tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19596388315522518482024-02-06T23:41:53.018-08:00SerendipityMy thoughts, opinions, feelings...on big things, little things...Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-45085681387322833762011-06-26T23:19:00.000-07:002011-06-26T23:19:02.094-07:00Winter Sun.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pottering around. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time with Alex.</td></tr>
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Time? People talk about being time poor...spending quality time... putting your time to good use, time slipping by...running short on...So, on Sunday Alex and I spent the day together, outside, exams over, no books, no computer, actually no technology at all as our mobiles had no reception on Mt Tambourine. Bliss. Lots of bird song, cottage gardens, foodie shops, the Lavender Barn and lunch at the pub where if you don't book you'll be lucky to get a table. The landlord bought all the contents from a pub in Tunbridge Wells that was closing down to make way for a shopping mall, it only cost him 7,000 pounds for some amazing artifacts, one side of the pub is decorated in the English style, the other Irish.<br />
I'm lucky my 16 year old daughter likes to spend time with me, it's fun exploring together.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Irish side.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cosy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch, The Fox and Hounds.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Menu gazing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eton Mess.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2xMDZaEOFWa9BovopSGI4JjmzuISulVJOjHHAKDzap-phTQdtoQZCiSWTDOTv8JUcfsgvVfhASxtwAtGpUqQSrwslBgCIr6eXTbH7a1hQwugEBRJMS5UkTBkFzFqedlGbxkzLfPN7i8O/s1600/Picture+705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2xMDZaEOFWa9BovopSGI4JjmzuISulVJOjHHAKDzap-phTQdtoQZCiSWTDOTv8JUcfsgvVfhASxtwAtGpUqQSrwslBgCIr6eXTbH7a1hQwugEBRJMS5UkTBkFzFqedlGbxkzLfPN7i8O/s640/Picture+705.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful winters' day on Tambourine.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHVn1ZD6Ub9t8-3nPkgLa9aGQAX6qfjdMq4SzPEvAMNz0EnvjHsg9Y07QY5pBe_LNd0VuxzW4tlTl0JRNPGLPpA3WPxyt5_2heQcZVSIZm2hhxN2pBfldRNiQstolz0jlV2LWMcFvOeQp/s1600/Picture+728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHVn1ZD6Ub9t8-3nPkgLa9aGQAX6qfjdMq4SzPEvAMNz0EnvjHsg9Y07QY5pBe_LNd0VuxzW4tlTl0JRNPGLPpA3WPxyt5_2heQcZVSIZm2hhxN2pBfldRNiQstolz0jlV2LWMcFvOeQp/s640/Picture+728.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking for corks for our board.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7-_dPvZJ8sEHA4r1slPsW63xp2xRqEVNvkCVAzhmV6YVavipYVLdaztZxpxs8l0OXLmZ6gfxAGVKIFWDHN3JfkCUuCIDqPG9hcSjAIxIzy2vTN_mnuDNmS7HMYWxOJVfEXep_o-X8s_r/s640/new+camera+pics+033.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stopped here but the gardens were only opened by appointment. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Driving down the mountain, past the owner built houses nestled on the sides of the hills or perched on the top, smoke curling, fog swarming in, horses standing majestically in the setting sun, golden rays lighting up the green leaves making them almost transparent, I felt that all was good where we were.<br />
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</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-57652054537218612032011-06-22T21:52:00.000-07:002011-06-22T21:52:43.508-07:00A little sushi place.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiehi58Q-SlltrESbdWS0qMU9IAWiDSf8S4GtialJoo-8ss6bJl2WatYXtN7L7J5x4-_XfSwAJkXGb_BghXyBzOJKuG2MTSSkiQkX1lx4lMjacfyD_lvtmA3_iN2vObh_O0rI1tg1RMNsQn/s1600/Picture+702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiehi58Q-SlltrESbdWS0qMU9IAWiDSf8S4GtialJoo-8ss6bJl2WatYXtN7L7J5x4-_XfSwAJkXGb_BghXyBzOJKuG2MTSSkiQkX1lx4lMjacfyD_lvtmA3_iN2vObh_O0rI1tg1RMNsQn/s640/Picture+702.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Varsity Lake, 11am.</td></tr>
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Thursday is my new 'Moments' day.<br />
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For when I do something that I wouldn't normally. A simple little thing but one that makes memories.<br />
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So, today, Chantal has a long break between classes which she usually spends in the library or doing group work with other students. I picked her up and we went for lunch at a little sushi place near where she's finishing Yr 12, she loves this place as the ladies who work here are all so polite and gracious, not to mention that she loves to eat with chop sticks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiJdQmsv8BakAA457zQ2HgQwRPXDiUi94wwamH5qa-dqsRiN1zmD-2Yu6PJhQCnBZxwL0p-_TcheaWodhF27VoRjPBbxAhQ0X0CxxzWeZURY5xaPQ4X2FNrOaaqyWsqLZkvJ1B4Amxcxy/s1600/Picture+698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiJdQmsv8BakAA457zQ2HgQwRPXDiUi94wwamH5qa-dqsRiN1zmD-2Yu6PJhQCnBZxwL0p-_TcheaWodhF27VoRjPBbxAhQ0X0CxxzWeZURY5xaPQ4X2FNrOaaqyWsqLZkvJ1B4Amxcxy/s640/Picture+698.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The little sushi shop</td></tr>
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It was so nice to do something spontaneous. We covered many topics, her law presentation just handed to her in which she received a HD and as she's going into law, many assorted legal issues, the Australian diet and the way it has encompassed foods from many cultures, the school kids who came in to buy their lunch who 20 years ago would not have seen a sushi shop, her soon to be graduation, should she invest her savings from a little job where she works serving donuts, 15 hours per week, her nephew whom she adores and wants to buy presents for all the time and her favourite question...what are we doing on the weekend? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwAB839nsZzWnErXW38MHM0LjkigU4XLayTcdjvZhcO5JRYGYu3ozNkK5TpvS6xQ30_o5hlSDYKsBDZJIbByidv50LDxU54pj2e8nQ6TxHhCxYyQXL6EEyvVJTjuaX9qjFX7gULiIqTnx/s1600/Picture+699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwAB839nsZzWnErXW38MHM0LjkigU4XLayTcdjvZhcO5JRYGYu3ozNkK5TpvS6xQ30_o5hlSDYKsBDZJIbByidv50LDxU54pj2e8nQ6TxHhCxYyQXL6EEyvVJTjuaX9qjFX7gULiIqTnx/s640/Picture+699.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cucumber sushi with pickled ginger.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBJzBXFpKlXWs3NetFFP_OrOBU0vtjbl-rn4ot_VmkRn3Lp8AAiyUDlo0FM91ZR5dj7C1-53bgvlE72GpXtB5Eu37i8HMrhvzywFSUu0UTD-lj8PzNnFi8J3bWd1MGY_X2SSJ83IjooP5/s1600/Picture+703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBJzBXFpKlXWs3NetFFP_OrOBU0vtjbl-rn4ot_VmkRn3Lp8AAiyUDlo0FM91ZR5dj7C1-53bgvlE72GpXtB5Eu37i8HMrhvzywFSUu0UTD-lj8PzNnFi8J3bWd1MGY_X2SSJ83IjooP5/s640/Picture+703.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Contemplation.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkG8d70Ra_AH4PSginYWML0DNAeuKimEOHJ3rrKftefPZs5v6-MfuBJMQkgIncwPracai4QmpMiopwHX2qVdnIhlwbbIqo1U57njSIlACYQiCsKa8bI3DEeLExYwn8vIiNh92AukCNfGXD/s1600/Picture+704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkG8d70Ra_AH4PSginYWML0DNAeuKimEOHJ3rrKftefPZs5v6-MfuBJMQkgIncwPracai4QmpMiopwHX2qVdnIhlwbbIqo1U57njSIlACYQiCsKa8bI3DEeLExYwn8vIiNh92AukCNfGXD/s640/Picture+704.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back to school.</td></tr>
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Soon, my precious 15 year old will be grown up, forging her life and off and away. Precious moments.<br />
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Hope all my blogger friends are well and all is good for you.<br />
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Take care,<br />
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Vickixx</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-60012401259436655522011-06-13T16:49:00.000-07:002011-06-13T16:49:48.218-07:00A Walk into the Sunshine.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today I woke early, my normal routine, I opened up the house, made a cuppa, cooked some Anzac biscuits for the girls school snack, but then I turned on the radio and it was news time...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIa32CZBumJVEAjR4J0R7TIiHnYPrQKtyaxsRoAp_Fg0xG7276dsuj8s5C38JVWmOLW9aTKeFzEyXBQm4EvZeYybFEKNw5dSQ61n_-wxE0roAHIUwE6v2h1maSHz9Qqr2e4IT421Sdl_Ra/s1600/Picture+422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIa32CZBumJVEAjR4J0R7TIiHnYPrQKtyaxsRoAp_Fg0xG7276dsuj8s5C38JVWmOLW9aTKeFzEyXBQm4EvZeYybFEKNw5dSQ61n_-wxE0roAHIUwE6v2h1maSHz9Qqr2e4IT421Sdl_Ra/s640/Picture+422.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The darling Kristian, walking into the sunshine, Milton, N.S.W.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I was fine before the news, my day had been planned, I was on track with everything I needed to do but after listening to one disaster after another I somehow felt overwhelmed. To hear that our Prime Minister won't see the Dali Lama because China doesn't wish it was the straw that tipped me over. In the past I've thought when we get through this flood, earthquake, war, famine, terror threat, etc the world will be on track to a large degree, I used to think that we/they would learn and move on/upwards. You know, cessation of hostilities, humane treatment of women, enlightenment, progress, mediation, speaking on friendly terms with those that have different lives and cultures, etc. Do we not learn? If nations can't, how can the individual who is struggling with housing, finances and set backs see a clear path?<br />
