killed in a car crash just outside Bulls last Saturday,
the day before Mothers Day......
This is what I wrote on facebook the day after;
When I think of mothers that I admire, I think of my cousin Jennifer. Jen was born to be a mother. I've never met a person more suited, more capable, more ideal to be a mother. When she married Willie and had her four children, Rachel, Nicole, Zane and Hayden, she blossomed into this being that family revolved around. She was the centre of the family because she loved them and because she loved loving them. She worked hard as an at home child carer so she could be there ...for her own younger boys. She saved and worked hard to make their house a home. She encouraged, supported and was an enthusiast for all that her children did and could do. She was so proud of them and she should be.I've never met more polite, personable, pleasant children - carbon copies of their mother.
Yesterday in the news some of you will have read or heard about a car crash near Bulls. That was Jen and Zane, the mother and son killed in a car accident (and sadly another woman in the other car). Jen was only 40, Zane only 14. They were returning to Wanganui from a great family day watching Zane compete in go-carting, something Jen encouraged and drove many miles to make possible.
In years from now, I will think of Mothers Day and remember what a wonderful mother Jen is and what an example she is of loving, caring, sacrificing mother.
Jen would say live your life and get on with it.
RIP Jen and Zane
P.S. Call your mother. Now.
The funeral is Friday in Wanagnui.
My heartbreaks for her kids, her husband, her parents and brothers.
My heart is actually broken for them.
And this morning I got a call from Dors to tell me my Dad is in hospital
unable to stop bleeding,
as you do, well he does. 
Never mind where he is bleeding from cause the problem is that
he doesn't clot so bled away he is and
the blood transfusions are taking their time to kick in.
He is determined to make Jen and Zane funeral.
So heres hoping.

Monday, December 22, 2014

peace, out

I started this blog,
as a challenge to myself to write and write regularly.

After a short time, I found myself effectively in the writing profession of the dubiously named Communications.  Yes, I get to write for a variety of audiences, for a variety of masters. I write other people’s messages, often ending up using other people’s words.  There is little freedom or satisfaction in this.  In fact it is pretty soulless.
I had promised myself that, even when the days were dark that I would try not to complain about anyone on my blog.  I never wanted to have someone read my words, often used for humour and be hurt by what would be my thoughtlessness. I didn’t mind if I offended as we are all entitled to our opinion.
Now I find myself needing to write but much of what I want to write is driven from a place of frustration, of exhaustion, of disillusionment, of world weariness. I can’t do that without the freedom of writing for myself, not my little audience here. Besides I want to be over dramatic, despairing and wallow in my list of sighs.
So I will, I might, maybe will post again here with my funny stories but before you know it you won’t even miss me.
So don’t wait around.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