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So, what to do? I ponder.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpKK_rCvo0oLCqXtShqEZ3dCDVsFJJmyICo_WGqOeH-pwj3-sgtAppha8rEA0Gz-z-_9uqxFFuvlQVPnKUs0V8kEDixGUP8U1BbVrzSWsa_tDb613XVLw3Tk17xv_MkfdDyQ9P1EtUv4p/s1600/Picture+320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpKK_rCvo0oLCqXtShqEZ3dCDVsFJJmyICo_WGqOeH-pwj3-sgtAppha8rEA0Gz-z-_9uqxFFuvlQVPnKUs0V8kEDixGUP8U1BbVrzSWsa_tDb613XVLw3Tk17xv_MkfdDyQ9P1EtUv4p/s640/Picture+320.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sugar Mill, Northern N.S.W.</td></tr>
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I suddenly reaslised that I am an optimist and always have been. It's a coping mechanism. Life is a fine place when I can see hope and good intentions through the butts of injustice. But I think I need to pull a bit more reality into my being. I need a mind shift. I think I'm missing something.<br />
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKva2BFbkCNrrN4vzSka1hzSivHE27iHW7wajg6Qs7GdndeSuuedFeSwA1fB-_Pp8PHT7-KeUQglVcrhoyUXoLsvaL_xPW_jNZoQxYmgoskESZh6q8NZJ0hVmA0UQtGRks0X0dAd_8aL1/s1600/Picture+411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKva2BFbkCNrrN4vzSka1hzSivHE27iHW7wajg6Qs7GdndeSuuedFeSwA1fB-_Pp8PHT7-KeUQglVcrhoyUXoLsvaL_xPW_jNZoQxYmgoskESZh6q8NZJ0hVmA0UQtGRks0X0dAd_8aL1/s640/Picture+411.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moving forward.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfCGcEjTQ4BszPzqRl6zjSHdPlpfQX3GrP0Nh5pu1OAsZS434VAfcSbvfyVvvZt1vuAo4DUgsyD9HSQlNG5B-VIF3dpNsnGhDCQygCEukEOmn8ATf4fu3A6CyMLamNTbqZ6CQfK48Y79F/s1600/Picture+225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfCGcEjTQ4BszPzqRl6zjSHdPlpfQX3GrP0Nh5pu1OAsZS434VAfcSbvfyVvvZt1vuAo4DUgsyD9HSQlNG5B-VIF3dpNsnGhDCQygCEukEOmn8ATf4fu3A6CyMLamNTbqZ6CQfK48Y79F/s640/Picture+225.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A well recognized symbol of peace, Bamboo nursery, Tambourine Mountain.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I am not going to turn my back on the daily world but I'm going to find restoration in the kindness and outpouring of love of strangers in times of catastrophy. I'm not going to waste any more emotional grieving on what is done, troubled times bring out the best in we fragile humans. That so often, supreme effort is shown, given, offered with never a thought of pay back is the best of all hope that I can wish for this planet now. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnxCSWsxKeJmRalGU74ywr1zd_GluVfzrxg_ZgqA2E0ydPvZBfyNevOeXNvHTDsVnL2A6B1cpvyF8Dm8g1GuJ8VEj7Ov4ekbrJYI-lwY4w_75dVA5MiZrn9gCi3nw3TUIWM6pmOxbwD8J/s1600/Picture+233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnxCSWsxKeJmRalGU74ywr1zd_GluVfzrxg_ZgqA2E0ydPvZBfyNevOeXNvHTDsVnL2A6B1cpvyF8Dm8g1GuJ8VEj7Ov4ekbrJYI-lwY4w_75dVA5MiZrn9gCi3nw3TUIWM6pmOxbwD8J/s640/Picture+233.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink, symbolising love, caring, acceptance and calm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And finally, these words by Robert A. Ward;<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Robert A. Ward</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">I wish you the courage to be warm when the world would prefer that you be cool.<br />
I wish you success sufficient to your needs;<br />
I wish you failure to temper that success.<br />
I wish you joy in all your days;<br />
I wish you sadness so that you may better measure joy.<br />
I wish you gladness to overbalance your grief.<br />
I wish you humor and a twinkle in your eye.<br />
I wish you glory and the strength to bear its burdens.<br />
I wish you sunshine on your path and health to carry you on your journey.<br />
I wish you peace — in the world in which you live and in the smallest corner of you heart where truth is kept.<br />
I wish you faith — to help define your living and your life.<br />
More I cannot wish you — except perhaps love — to make all the rest worthwhile.</div><div style="color: #655d63; font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><br />
</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I wish you all a truly lovely week,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Vicki xx</span><br />
<br />
</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-28513124975171918902011-06-09T19:00:00.000-07:002011-06-09T19:00:16.274-07:00Cuppa.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y7T31UO_Qa3ehnGpoji3h_ZlgFFKdOGBEMSPbr6-LDm3L4XKEZSHYMap3Mfi4fBtVSgR2MgdwhY7PjngBf7lKbSLqeZPPvAP_q-HIG0IN9wmMZOn5kyrtSp711dsaueM43XqWAEdMQgG/s1600/Picture+467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y7T31UO_Qa3ehnGpoji3h_ZlgFFKdOGBEMSPbr6-LDm3L4XKEZSHYMap3Mfi4fBtVSgR2MgdwhY7PjngBf7lKbSLqeZPPvAP_q-HIG0IN9wmMZOn5kyrtSp711dsaueM43XqWAEdMQgG/s640/Picture+467.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The darling Kristian, when a bottle just won't do!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-CyI_xi0GgZmyE4jAP2hFt_EEHUl2vkzqwFTy79YnF-OAdE_4VnzHoAxf-Rir0uAM6GCZNiCAS0FR712x-Igukg3MjIGQBm-2TSKx0XuztOdd8PSPr8F5HilUELPgTsim3-sEeetkvkIb/s1600/Picture+505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-CyI_xi0GgZmyE4jAP2hFt_EEHUl2vkzqwFTy79YnF-OAdE_4VnzHoAxf-Rir0uAM6GCZNiCAS0FR712x-Igukg3MjIGQBm-2TSKx0XuztOdd8PSPr8F5HilUELPgTsim3-sEeetkvkIb/s640/Picture+505.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Earl Grey at the National Portrait Gallery.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTmpS6LtPpmZJetFqOuUFVv_g-nb9mGwERU2bA262aOaP-MuwqHa31mxw8CNK4bkGZFDmKAJkjskrClOzsYaFeijyeNKHKkKgYTBi1p9eUfcmSefHB93jCOSLEnQbmWy3USnJUZKTbRRvH/s1600/Picture+578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTmpS6LtPpmZJetFqOuUFVv_g-nb9mGwERU2bA262aOaP-MuwqHa31mxw8CNK4bkGZFDmKAJkjskrClOzsYaFeijyeNKHKkKgYTBi1p9eUfcmSefHB93jCOSLEnQbmWy3USnJUZKTbRRvH/s640/Picture+578.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Take away macchiato or latte.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TxSXfrK5SF_MRPBprsPcOjnK56woaF1f793iCokqz1_I277BhOfMRLmNgwUP5QI2Td2fHme6U8d1XTr0PdfESfmQND5FiNUhDe3xvRXtaeEQKbrwmo5YH2l1hjgKi7gIDWvbqKgu5Vuv/s1600/Picture+525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TxSXfrK5SF_MRPBprsPcOjnK56woaF1f793iCokqz1_I277BhOfMRLmNgwUP5QI2Td2fHme6U8d1XTr0PdfESfmQND5FiNUhDe3xvRXtaeEQKbrwmo5YH2l1hjgKi7gIDWvbqKgu5Vuv/s640/Picture+525.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex, with hot chocolat, sourdough raisin toast<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcDMNSKkXun0feQJecG1mQ7e6HTw-0IlvO7uTYijJy14XCaNrCXvAO7SfJMOQ0CxVttsrRa6zdf_FLe7atQWCSzDUHjczNSPwYbkRiSLvmSbSQKsgLLzGJ2Jl-Vt4XJF13B6wxWahMQgAI/s1600/Picture+519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcDMNSKkXun0feQJecG1mQ7e6HTw-0IlvO7uTYijJy14XCaNrCXvAO7SfJMOQ0CxVttsrRa6zdf_FLe7atQWCSzDUHjczNSPwYbkRiSLvmSbSQKsgLLzGJ2Jl-Vt4XJF13B6wxWahMQgAI/s640/Picture+519.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tea for two or four or....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'm very grateful to the discovery of tea. I love it. Put me in a tea shop and I'm in sensory overload, the olfactory has never had such delight, well maybe in spring time...and I do love the smell of little babies...<br />
<br />
Way, way back, before the 10th Century it was being served, exchanged and adapted.<br />
<br />
What would we do if not for this social ritual? I could imagine meeting a friend in a park or a gallery but so often the most bonding of times is simply sipping a beverage with said friend in a busy, noisy cafe. There is an intimacy in these places that belies their appearance. My favourite was a tiny, dark, stone walled, old cafe in a lane way in Rome, large covered mugs of rich, gooey hot chocolat and coffee with aromas to lift the senses. What is your favourite place to drink tea or coffee in?<br />
<br />
Have a lovely day,<br />
Vickixx</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-72912429075192009502011-06-07T17:27:00.000-07:002011-06-07T17:27:33.957-07:00Mirth.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBoeVYu_3x21EUKNNqBHjjkx_8jNEerEYRrF3Ib69lDfPhvmsAafkGpyiD5WlEteWyzkMix9qU0gxKz7e-s2btbNN0hyphenhyphenxxE8zvct6Km8bqJdNQ0r739VnAOq9g1fLD-L5lrksYqL9STmtZ/s1600/Picture+388.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBoeVYu_3x21EUKNNqBHjjkx_8jNEerEYRrF3Ib69lDfPhvmsAafkGpyiD5WlEteWyzkMix9qU0gxKz7e-s2btbNN0hyphenhyphenxxE8zvct6Km8bqJdNQ0r739VnAOq9g1fLD-L5lrksYqL9STmtZ/s640/Picture+388.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Real Joy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Mirth...also known by her other names, joy, cheer, happiness, joviality, lightheartedness, delight, vivacity, merriment...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9ymOWx-l2yi5VVSZEJ8rEBMp9tSneM3nbAnPLalsSS4AOFJ94uQMnx-wh6CYKs_ZQGDJsUtU02fwrduCBhk-EQUiJyiN_C-nNLtFm68C0Y8ZrnIAxj24YN2J6jYPjyQXIw7BSv-61zZi/s1600/Picture+351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9ymOWx-l2yi5VVSZEJ8rEBMp9tSneM3nbAnPLalsSS4AOFJ94uQMnx-wh6CYKs_ZQGDJsUtU02fwrduCBhk-EQUiJyiN_C-nNLtFm68C0Y8ZrnIAxj24YN2J6jYPjyQXIw7BSv-61zZi/s640/Picture+351.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inspiration.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Everyday I try to wear this coat of organic happiness, to exude a simple joy and with that comes a paring down of our life. The world, the news, the push and shove of the academic pathway for the girls, the pressure to use minimal resources, to be informed, to keep up is not how I want to live. I want a simple life, to be able to give of what I can to contribute to the community and hold onto a quality of life that is in how we treat each other,how and what we eat, how we talk to each other, what we read, what we see and what we do.<br />
<br />
Often a legacy is not in tangible items. I have no antiques or expensive jewellery but I have a way of living that I hope my children will take with them into their future and that it will be there to shore them up if they need or want it.<br />
Here's hoping, always,<br />
<br />
Keep smiling,<br />
<br />
Vickixx</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-27050890968107122632011-06-03T16:56:00.000-07:002011-06-03T16:56:38.981-07:00Chill.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJW_wTTWvXVaz9ofUFQ3FCwwy-HSDVVYal4-zOhAlHkn8vs6Vnz6-FjPeR9xcxZ1yFa3Ocd28w92yZvL1PPWhWH3kVrLmNNWIHcxJ59GT0lBAXIlGMLrQQzyhgSFP27z3wxXWNZ9o7kED/s1600/Picture+590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJW_wTTWvXVaz9ofUFQ3FCwwy-HSDVVYal4-zOhAlHkn8vs6Vnz6-FjPeR9xcxZ1yFa3Ocd28w92yZvL1PPWhWH3kVrLmNNWIHcxJ59GT0lBAXIlGMLrQQzyhgSFP27z3wxXWNZ9o7kED/s640/Picture+590.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alpaca heaven. Berrima.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8p6CYCnee_GBzgTIk_klrprS7z1Rr8_5vWzYtR9zL1nXwLicaJMCbKdQulUsP9xO-RV2JdZ5EzOx6unOD3DpGdVbXZ1DyFfJG4YYboztdX93M26l8FvXXlYJLW5YYDKuUITW3xq9cYiy/s1600/Picture+587.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8p6CYCnee_GBzgTIk_klrprS7z1Rr8_5vWzYtR9zL1nXwLicaJMCbKdQulUsP9xO-RV2JdZ5EzOx6unOD3DpGdVbXZ1DyFfJG4YYboztdX93M26l8FvXXlYJLW5YYDKuUITW3xq9cYiy/s640/Picture+587.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're just visiting but would love to live here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21wUrJxDC1pTpfbPYGgc67hEpOr55_pNCy7jX89cWPZRbGncOXmhC62v-G7pd0ObPdZuyluvfdAkGTuapvKRblxF713MvpiDSiV4Xn4pG7i6fHirKZFbmKQVLuVoxhjnpY-o6XOiOlKOb/s1600/Picture+521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21wUrJxDC1pTpfbPYGgc67hEpOr55_pNCy7jX89cWPZRbGncOXmhC62v-G7pd0ObPdZuyluvfdAkGTuapvKRblxF713MvpiDSiV4Xn4pG7i6fHirKZFbmKQVLuVoxhjnpY-o6XOiOlKOb/s640/Picture+521.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaf blowers in Canberra, a regular morning sight.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtJryau6RmYUdKmITqIUGDoiFsizsiVT2Kq2L-IQ-62L_vBADbgtuW9j39TqynaxMQjak5PtbyLD2VAZXTgrVtsNgYX4mwwmo7sxdLEq0qp6WDRvMhmvM7ajP9UUZTrAHBgHavE7wbj4R/s1600/Picture+429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtJryau6RmYUdKmITqIUGDoiFsizsiVT2Kq2L-IQ-62L_vBADbgtuW9j39TqynaxMQjak5PtbyLD2VAZXTgrVtsNgYX4mwwmo7sxdLEq0qp6WDRvMhmvM7ajP9UUZTrAHBgHavE7wbj4R/s640/Picture+429.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kristian waiting for the horse.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TqC178HENTVN2bbG1_fQU5-AOrphJNarWsADKNU8_aqkrCMTCZ7Zoc1kyYY32HLC0Ii-w40NpXqLflVnMv7WlYj7OHc24OpKKNukDwZK9Ht8fnjLUPaXjlONO5uRNnGHaNJUFgFrf4Ir/s1600/Picture+369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TqC178HENTVN2bbG1_fQU5-AOrphJNarWsADKNU8_aqkrCMTCZ7Zoc1kyYY32HLC0Ii-w40NpXqLflVnMv7WlYj7OHc24OpKKNukDwZK9Ht8fnjLUPaXjlONO5uRNnGHaNJUFgFrf4Ir/s640/Picture+369.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With mum and Dad, big two.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3huoRwspgu85Sch0HX6FBXHNn4Hbiu89U0HMArRwK93U6YnKN3dAmckqPHXqCTx7pyMOrZnOoNoi4cwKj9nSZugHRqsMwj0F95rfeqd1xO_FhkFTRkRc65A2O7cHamXfJ1RXPOXe_UQe/s1600/Picture+382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3huoRwspgu85Sch0HX6FBXHNn4Hbiu89U0HMArRwK93U6YnKN3dAmckqPHXqCTx7pyMOrZnOoNoi4cwKj9nSZugHRqsMwj0F95rfeqd1xO_FhkFTRkRc65A2O7cHamXfJ1RXPOXe_UQe/s640/Picture+382.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Blessing of the Fleet parade</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4EDgeB5zS_hnrgsl6mko7JbSLNgghnQHDE9pHpMYL0FZ22rseXEmswnJZL6DubgF2DdDC6TaL3PfmEg5gBeZWDF38MK95CI6ec6BiNXhaE_sZJ1LpH14tcqe7iUs9TMTZLnsuHJtFgqSn/s1600/Picture+383.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4EDgeB5zS_hnrgsl6mko7JbSLNgghnQHDE9pHpMYL0FZ22rseXEmswnJZL6DubgF2DdDC6TaL3PfmEg5gBeZWDF38MK95CI6ec6BiNXhaE_sZJ1LpH14tcqe7iUs9TMTZLnsuHJtFgqSn/s640/Picture+383.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">20 cents for a slice of watermelon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Alex, Chantal and I have not long returned from a little tour of the Southern Highlands via a visit to Ulladulla to see daughter and sister Stephanie and grandson and nephew Kristian. It was so good to take leave, no more books and study for the girls, no more routine for me, just free days with no agenda. Delightful.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIW6fKGXYcv9hWKz_ApZ3ec-nujjnTfKbJEDrhEbxAYN15L2G_Td7r3_F50FYDUi1A5qr1dDNjN-M32AMMmrZ87BOWWhwOW8nUwq-_-Q4SiGOzIcfgRapxYL4qstT75GjQTfQSjrTImEm0/s1600/Picture+463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIW6fKGXYcv9hWKz_ApZ3ec-nujjnTfKbJEDrhEbxAYN15L2G_Td7r3_F50FYDUi1A5qr1dDNjN-M32AMMmrZ87BOWWhwOW8nUwq-_-Q4SiGOzIcfgRapxYL4qstT75GjQTfQSjrTImEm0/s640/Picture+463.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like mother, like son.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The days were deliciously crisp, the leaves crunched under foot, the wind rustled in the trees, the pine cones fell, the wool shops beckoned, the cafes sent out their aromas to lead us in, people smiled, talked, told me their stories, in one shop whilst looking for a toy owl for Kristian the lady owner told of her struggle in life with her son, her father asked her back home to live, on a big property, for over 4 years she struggled to regain all that she'd lost, she learnt to cook, to garden, to care for her son, to rest, now she has bought a shop and is working towards building some cottages for guests where she will cook organically from her garden. She smiled a lot. Another, a waitress, told of selling her restaurant and packing as she and her husband are moving to japan. She is excited to live in an embassy and to ski in Japan. A dream that has come true. <br />
</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhms7rkdNdzcViqp9EpSsvf9T8lqTVQ7zWEmjKroXurPAaaIzxeW2e_l_hFp4SKIxenjYZlJBoGlsDwVz7cyUiYae95z5loHfpX1Yfu5Lj9XFRKUjF4FsM7BtMM04Irx66woCASyGrFeN/s1600/Picture+591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhms7rkdNdzcViqp9EpSsvf9T8lqTVQ7zWEmjKroXurPAaaIzxeW2e_l_hFp4SKIxenjYZlJBoGlsDwVz7cyUiYae95z5loHfpX1Yfu5Lj9XFRKUjF4FsM7BtMM04Irx66woCASyGrFeN/s640/Picture+591.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alpaca warm.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm drawn to the cold climates, when the air is fresh and the cheeks are cold, it's there that I can think and process all my thoughts, not when the air is heavy with moisture and hot and the limbs drag. I love to start the day with porridge, to walk in mist and see the moss growing on stones, the houses that are a part of a town through always being there, tumble down walls, sometimes as in Tasmania the old milestones on the side of the road still in roman numerals. I need to feel part of what's gone before me.<br />
<br />
Thanks for visiting,<br />
have a lovely day,<br />
Vickixx</span></td></tr>