standing for something

today is the first afternoon of the standing desk.
Our work challenge for spring is a 70 day challenge
where we are in teams of four from across New Zealand.
Each day we have a challenge to met,
actually it might be each week I haven't read the rules yet
(or ever as rule reading or complying is not my forte).
In our team of four we have to walk 10,000 steps each day,
and some other stuff like drink green tea instead of coffee,
so that doesn't count for me cause I ain't no coffee drinker.
I nabbed the left over raisable desk so I can stand or sit or squat for that matter,
if I so choose.
The blokes in the office moved it in for me,
while I mucked up the cords between my phone and my computer.
I've been standing at my standing desk for two hours now,
I googled tips for my transition from sitting eight hours to halving that.
Turns out that hopped, boxing stances and rocking are all key to a successful transition.
I'll let you know how I get on.
Just last weekend, New Zealand had its triennial election.
Landslide blah blah, lots of rehashing blah blah blah.
But this election I was asked to stand for my party Act.
I usually avoid any public politicing but
this year it was time I stepped up and wore my colours on my front gate.
Turns out in my electorate there was nothing happening.
Mine is a safe National (conservative) seat and it appeared that the Labour candidate was high enough on the list that she would be returned to Parliament too.
(Labour's vote was the lowest in 90 years so she wasn't and now she has to get another job,
probably with the teacher's union).
But what about me?
Well it was time I stood up for what I believe to be right.
(totally subjective this rightness thing)
Since nothing much was happening in my electorate is posted this on the old Facebook:
Hey peoples, just a wee testimony of why I support Act and even stood for Act in my electorate and in the List. I believe in freedom, I believe in freedom of religion, speech, all sorts of freedom. I want that for myself and for you. I believe I can make choices for myself, govern myself - I don't have any friends who are idiots so you must be able to govern and make choices for yourself too. For those of you who are Mormon, my political beliefs are entirely enmeshed with my religious beliefs. I know that God has given us the right to choose for ourselves and that is what Act is advocating for. Now for a wee political spectrum lesson.....when we talk about left and right politics what we are talking about is the degree of control that party would exert over you and your life. On the left is total control, middle lots of control but not all, and the right is none. At the moment National sits in the centre, and all other parties are to the left, of the larger parties the Greens are the furtherest left, Labour is left of centre and Act is out there on its own to the right, not all the way but enough along that you get to live your life free of the tyranny of Govt. Now I understand that freedom and making choices for yourself is scary, as I get older I find myself getting a little more conservative/centrist on SOME issues but I support Act because even though some of their policies seem harsh, it's more that they are like ripping a sticking plaster off very fast. We have been lulled into a false sense of security. Look at the whole NSA thing, any government that doesn't believe the people should govern themselves is going to get in bed with spy agencies - that stuff would have been going on under Labour too (you earn UN positions by being good to those in power). So please vote wisely, not for quick fix, promises that probably won't happen (after all, no matter which party you are with, it's still a democracy in the House) but vote because you believe in the ideals and hope for freedom.
I am troubled by how media hijacks elections,
as much as my wee party was misquoted, misconstrued, miseverythinged,
I was also pretty horrified at the circus that particular people and their parties made this election into.
Even though in the end my campaigning efforts were limited
to putting up hoardings and delivering brochures,
I knew I was doing the right thing by standing for what I believe in.
Which is more than most people do.
This did not happen, but Act still wins at the end of the day
because David Seymour was elected in Epsom and he is pretty stellar.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

I'm on speed

It feels like the world is turning at a rate of knots,

probably nots, depending on your age.
Is aging related to an increased rotation of the earth?

Or is high drama responsible for me the world spin?
In the past eight weeks
we've had domestic abuse,
pneumonia (finally learnt to spell it),
hospital stays,
delirium (thought that went the way of swooning),
poor behaviour,
police and detention,
restructuring and letting go,
lawyers and doctors,
storms and thunder and lightings,
new cars and over tight bras,
anaphylaxis and itching,
help from family and odd places,
a lack of help from places you'd expect more from,
and some of that has been on repeat cycle.

Which reminds me,
we need a new washing machine.

Some of the problems were straight forward but
others were a riddle.
What is not old but is elderly,
independent but needs people,
loving but prickly,
forgetful and concise?

My mother.

Eight weeks ago now she called me
while I was in Wellington at the MIA* conference.
Slightly busy and a very long way away.
Her very small voice whimpered and whispered that
she didn't want to be at her house anymore.

As I scratched and itched hives,
 realising this was a little unusual and urgent,
I called my Homeboy Husband who was conveniently
at work only a few streets away.
He popped over and took Mags home to ours.

She had shrunk in her timidity.
She ended up staying at ours for a month.
A month in which she got a nasty flu we had
and turned it into dramatic, hospital required pueumonia.

Before catching a ride in an ambulance,
Mags had scared us with delirium and pretty much a cationic state.
Seriously the morning of the ambulance call,
she looked like one of those Peruvian mummies.
She was seriously dehydrated and breathing high in her chest.
She has no memory of almost a month of illness and recovery.

She sure as heck has no memory of seven hours in A&E.

A&E is my new happy place.
It's somewhere I can relax cause someone else is taking care of things.
I quite enjoyed those seven hours,
I ended up very relaxed and quite happy.
There's a great deal of stress for our whole family.

Each of us has had something extra ordinary going on.
Then there's the communal craziness.
my lil'sister Pippapotomos came to visit from Brisbane.
She stripped wallpaper and slept in
then helped organise lawyers visits and Power of Attorneys for Mags,
which contrary to her believe can only be invoked when she is well away with the fairies.
My mother is not old but she is.
You can tell she is old because she is so stubborn about her now
and afraid of her future.
I remind myself that so many people go through this.
Sometimes I have to really remind myself of this.

* Meat Industry Association, not missing people.