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</div></div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-87144615177848207382011-05-13T16:50:00.000-07:002011-05-13T16:50:12.052-07:00The Road Trip.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDFQwQmKIpP11mVPcTgkAc6N8Ejx6HejqDaODb9Dh3ZNcm8sXr99GwCyANRiOLv2fBnDdG0JyExZ3_UrDwpAXRm4NwdLKBckP0CEPPXJ_fDBIFf47Cxwo0pp9Y4hoJ4g6M15ZjAyUaaXLp/s1600/Picture+522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDFQwQmKIpP11mVPcTgkAc6N8Ejx6HejqDaODb9Dh3ZNcm8sXr99GwCyANRiOLv2fBnDdG0JyExZ3_UrDwpAXRm4NwdLKBckP0CEPPXJ_fDBIFf47Cxwo0pp9Y4hoJ4g6M15ZjAyUaaXLp/s320/Picture+522.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chantal, starting the trip with some apple purchases.This fruit shop sells a lot of wheat grass.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFd61d-IkrCjHF-AVVybifQ2Aoi2PDHPWLs76CpuHIhj2SM2V1XnxnYRFngsVLG4E2SWYhI1WKwy1KwReESSYBQeCGNH_JxCCvYUhKEXAPG5n2g02m0-7MQSwAfev_OPLnWXMOCU7DyOTU/s1600/Picture+585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFd61d-IkrCjHF-AVVybifQ2Aoi2PDHPWLs76CpuHIhj2SM2V1XnxnYRFngsVLG4E2SWYhI1WKwy1KwReESSYBQeCGNH_JxCCvYUhKEXAPG5n2g02m0-7MQSwAfev_OPLnWXMOCU7DyOTU/s320/Picture+585.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At a rest area, 100 miles from no-where.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr49icPofgxnbXAauIc2KXTlP2Pi44k1ui7vbIhthr_0vrvsvvPRI37P4_JVgd0S1zcyc5AOemXy_Tf4MV8Devh960BfJ3M_t_U-NoI8CRCNAsI48uQc4LTbtzUSe8T5iUjg5oBgIATmP8/s1600/Picture+339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr49icPofgxnbXAauIc2KXTlP2Pi44k1ui7vbIhthr_0vrvsvvPRI37P4_JVgd0S1zcyc5AOemXy_Tf4MV8Devh960BfJ3M_t_U-NoI8CRCNAsI48uQc4LTbtzUSe8T5iUjg5oBgIATmP8/s320/Picture+339.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off we go.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcX2uS2iPUNYT2nlDEcWz_3mH-GN4loP4i2qnWvXbLLaNy5piZzHzWcw43yXj-wFJVQiMbvLtU62391MyR75y_SY9U8VI3xHpCUc2HPYAwve7TzKafDihTRBeIDnKhpXYoGhvDJfsznOu/s1600/Picture+324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcX2uS2iPUNYT2nlDEcWz_3mH-GN4loP4i2qnWvXbLLaNy5piZzHzWcw43yXj-wFJVQiMbvLtU62391MyR75y_SY9U8VI3xHpCUc2HPYAwve7TzKafDihTRBeIDnKhpXYoGhvDJfsznOu/s320/Picture+324.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second hand bookshop in rural QLD.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The girls and I have just returned from a 3,000k trip to see our daughter and sister. From Queensland to Ulladulla. From Ulladulla to Canberra. And off on some side roads. Endless undulating sugar cane, merging lanes, narrow bridges, wide rivers, road works, country towns, endless bush, caravans, coffee stops, trucks, petrol stations selling local honey and eggs and assorted weather.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFP3GVc8o6QyT4xWFmAaSUEGyDbz4uDT9COCXXkRKwp2NhmnUQHOev3RrYlbIVoZugrfufupSMq3_KGBURxedBCG8GVcmqAFouDXOrA8UNcBP6C-WWjBpNQE0bSOJ9LlgmWtMRmdQSMb1Y/s1600/Picture+335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFP3GVc8o6QyT4xWFmAaSUEGyDbz4uDT9COCXXkRKwp2NhmnUQHOev3RrYlbIVoZugrfufupSMq3_KGBURxedBCG8GVcmqAFouDXOrA8UNcBP6C-WWjBpNQE0bSOJ9LlgmWtMRmdQSMb1Y/s320/Picture+335.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sugar cane, smoking tractor in distance.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-aAuoNiyR30Gt9IqmO3BoVQNwBaF9Iqsqd11rw01TEM0Gw34g83TMRFxKADpLuE771lNofh-BK5992aKoNzAhM0hTyNJxTg5hNA9Nra6nKG7bZfmBz2SHVVR7EpBUYEJ7MAb_5_RxBGM/s1600/Picture+404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-aAuoNiyR30Gt9IqmO3BoVQNwBaF9Iqsqd11rw01TEM0Gw34g83TMRFxKADpLuE771lNofh-BK5992aKoNzAhM0hTyNJxTg5hNA9Nra6nKG7bZfmBz2SHVVR7EpBUYEJ7MAb_5_RxBGM/s320/Picture+404.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rural Berry</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFP3GVc8o6QyT4xWFmAaSUEGyDbz4uDT9COCXXkRKwp2NhmnUQHOev3RrYlbIVoZugrfufupSMq3_KGBURxedBCG8GVcmqAFouDXOrA8UNcBP6C-WWjBpNQE0bSOJ9LlgmWtMRmdQSMb1Y/s1600/Picture+335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizatGBIZsDXf2pJtC3BRUBrXiNWS4y5JwY9sIvaB3veRJOBXECRw_qnQVoMYgN-3Fl6ZttZpdjSRQtFpstUfdmwepZDVBFoIFtnQ4DbgIk1x0zcjCbuIZUwx4GA6Svl0L100eLQLlJGknB/s1600/Picture+357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizatGBIZsDXf2pJtC3BRUBrXiNWS4y5JwY9sIvaB3veRJOBXECRw_qnQVoMYgN-3Fl6ZttZpdjSRQtFpstUfdmwepZDVBFoIFtnQ4DbgIk1x0zcjCbuIZUwx4GA6Svl0L100eLQLlJGknB/s320/Picture+357.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rain coming at Berry.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37S4EGEEYtZmIgn0grt4vijocMFRdaDZQhQAIdxFbPfiLN6nQbBigutLh8GtNeflT7PicOuN-eWxO6St1pfWsGW3achCXEhU1btkaD0cY_VwHbNcvpdd5qd9bIQSktsqJGikaEenAPxP-/s1600/Picture+653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37S4EGEEYtZmIgn0grt4vijocMFRdaDZQhQAIdxFbPfiLN6nQbBigutLh8GtNeflT7PicOuN-eWxO6St1pfWsGW3achCXEhU1btkaD0cY_VwHbNcvpdd5qd9bIQSktsqJGikaEenAPxP-/s320/Picture+653.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Veggie pie for breakfast from Kempsey, enough for lunch too.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnYFbedjU200hIeu7zOO7B6ZUnM37Q0eFRkJTY-Xw773_JMB9ATrITNdX66lM5qigAO6S-7hBG32bhwXJXlPjo6O0nskJHKLcf3kiYppBFVgpi6mszmMxUwxXMnN5S_dc_fzH6hpaDat-/s1600/Picture+323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnYFbedjU200hIeu7zOO7B6ZUnM37Q0eFRkJTY-Xw773_JMB9ATrITNdX66lM5qigAO6S-7hBG32bhwXJXlPjo6O0nskJHKLcf3kiYppBFVgpi6mszmMxUwxXMnN5S_dc_fzH6hpaDat-/s320/Picture+323.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basil growing in the park, old B&B in background.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbPImt7OKMm7z_x8uzjU5f5lSsX8V0quMJ18La5gf5kZF2bmfXdkUA5vlcLSBClUH5v4g1vFpooy_llz6EFCMNJRgN4SBlNn6FYP4HzBKBszNwg66YYYNdI7jYC6-fOw6WT7ThjcA99i1/s1600/Picture+654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbPImt7OKMm7z_x8uzjU5f5lSsX8V0quMJ18La5gf5kZF2bmfXdkUA5vlcLSBClUH5v4g1vFpooy_llz6EFCMNJRgN4SBlNn6FYP4HzBKBszNwg66YYYNdI7jYC6-fOw6WT7ThjcA99i1/s320/Picture+654.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maclean, 1862, Street signs all have Gaelic translations</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFawWQEEwHxLoMosnbg-yGqSQlkyWpQ6_FlOixc9BT7ZLSe8gPviAvZl3tVhcajyO-HHZlj0IcuEOzd_g73Nszg8gSfimjsaIjjrRArT9o3bBxKzryEJSBOSOKp-k3aJ8n4Czu5bCFgq3/s1600/Picture+656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFawWQEEwHxLoMosnbg-yGqSQlkyWpQ6_FlOixc9BT7ZLSe8gPviAvZl3tVhcajyO-HHZlj0IcuEOzd_g73Nszg8gSfimjsaIjjrRArT9o3bBxKzryEJSBOSOKp-k3aJ8n4Czu5bCFgq3/s320/Picture+656.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweetness growing right up to the roads' edge, taken whilst waiting for road works. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.focusstorage.com/gallery/cassegrain1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://www.focusstorage.com/gallery/cassegrain1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Food and wine, even a BBQ.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We have our favorite stops, the park on the river at Ulmarra that the locals plant with herbs, roses, pansies and whatever is in season, it has a very kitch second hand bookshop that also sells collectibles, even some religious items that look as if they've come from a convent. Maclean, the Scottish town, where every telepole has a clan tartan painted on it and you'll always get a smile from the locals. Little Italy, the rest stop that gives you a huge veranda covered in grape vines to eat your pasta and drink your coffee as you gaze at the murals of Florence and Milan, more herb gardens and a little museum of the early days. Cassograin Winery, where we think we're in France, a formal garden, roses to take your breath away, the best coffee on the east coast and somewhere to throw a ball.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-aAuoNiyR30Gt9IqmO3BoVQNwBaF9Iqsqd11rw01TEM0Gw34g83TMRFxKADpLuE771lNofh-BK5992aKoNzAhM0hTyNJxTg5hNA9Nra6nKG7bZfmBz2SHVVR7EpBUYEJ7MAb_5_RxBGM/s1600/Picture+404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-aAuoNiyR30Gt9IqmO3BoVQNwBaF9Iqsqd11rw01TEM0Gw34g83TMRFxKADpLuE771lNofh-BK5992aKoNzAhM0hTyNJxTg5hNA9Nra6nKG7bZfmBz2SHVVR7EpBUYEJ7MAb_5_RxBGM/s320/Picture+404.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back street of Berry</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0op4qxfNH-HI8lgf5WoI5REreQYcS7M56zdIaUiTLAL7xx3rwVz7IVpY3wXN628jTaD7P2bBz837DL1oq3OvASDWS77xT9pCCBnvkp7FVvRMW1iE1Dd7eV47aFhJuaT2ydos34WMLV44k/s1600/Picture+396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0op4qxfNH-HI8lgf5WoI5REreQYcS7M56zdIaUiTLAL7xx3rwVz7IVpY3wXN628jTaD7P2bBz837DL1oq3OvASDWS77xT9pCCBnvkp7FVvRMW1iE1Dd7eV47aFhJuaT2ydos34WMLV44k/s320/Picture+396.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex doing what she loves, perusing bookshops.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHfXhV1szgzfVGCcesK81sZbMm9v3ttFySBxx7uLTF5WFI6F2Isdf0PT2eNJ3-wpj8XtQuFqx7UjP-mbm_lWJ2hOIItaIGIZ5HdqnLdg7hEPdHNs-xlelf62xZ58RK8aOIAybzoKZukDg/s1600/Picture+348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHfXhV1szgzfVGCcesK81sZbMm9v3ttFySBxx7uLTF5WFI6F2Isdf0PT2eNJ3-wpj8XtQuFqx7UjP-mbm_lWJ2hOIItaIGIZ5HdqnLdg7hEPdHNs-xlelf62xZ58RK8aOIAybzoKZukDg/s320/Picture+348.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Last stop, Bonjour Patissere, Wahonga, coffee and cake. All the cute, pampered little dogies were out in force, the owners have their coffee brought to them along with a dogie bowl of water. Such is the life of a city dog.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And now we're home. Our adventure is over, I don't think we'll be repeating it for a while as life has changed, University next year. Our routine is firmly back in place. Chantal's 15th birthday tomorrow. What to get this youngest daughter who insists that she has everything she needs and doesn't want a thing? Except maybe an Agatha Christie book. I can't complain at all.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hope everyone is well, thanks for stopping,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Vickixx</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-65654876114018494342011-04-16T21:03:00.000-07:002011-04-16T21:03:30.309-07:00Art for arts' sake.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcScaGuVUE0uq5eRb-KYx01TgtS9H5lwtpxnobQO_U0R-P_Sy0hWrQ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcScaGuVUE0uq5eRb-KYx01TgtS9H5lwtpxnobQO_U0R-P_Sy0hWrQ" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethel Carrick's 'French Flower Market, 1909.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>There have been thousands of opinions expressed about art but I like this quote by John Updike, American writer and Art Critic...<br />
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What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-5dzMJEOKvGTmdJGw1A63W43j76NFxck6Cl0TVTpgEyUytUao60MEl-yjJu73VZJscMWegq-wr39sbPNaTu-hjI4j-WNM8Y25DMWPJZkwsLJ42rUT7RvNbYY43GpsJzqGSlJg5uPjxHg/s1600/Picture+286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-5dzMJEOKvGTmdJGw1A63W43j76NFxck6Cl0TVTpgEyUytUao60MEl-yjJu73VZJscMWegq-wr39sbPNaTu-hjI4j-WNM8Y25DMWPJZkwsLJ42rUT7RvNbYY43GpsJzqGSlJg5uPjxHg/s320/Picture+286.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chantal taking in the space of the outside area.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And so with a need to breathe, just for a few hours, we made our way to the Art Gallery in Brisbane.<br />
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The exhibition was titled, Art, Love and Life, the works of Ethel Carrick and E. Phillips Fox. What a gifted couple, studying at the Paris and London Academies, mixing with the impressionists, what a bohemian life, living in Paris at the turn of the 19th Century, painting the market and beach scenes, the flowers, the children, traveling around Europe, they had marriage, love, art, adventure and space for the spirit....but only for ten years, when sadly and to soon Emanuel passed away at age 50.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In summer the tree on the right is abundant with frangipanis. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.worldgallery.co.uk/i/prints/rw/lg/1/0/Emanuel-Phillips-Fox-The-Arbour-101718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://images.worldgallery.co.uk/i/prints/rw/lg/1/0/Emanuel-Phillips-Fox-The-Arbour-101718.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Arbour. E Phillips Fox. The little boy in the sailor suit, Len Fox, was his nephew, well known Australian Journalist, Artist and social activist who lived in Kings Cross with his wife for 50 years.<br />
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</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQiSEUKUNWbrxiQg8uZJHTzr-Q4ZHT_VVLRYDgUoBI2VMDHRxDJXQ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQiSEUKUNWbrxiQg8uZJHTzr-Q4ZHT_VVLRYDgUoBI2VMDHRxDJXQ" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.whatsonwhen.com/frommers/196/339691-I-BG-38353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://media.whatsonwhen.com/frommers/196/339691-I-BG-38353.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi726nsZWHKY2RbZql7muwI3ZfQ4r_vNu-wGQSzF81Igr5sCyMGrYcLCy33PsQyoOE-ux9t_Q3jEV2zMGlGqVBniR5I24PryzE90KDdCpk2z8MHDwFitds2E3AaeRvaD2ogc3RPbDiE_0mi/s1600/Picture+297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi726nsZWHKY2RbZql7muwI3ZfQ4r_vNu-wGQSzF81Igr5sCyMGrYcLCy33PsQyoOE-ux9t_Q3jEV2zMGlGqVBniR5I24PryzE90KDdCpk2z8MHDwFitds2E3AaeRvaD2ogc3RPbDiE_0mi/s320/Picture+297.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>I loved the furniture exhibits, Chantal loved the sculpture gallery and Alexandria loves, loves the masters.<br />
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When our senses had had a little polish and our need to paint was at it's peak we sought out the shop for my little passion...bookmarks. The shop has jewellery, books, stationary, cute things, ceramics and glassware, fragile and delicate, the purest of colour, truly objects to be admired if not used.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNGxUmICDXjKfb0Z3LMwAQV3r1aokfnSvdD3Vw_YiiM7DdG2FUakT4N12CPuRKKahKK7rXGxVhA_B3MeChP_fI6QFar0PU48IPo8sn8n4rH2SO48NAiHjIjhGlmOmkJV6GAltUM-aJjSj/s1600/Picture+301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNGxUmICDXjKfb0Z3LMwAQV3r1aokfnSvdD3Vw_YiiM7DdG2FUakT4N12CPuRKKahKK7rXGxVhA_B3MeChP_fI6QFar0PU48IPo8sn8n4rH2SO48NAiHjIjhGlmOmkJV6GAltUM-aJjSj/s320/Picture+301.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf03vrvQ09t39nm4b6GwQXw6KTzBCSb0rJBc53JwpWVuNutBxoBcX9wnNWyMLb_CaFtOWccrVkMYhwBXwkSn5avV0tudXZEkZxp9J0uwAiUO6pOgIsgypgMl1E_2vIyFaUhA4DfRxhfdz/s1600/Picture+300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf03vrvQ09t39nm4b6GwQXw6KTzBCSb0rJBc53JwpWVuNutBxoBcX9wnNWyMLb_CaFtOWccrVkMYhwBXwkSn5avV0tudXZEkZxp9J0uwAiUO6pOgIsgypgMl1E_2vIyFaUhA4DfRxhfdz/s320/Picture+300.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.brewed-coffee.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/explorations-cafe-maasdam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://www.brewed-coffee.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/explorations-cafe-maasdam.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch in the cafe.</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I don't know if any other teenagers do this but whenever we are out, at lunch, sitting quietly, the girls make up stories about people who walk past, a serious looking young man in dark jeans, dark bomber jacket and thick grey scarf was to Alexandria a highly intelligent Romanian orphan who teaches the violin and who seeks out art to satisfy his love for it, inherited from his grandfather,who was a famous portrait painter, a 50-something couple in stylish clothes were to Chantal fashion designers from Copenhagen, she an ex-model, who live in a minimalist apartment, here in Australian to arrange an exhibition of their innovative designs at the gallery and possibly to purchase some property...etc, etc. Imagination is a great thing!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYyz-vhfHdYY_KZxUyfWH-bx4WD5360oIG5xss1XUx64wnn24-V1zWpmI7blNHr0faOuCy2vWXJUBVBdq_UV-z7XBCdK8O-8GF44PKG_1aWuW5Z27DhxvTzWchsnmWetyoYm8beyhCX0uh/s1600/Picture+310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYyz-vhfHdYY_KZxUyfWH-bx4WD5360oIG5xss1XUx64wnn24-V1zWpmI7blNHr0faOuCy2vWXJUBVBdq_UV-z7XBCdK8O-8GF44PKG_1aWuW5Z27DhxvTzWchsnmWetyoYm8beyhCX0uh/s320/Picture+310.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...then home to the paints...we had a good time.<br />
Thanks for visiting<br />
Vickixx<br />
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</tbody></table></div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-19967768686313459812011-04-12T00:34:00.000-07:002011-04-12T00:34:39.151-07:00A Day in the Life.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">These days are always bright and sunny. They start off early, end late, in between morphs into a timeless mass. Sometimes I get to visit the library at the girls school and read, all the interesting books, my favorite being in the education and medical sections. If I'm treating myself I'll stay a long time.....<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzm2gf_BNhD8Dcehv7t_WwZRp1Aqyvw_O4Z8QCnKmSeo-YpmlphyphenhyphenXeJWbUim4amxQeow-KiY94ZUvtisuV9TnZg5WZRBLN2Pp1NX8uN4-rJIreOkJMFcYoJglFMHWHg1sTBE4iG9dxGkj/s1600/Picture+153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzm2gf_BNhD8Dcehv7t_WwZRp1Aqyvw_O4Z8QCnKmSeo-YpmlphyphenhyphenXeJWbUim4amxQeow-KiY94ZUvtisuV9TnZg5WZRBLN2Pp1NX8uN4-rJIreOkJMFcYoJglFMHWHg1sTBE4iG9dxGkj/s320/Picture+153.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drop daughters at school</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNq2f64P4zNVsX-r7y5F4JJrJHpixq-RT36y5EuDepSwIXY3ztCWbvzlu4gl5ac78NNlqmdy2ld_hstcLNRrmoHT_oeYBw-5E3AXNLb2COyzrRWHUgqJdHBc3dcVKQw1zZHH3gp1x8c-L/s1600/Picture+213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNq2f64P4zNVsX-r7y5F4JJrJHpixq-RT36y5EuDepSwIXY3ztCWbvzlu4gl5ac78NNlqmdy2ld_hstcLNRrmoHT_oeYBw-5E3AXNLb2COyzrRWHUgqJdHBc3dcVKQw1zZHH3gp1x8c-L/s320/Picture+213.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">quick visit to library to read for an hour</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgwJIrEcozDspH1ElrqF6lnK0hAGDAS_pRJi9iMt8PSveqhhbEl-h4jSdAXiqdicmYFIUijTKyFGqlVJl5Q6jiq30GPDT-PUqmQLfW7nqDoDuq4xDrttgsdlB_8qNEjLw7eIuaM5naNSU/s1600/Picture+263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgwJIrEcozDspH1ElrqF6lnK0hAGDAS_pRJi9iMt8PSveqhhbEl-h4jSdAXiqdicmYFIUijTKyFGqlVJl5Q6jiq30GPDT-PUqmQLfW7nqDoDuq4xDrttgsdlB_8qNEjLw7eIuaM5naNSU/s320/Picture+263.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To the market</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAmEMgwdrh3PE_vhr8d2BZKX3q2-4152V-yNGuUSbzVpbMYowjkX6nem-A2MZiZC_gAVi4D6YcZu31ostLiZ5RCiaKHjVODkBQGer78XoSzrFuByInW52-_v7UbWa5JoWK4ycpTUawP7Pt/s1600/Picture+269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAmEMgwdrh3PE_vhr8d2BZKX3q2-4152V-yNGuUSbzVpbMYowjkX6nem-A2MZiZC_gAVi4D6YcZu31ostLiZ5RCiaKHjVODkBQGer78XoSzrFuByInW52-_v7UbWa5JoWK4ycpTUawP7Pt/s320/Picture+269.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What's for tea?chose away.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTW-up4i8DOYptpceJq5t1FjWBZt5vUnl00rAIp2kQbiCcpGGeI3UcYRVZ8X2Y-DJIaGLawD0glHLkSEIO9qwgyHL6blIdrpmZFqNSBswJ4Fjdxxb6tkSR5f-c8wBdz7MRgK-0J_t5dIZ/s1600/Picture+265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTW-up4i8DOYptpceJq5t1FjWBZt5vUnl00rAIp2kQbiCcpGGeI3UcYRVZ8X2Y-DJIaGLawD0glHLkSEIO9qwgyHL6blIdrpmZFqNSBswJ4Fjdxxb6tkSR5f-c8wBdz7MRgK-0J_t5dIZ/s320/Picture+265.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Real bread</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIedDO5IF4vD-rQukFw8WUpIADKqCDzY4MCe_Fi1A-rFEnHIYGCv5kcVs28jEVzqc19eH4K0BJSDBdunY7mwKTJmOUOOU3y-Q7lQQXGwRpbwziXNRj3NLMl1kdvdQLbJrmseXxdUeCYLR/s1600/Picture+275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIedDO5IF4vD-rQukFw8WUpIADKqCDzY4MCe_Fi1A-rFEnHIYGCv5kcVs28jEVzqc19eH4K0BJSDBdunY7mwKTJmOUOOU3y-Q7lQQXGwRpbwziXNRj3NLMl1kdvdQLbJrmseXxdUeCYLR/s320/Picture+275.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Real coffee</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzQ-YcJXKrKitnySAQS9XFs-hUrYQeodBcFnIhzZEqFKWY35sLDhmqNGsWKw-ZWzbMm7Kt13ldhze82Rhd1V41WjpwDCp4xY_j5R05wA1ZS0apL1DGJtRPvD7fPXzqw71Yn9ktUG2m8QA/s1600/Picture+281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzQ-YcJXKrKitnySAQS9XFs-hUrYQeodBcFnIhzZEqFKWY35sLDhmqNGsWKw-ZWzbMm7Kt13ldhze82Rhd1V41WjpwDCp4xY_j5R05wA1ZS0apL1DGJtRPvD7fPXzqw71Yn9ktUG2m8QA/s320/Picture+281.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orchids in the shopping centre.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImVHXE1oCGjIH6hZTrVuIOblNvMDPTF8nDqpg3_3z_TwRVA6sRtdXoDumVqStmmR_xJQ7d4Ji2ll7YpwT8nWrhmlEcll8H-By75U1hF_FGN2niIQI6iBwK_Q6uJgeAyMfzmsYl2a41rr2/s1600/Picture+277.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImVHXE1oCGjIH6hZTrVuIOblNvMDPTF8nDqpg3_3z_TwRVA6sRtdXoDumVqStmmR_xJQ7d4Ji2ll7YpwT8nWrhmlEcll8H-By75U1hF_FGN2niIQI6iBwK_Q6uJgeAyMfzmsYl2a41rr2/s320/Picture+277.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into the paper shop for some white willow branches</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYznwG5OXWHnYxAcvaC3xjmOSURnHQbpF84NUONdH9QQYTFrbh4ge_DuMLvEg1Id4I3c2urBqf1s-pa84SOOPVFbtirwVilT9noWQ1hlsjGG-QWdI0BGf3pLb1Qyj5KdtYUABch0yYbreL/s1600/Picture+283.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYznwG5OXWHnYxAcvaC3xjmOSURnHQbpF84NUONdH9QQYTFrbh4ge_DuMLvEg1Id4I3c2urBqf1s-pa84SOOPVFbtirwVilT9noWQ1hlsjGG-QWdI0BGf3pLb1Qyj5KdtYUABch0yYbreL/s320/Picture+283.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby rockmelons and passionfruit</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6hNEzObabuNd71TvcfyJw38TZEGLzMHOpSjktXNliacvQD7RSBZWCfYqYLA9uW54T1p0ox13F_J_MbkEWxHQDqP7s0ka2KBc8DZr2ccEQeahBVsLwG9HKXzrKHb1dn2ekXIgPOmD2j98/s1600/Picture+284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6hNEzObabuNd71TvcfyJw38TZEGLzMHOpSjktXNliacvQD7RSBZWCfYqYLA9uW54T1p0ox13F_J_MbkEWxHQDqP7s0ka2KBc8DZr2ccEQeahBVsLwG9HKXzrKHb1dn2ekXIgPOmD2j98/s320/Picture+284.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reply to my dear friend and a new bookmark swap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
If I ever wonder again what I do with my days I'll just take some photos. Work for family is very gratifying and I love being a cog in the wheel of the last two at home. With some flown the nest I know how quickly this time will go so I'm enjoying every day, every week and storing lots of memories.<br />
<br />
I'm becoming aware of not wasting time, someone said to me last week, a person who had been in a wheel chair for 24 years due to a car crash...I've been sitting down for 24 years....those words still resonate within me, I can't get them out of my head, Wayne said, I'd just like to get up and walk again, sometimes it's the most unexpected encounters that reach the heart.<br />
<br />
Thanks for dropping in,<br />
Vickixx </div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-44518223670071755242011-04-09T06:07:00.000-07:002011-04-09T06:07:02.123-07:00Off the Highway and up the Mountain.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3uk1MB1vgKVk6QSPsN5U29kB9jyFZPkLjkoRT097Vh8w-qcFrXcoog8y9cAzqXD17Pp5JYIfQNe9bw7uT17JzsZQVJqzWE_egY9WUpfMT7Za-bwH0-h9xiAn-yYrIe35aAW2vGrf8nJN/s1600/DSCF0599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3uk1MB1vgKVk6QSPsN5U29kB9jyFZPkLjkoRT097Vh8w-qcFrXcoog8y9cAzqXD17Pp5JYIfQNe9bw7uT17JzsZQVJqzWE_egY9WUpfMT7Za-bwH0-h9xiAn-yYrIe35aAW2vGrf8nJN/s320/DSCF0599.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lillies taken over the pond.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJD2rC2qUwsoG5HZ4k1DvYtzvP0pssKBgeTUcwqmFa9WvsnjFE5UYQ5xk9qPHU8YvnmNe7bPiNZTsIwOpzjuRhQuuy1yvji8RfB0OWV-HdBSWQ7wyfyQFzjvxDOnqEtxvt_ok9tqgnTlH/s1600/DSCF0596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJD2rC2qUwsoG5HZ4k1DvYtzvP0pssKBgeTUcwqmFa9WvsnjFE5UYQ5xk9qPHU8YvnmNe7bPiNZTsIwOpzjuRhQuuy1yvji8RfB0OWV-HdBSWQ7wyfyQFzjvxDOnqEtxvt_ok9tqgnTlH/s320/DSCF0596.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A shed that sits easily on the earth</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvQma2cifjyFPoHrzM0ijZMERvinK9FiNctOcJvk6cXxjBrywxWo9F1nUFf_aj1wA9kuE5FuDoAHOqBslsiICVi1cxPnDQEH6ZihPQ38X2m7hYnO_EjsVRNbNeuUYnMgeIZF1RvSNgdLj/s1600/DSCF0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvQma2cifjyFPoHrzM0ijZMERvinK9FiNctOcJvk6cXxjBrywxWo9F1nUFf_aj1wA9kuE5FuDoAHOqBslsiICVi1cxPnDQEH6ZihPQ38X2m7hYnO_EjsVRNbNeuUYnMgeIZF1RvSNgdLj/s320/DSCF0600.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road just wide enough</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love driving off into the west, into the bush, finding little towns, parks, walking trails and streams. I love the wide streets, houses with huge backyards with jasmine and grape vines, the older style shops with cute curtains and tables with little bunches of herbs or roses from the garden that advertise coffee and home made cake for $5, the wild flowers, the way birds sit on the cows backs, the sunset colours across the paddocks, leaving the return home late and seeing all the lights come on in the homesteads, giving them that welcome glow and somtimes smoke curling from chimneys. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so a trip up to Tambourine Mountain Botanical Gardens was in order. Ten minutes from the highway the houses gave way to large hobby farms, the air was fresh and the grass was green. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hfev1gLjAxyC9TH6qkG4hwuXSFOhZZJ_EU3yeUnUMgPs-HVSWuQsRA2lbAR-Joz9vTByx9-fj5z2sNDT9ReMO_gDlxi4OsGkSwxKIP2Gz4ZbZS7Wi3mrhFz7TUdtIhNr4MSsowZTfF2T/s1600/DSCF0605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hfev1gLjAxyC9TH6qkG4hwuXSFOhZZJ_EU3yeUnUMgPs-HVSWuQsRA2lbAR-Joz9vTByx9-fj5z2sNDT9ReMO_gDlxi4OsGkSwxKIP2Gz4ZbZS7Wi3mrhFz7TUdtIhNr4MSsowZTfF2T/s320/DSCF0605.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A smattering of homes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1AJBUh5-rxOS2VQBkTq2qKg5Qjl2zKKx1HYvmhqmMZzjGkfK5kX-mS5ZcHxoesVgBRlEQ6O-JSMTNKr0sChvjBe3Ue_FvQOjL_rFGeubJKVWAxJwTLs-qw7ZysXpVdr42YsWy7TWqGo3E/s1600/DSCF0655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1AJBUh5-rxOS2VQBkTq2qKg5Qjl2zKKx1HYvmhqmMZzjGkfK5kX-mS5ZcHxoesVgBRlEQ6O-JSMTNKr0sChvjBe3Ue_FvQOjL_rFGeubJKVWAxJwTLs-qw7ZysXpVdr42YsWy7TWqGo3E/s320/DSCF0655.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This house sits on the boundary of the Botanical Gardens</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68_O3lr2Sm5RqMicCk9-9MXMRKNMJ6-1AqNlEsSrCGg8EMXFqKZQoYwQ1hp7T2DWmEdxw8jm1S7zYf7yFaxtvPQEWdEXZbJeHstkgfedK0xAbccZpNfgwBgTo3VA-JdYg4DI3ehqt1qT-/s1600/DSCF0641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68_O3lr2Sm5RqMicCk9-9MXMRKNMJ6-1AqNlEsSrCGg8EMXFqKZQoYwQ1hp7T2DWmEdxw8jm1S7zYf7yFaxtvPQEWdEXZbJeHstkgfedK0xAbccZpNfgwBgTo3VA-JdYg4DI3ehqt1qT-/s320/DSCF0641.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It overlooks tall palms and a little steam.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95HuaxwzCWVq92-d0xgIw244CKgH4JxIqsevuxw1XDbgS07ODoTWw9DgC_V2zURsLH8Mw8FggGX3Jh9gJCFfbF08uXK3S1EBH9vqboTnnBIBV0lwWYwZjcAP35KTdk1vOXTDO2qgFtKyp/s1600/DSCF0671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95HuaxwzCWVq92-d0xgIw244CKgH4JxIqsevuxw1XDbgS07ODoTWw9DgC_V2zURsLH8Mw8FggGX3Jh9gJCFfbF08uXK3S1EBH9vqboTnnBIBV0lwWYwZjcAP35KTdk1vOXTDO2qgFtKyp/s320/DSCF0671.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the Tranquility Gardens.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbV72eIp5C-jB9dM-_gW8fhIh-TbvVS2s-Vyrgufx6rX0QOA14A_9si11hBNnjc07ejjKa2QAcHPGsRvaajSjrWhnVU5UAG9xL46TI8bHvVUJDd0skXDq_kFhp56PwaJsOVOsameGjcYaj/s1600/DSCF0625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbV72eIp5C-jB9dM-_gW8fhIh-TbvVS2s-Vyrgufx6rX0QOA14A_9si11hBNnjc07ejjKa2QAcHPGsRvaajSjrWhnVU5UAG9xL46TI8bHvVUJDd0skXDq_kFhp56PwaJsOVOsameGjcYaj/s320/DSCF0625.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bamboo Walk at a nursery on the mountain.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Nature is so intricate, so complex, vibrant, breathtakingly beautiful, nourishing, surprising, constant, calming...there is no need nor inclination to hurry, think quickly, plan ahead, no, just to walk and take it in is reward enough.<br />
I'll be back!<br />
<br />
Thanks for stopping by,<br />
Vickixx</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-51844426610941094682011-03-08T20:58:00.000-08:002011-03-08T20:58:30.339-08:00Health and Holidays, grateful day 14.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYGdRlHmDHBdJjzZF_dRx4kmPV6XVNsh1myuIWw3lWxh0NS711lutaSqe6TuyXxQoQOTi__HdAi4IuZZ0bZ5RyfgBtgRi6aXqaOwMDc_6EnrLV-Ba8B9DV27RFWlIk43f31bZLfTD-cwO/s1600/DSC_0129%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYGdRlHmDHBdJjzZF_dRx4kmPV6XVNsh1myuIWw3lWxh0NS711lutaSqe6TuyXxQoQOTi__HdAi4IuZZ0bZ5RyfgBtgRi6aXqaOwMDc_6EnrLV-Ba8B9DV27RFWlIk43f31bZLfTD-cwO/s400/DSC_0129%25281%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banyan Figs, New Farm Park, Brisbane.<br />
These trees watch the children at play in the amazing park. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ktnw00o96VtdPhVeGqUurFE3meGW3VHj1HidFQWQoL596kxz1XZDy9zerFK78YvijHFdtDG33IFQoc8nI4fPWuwJ-_rf5YbvfeJzSirSjlaH4n74sp3Wsr-PXACnur9R_frlYI5FYAx5/s1600/N+Bay+House+035a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ktnw00o96VtdPhVeGqUurFE3meGW3VHj1HidFQWQoL596kxz1XZDy9zerFK78YvijHFdtDG33IFQoc8nI4fPWuwJ-_rf5YbvfeJzSirSjlaH4n74sp3Wsr-PXACnur9R_frlYI5FYAx5/s400/N+Bay+House+035a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chantal contemplating</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The more I think about being grateful the more I realize that I have taken some aspects of my life for granted. My children's health is vitally important to me, their physical, emotional and mental health, I strive to make sure they eat healthily, I give them extra nutrients, fresh foods, I don't factor fast foods into our diet at all, if we travel by car I prepare food to take. I also keep an eye on their sleep, I try to make sure that they are well rested, there's a lot for the brain to take in at school. I also try to keep a balance with a calm, happy and peaceful home life, I play beautiful music across the spectrum, I burn fragrant oils, I have flowers or palms from the garden, I display books every week, just for interest, I plan days out at the theatre, the art gallery, the botanical gardens but yet I don't consciously acknowledge my thanks. At school, with friends, just going about the typical day brings them into contact with all sorts of stressors, especially now as the girls are in their final year of schooling, the pressure is on the get the passes for the University courses they want to get into. Everything just works so well when we are healthy but rarely do I give it more thought than that until I see people who are challenged with health problems and that's when I feel humble and grateful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwyTz_2B19QVnpclixZVBqjnMqgDa-9Ybv5bKfKREvItZkYhdxYk7dH9pvjOHI_GFLSkJgKgmX8cUZaUVblDnjNJJI1e_yyjLBbFEpNWtYqrn-HYHLsGSggXtyUOH4H7TiIJtWAvbwziG/s1600/N+Bay+House+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwyTz_2B19QVnpclixZVBqjnMqgDa-9Ybv5bKfKREvItZkYhdxYk7dH9pvjOHI_GFLSkJgKgmX8cUZaUVblDnjNJJI1e_yyjLBbFEpNWtYqrn-HYHLsGSggXtyUOH4H7TiIJtWAvbwziG/s400/N+Bay+House+036.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alexandria with shells.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOm3kSXoDY9x1btXTtoVH7t1OEaarNiFeizuzHOPVCKsG2JrGA9lU5fV0Iys_rzpHn3-MeWcWsoNyA4ftb97DIHuL-IAEZ8JoT82cSARfVYGqiG8iWmWg00waIpqmRjb9JwNHqwD3JYNN/s1600/N+Bay+House+030a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOm3kSXoDY9x1btXTtoVH7t1OEaarNiFeizuzHOPVCKsG2JrGA9lU5fV0Iys_rzpHn3-MeWcWsoNyA4ftb97DIHuL-IAEZ8JoT82cSARfVYGqiG8iWmWg00waIpqmRjb9JwNHqwD3JYNN/s320/N+Bay+House+030a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beach flowers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8aGScz5OP-0Y4ydEnIV3wZUZXLjo3x2XN-a-KTU-Ry7zvECfUrKJWR-JJJ0OBwa6mz58HykriJ5j1YlVsBQaP8wvqjIMIUHVzII9CUXZP06hEU74j83M3s5qdIMAlXBacGf2bXDZcnCcJ/s1600/photos+1+091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8aGScz5OP-0Y4ydEnIV3wZUZXLjo3x2XN-a-KTU-Ry7zvECfUrKJWR-JJJ0OBwa6mz58HykriJ5j1YlVsBQaP8wvqjIMIUHVzII9CUXZP06hEU74j83M3s5qdIMAlXBacGf2bXDZcnCcJ/s320/photos+1+091.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Berkelouw Book Barn, Southern Highlands, such a find! Fire in winter, cafe, open paddocks...</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On holidays I like to discover interesting things, and it could be anything from a bookshop or a plaque on a garden wall. I've come to realise that I'm not the exciting type of mother who takes their children on rollar coasters or camping in the wilds. Although they can all ski and sail and swim like fish, the son rides motoX and one descends from helicopters,I have suffered and taken them to the theme parks, I just prefer to have my feet planted!</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpOTSbeQIJYwRDU7d6tc2GDRucEOQ3rVuRCESwc3OiYb5gk9YW5CECR6oflusqOaEOKWbvaqpj__L2w70znKoTtJh9VIfczSqeMw0MQpIh2hAe8KY9weIVOk0I3r-E4AXrlc4I6_SHnHb/s1600/photos+1+090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpOTSbeQIJYwRDU7d6tc2GDRucEOQ3rVuRCESwc3OiYb5gk9YW5CECR6oflusqOaEOKWbvaqpj__L2w70znKoTtJh9VIfczSqeMw0MQpIh2hAe8KY9weIVOk0I3r-E4AXrlc4I6_SHnHb/s320/photos+1+090.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rummage shed at Berkelouw.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHCot6R3CYNWTrMwxQgCa_cj9DsjX0pOYt-6d6aj2Ow10Rqxo62TQ7e-7Ttf-EjMW79qOmNmrCMU1Q2zKFLbK5MGEtLP8FYmochKDQ_gCaLItGK4y0BHVkdE0Wm1hKj_smTI-pdh9uW_EX/s1600/photos+1+101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHCot6R3CYNWTrMwxQgCa_cj9DsjX0pOYt-6d6aj2Ow10Rqxo62TQ7e-7Ttf-EjMW79qOmNmrCMU1Q2zKFLbK5MGEtLP8FYmochKDQ_gCaLItGK4y0BHVkdE0Wm1hKj_smTI-pdh9uW_EX/s400/photos+1+101.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pilgrams at Milton, our healthy food cafe.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJfqyFsXs87KZAivHMvF147UJIl2Mym7HpX0zbpt9J9hEIz4IYSEnJHBIKkKydJwYZr5iO-a9Auml6rn-9cvXt0SztqhtyTEukydCa_FNvMnQ5Rx3A5FxVaRDChyRl7gccSMus6vhJokbg/s1600/photos+1+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJfqyFsXs87KZAivHMvF147UJIl2Mym7HpX0zbpt9J9hEIz4IYSEnJHBIKkKydJwYZr5iO-a9Auml6rn-9cvXt0SztqhtyTEukydCa_FNvMnQ5Rx3A5FxVaRDChyRl7gccSMus6vhJokbg/s400/photos+1+036.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomaree Mountain, Nelson Bay, a great walk with a view to take your breath away.<br />
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I will try to keep my gratitude in full awareness. I need to be mindful.<br />
Take care, thank you for reading and have a lovely day,<br />
Vickixx</td></tr>
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</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-36884281139541297832011-03-07T23:05:00.000-08:002011-03-07T23:05:54.402-08:0015 days of gratitude.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIJpvTKv9Mt8pdglT3PSX-i85TK_2tE2Xjh5MxbePlOpNOe1ZTEcR7RKXBrJ8WC3UbnPpTtsvxCYre4taqrVG6hpPbpw5AbYjJXxV9FxY7vzyGa6rCVk-yIVOGx1Qz6VALnB4_12-2H10/s1600/Picture+196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIJpvTKv9Mt8pdglT3PSX-i85TK_2tE2Xjh5MxbePlOpNOe1ZTEcR7RKXBrJ8WC3UbnPpTtsvxCYre4taqrVG6hpPbpw5AbYjJXxV9FxY7vzyGa6rCVk-yIVOGx1Qz6VALnB4_12-2H10/s320/Picture+196.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Blogging is not something that comes easily to me, I started because I wanted this year to be a year where I tried a different thing every week, something that I'd not normally consider. I don't want life to be...same ole, same ole. <br />
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The problem is, being private is a natural way of being for me, to reveal my thoughts and aspirations feels almost surreal and I find I like to delve too deeply into life to put it all onto a blog, it would bore everyone I'm sure, so I've decided to take inspiration from my friend, Jillian at deux chiens et un garcon, and think about some aspects of my life that I feel grateful for. I am aware that there are books and websites that show people how to tune into being grateful, in the past I have tried writing down, at the end of the day the three things that I am grateful for, I am always keen and conscientious to start but soon the little notebook bought specifically for that intention starts to fill up with recipes, quotes, things to research, fallen leaves, sketches of trees.....so here I am to be grateful for 15 days. Thanks Jillian. I love your musings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCkWW39l_2nJfxvodiS0ZNnuvzUfRYkyQ1txZ4Hyhv1XdPU8IGyz7ZFhs_D7xnlDXMNazhMgi5qmyZAv-X4gjXu1fmkE2SBS2ijTC0-9CSBLjxp3gUJ_UHwqkPsgG2jIHgIQfCqRLv_X0/s1600/Picture+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCkWW39l_2nJfxvodiS0ZNnuvzUfRYkyQ1txZ4Hyhv1XdPU8IGyz7ZFhs_D7xnlDXMNazhMgi5qmyZAv-X4gjXu1fmkE2SBS2ijTC0-9CSBLjxp3gUJ_UHwqkPsgG2jIHgIQfCqRLv_X0/s320/Picture+002.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chantal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I am grateful for my daughter Chantal. She has many abilities, amongst them to see clearly into situations, for that reason and many others I think she will make a good politician, all she has ever wanted to be. She is always grateful for everything! She thanks me for every little thing I do for her, eg, driving her to school, listening to her talk about her day....she also likes to take a dramatic photo!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblICYH6yhQnEpmjfg9RoQHFfVNByCyPzVPoEztfRy0QyRAeiW96W9yQm7yVh6CMXkBLdIrAKVif7KDieIpsIC1XzWT1ub9HqRq72mfXoLivFTPfnZbHDSX92G3yI8zNG7rAWfOuHVt8Ky/s1600/Picture+205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblICYH6yhQnEpmjfg9RoQHFfVNByCyPzVPoEztfRy0QyRAeiW96W9yQm7yVh6CMXkBLdIrAKVif7KDieIpsIC1XzWT1ub9HqRq72mfXoLivFTPfnZbHDSX92G3yI8zNG7rAWfOuHVt8Ky/s320/Picture+205.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chantal</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am grateful for my daughter Alexandria. She is a sensitive, musical, switched on girl who loves travel and wants to explore. She has her feet on the ground, she loves history, animals and mystery. She cares about people doing the right thing. She likes to talk about the 'why' in the world. She reminds me to learn everyday, even when it's hard....like French!</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLh7QrElVxST0dwQrRwY8-fbRdXX9f0gdh7-skC3Ezcm2c5rLshOXmUyc3am35517l19JFEFJgdVJgl2KkQNIJZ19r1dS-nLT3msziDCO8numqxaLfEu05-VR6Jd3fhuQYbjWynEw_C-d/s1600/Picture+207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLh7QrElVxST0dwQrRwY8-fbRdXX9f0gdh7-skC3Ezcm2c5rLshOXmUyc3am35517l19JFEFJgdVJgl2KkQNIJZ19r1dS-nLT3msziDCO8numqxaLfEu05-VR6Jd3fhuQYbjWynEw_C-d/s320/Picture+207.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alexandria<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">Two of the best reasons for me to be eternally grateful....and I've got another 14 days to go!<br />
Take care,<br />
Vickixx<br />
P.S. I am grateful for trees.<br />
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</div></div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-21876009830640670712011-02-12T02:09:00.000-08:002011-02-12T02:32:48.547-08:00A Genteel Life.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I came across these three old photographs in an Op shop.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They had been tossed into an old tin, laying amongst bric-a-brac. How could I not take them home and sit them somewhere to be seen. I called them Elizabeth Mary, Harriet Jane and Ethel Francis. And so whenever I look at these women I wonder about their lives. Were they born in Australia or England? Were they formally educated? Are they of the landed gentry? Did they have lives of comfort and privilige with balls to attend, picnics by the river and painting lessons? Did they marry city men or graziers and manage their husbands farms as some women did? Did they have connections? What were their lives like? Did they have 10 children as was so often the case then? In the early 1800's the life expectancy for women was 45, in 1900 it was 59, did they live longer? Are there descendants out there who would love these photos? How did they end up in an op shop? I hope they were happy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I think they are beautiful. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Elizabeth' looks serene and composed. She is looking at the photographer with a modest assurance and confidence, not to much, just enough. She is well groomed, wearing expensive clothing, the large collar,the cuffed sleeves, the lace ruffle of her blouse, pin tucking, stylish belt, side buttoned skirt which fantails out from the knees, bangle over long gloves, the delicate chains which usually held a watch or some similar object, glimpse of an earring and the hat with the feather decoration which was very fashionable in the 1890's, all certainly indicates that she was from a wealthy background. It was also fashionable in those days to hold flowers. Is the carved pew a photographers prop or from a church?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkD9UTNX1pbFcKNMCbE_9a_MK2Vl2_Tdac3Z-DW3yZrSmNBGwIh9NQu__HJqye5KtkCZ61MzPS66ydCJHx1dOpW_fwl-Dt85EgrGx0HQjLDiw3RTHVeTBt0fo-PAtvNe2hycPBRP0n0ih/s1600/Isabella.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkD9UTNX1pbFcKNMCbE_9a_MK2Vl2_Tdac3Z-DW3yZrSmNBGwIh9NQu__HJqye5KtkCZ61MzPS66ydCJHx1dOpW_fwl-Dt85EgrGx0HQjLDiw3RTHVeTBt0fo-PAtvNe2hycPBRP0n0ih/s640/Isabella.JPG" width="456" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> 'Harriet' also has a serene demeanor but I think also a tranquil glow. In my photographs the ladies have flawless skin, the paper however has some marks on it, Ethel's' being particularly marked as it so much older. They all have cardboard backing. Her thick hair is held up with clips and ribbon, it looks as if it would be very long. Her dress could indicate that it is around the late 1800's and onwards, it would have been hand made, there are tiny bows at the high neck and the sleeves look puffed which indeed was the fashion of the 1890's. She wears tiny peal earrings, a locket and a broach of fresh roses. What was this occasion? Is it her child's christening? She has a look of devoted love on her face?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_C7ALbc3CIpFlBsUwatWk3BvkFCrMSIEuiUKF2mRk4CqWCg7sjDqpLnHgg29lE4tyvEv0oQNLEI0geWfF3c2W3-1AoL-qu76CRiJQtVxsfDOAobpquo380Q478VFPqm5jxThJ0EOxX4NU/s1600/2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_C7ALbc3CIpFlBsUwatWk3BvkFCrMSIEuiUKF2mRk4CqWCg7sjDqpLnHgg29lE4tyvEv0oQNLEI0geWfF3c2W3-1AoL-qu76CRiJQtVxsfDOAobpquo380Q478VFPqm5jxThJ0EOxX4NU/s640/2.JPG" width="432" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4O17rwb0bsQT8WGfYszA9rCzzSu9YNm8ra1HzRy4Nac2jUUG3HElvQDDLFpuroL7BQMoTCqVNboW9zf5mr_9RfPV3byzc0n8fhJEhcQ5m8EiSM-nXcTVLuEG14qM3BJe0e9b-q5KDXpy/s1600/apple.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4O17rwb0bsQT8WGfYszA9rCzzSu9YNm8ra1HzRy4Nac2jUUG3HElvQDDLFpuroL7BQMoTCqVNboW9zf5mr_9RfPV3byzc0n8fhJEhcQ5m8EiSM-nXcTVLuEG14qM3BJe0e9b-q5KDXpy/s640/apple.JPG" width="482" /></a></div><br />
Ethel looks like the typical Victorian woman. Day dresses were worn with a round, linen collar, she has a small pin for that touch of femininity. Her dress and collar has been sewen with thin ribbon and it looks as if her corset is actually on the outside? They were expected to be childlike, pale, passive, submissive, mindless, genteel and nice, incapable of making a decision and prone to emotional 'vapors'. Their status was reflected in their clothing and Ethels hat is a fashion statement from the 1820's. The more feathers, wide ribbons, runching and decoration the better, hair was piled upon the head and the hats worn on top. Hat pins were sometimes 18" long! Her face reflects the expectations of the women of that period. It was the time when they could not vote, that did not arrive until 1902 and men thought it incomprehensible that women could focus on any matters apart from the domestic and the trivial. Who knows what career Ethel would have had today? What do you think? I hope she smiled at home.<br />
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Despite having no say in the direction their lives would lead I see these women as incredibly strong. To 'bear up' and keep going takes determination and the optimism that one day life would improve.<br />
And it has.<br />
Vickixx</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-33934625431925385452011-01-28T15:13:00.000-08:002011-01-28T15:13:13.084-08:00The Importance of Just Being.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YFdrqRuggWu3FUZ-SF0_w3TvsZlBu29X0HNXoyKjkj9WWPF3CCr7i7CEyrjg36102ujUo0yEoi-GBe22qopdtskW1JHEI8ZFaVr4lpB6T3W5P6KbWzqMLrcIeipYWXVD17OCIj6cZKsy/s1600/IMG_0225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YFdrqRuggWu3FUZ-SF0_w3TvsZlBu29X0HNXoyKjkj9WWPF3CCr7i7CEyrjg36102ujUo0yEoi-GBe22qopdtskW1JHEI8ZFaVr4lpB6T3W5P6KbWzqMLrcIeipYWXVD17OCIj6cZKsy/s1600/IMG_0225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><br />
</a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I have finally come to the conclusion that I must have the sort of face that compels people to confide in me. Place, time nor occasion stops the general public from bursting forth and telling me the most intimate of details. I feel slightly uneasy at times, other times I wonder if they have mistaken me for someone else but now I also feel an obligation to steer them in a different direction to the one they're stuck in! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXylD5v3gmdvMCqhaBSOSZBm80vN8Ec271oebl7wS__T83cRwnpKBCrFT9VX6a6ArMVibHeWMMsU_MLAET84YI_kv5-YkX8BWYglHIMt01NojyvqzwtrOv-AxF_hw7owgdcPin3BmW-0C/s1600/DSC_0183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXylD5v3gmdvMCqhaBSOSZBm80vN8Ec271oebl7wS__T83cRwnpKBCrFT9VX6a6ArMVibHeWMMsU_MLAET84YI_kv5-YkX8BWYglHIMt01NojyvqzwtrOv-AxF_hw7owgdcPin3BmW-0C/s320/DSC_0183.JPG" width="320" /></a>Sometimes life can be overwhelming.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Yesterday a young man at the fruit shop told me of a home invasion and how it had left him with a loss of his feeling of personal space, last week it was a checkout operator telling me of her joy in standing in her lounge room on dusk watching the koalas in the gum trees with a glass of wine in hand but that she would have to return to her homeland in New Zealand because of a divorce and lack of funds...I only bought celery, tomatoes and sourdough! I've had a well-past middle age immaculately groomed woman break down at her cash register in the middle of Christmas, surrounded by carols trumpeting and Santa's bell ringing in the background when she described the joy of becoming a grandmother, the sight of me patting her on the back with misty eyes must have made some shoppers take a double look, I've driven an African immigrant to a hostel as she didn't know where to stay and had too many bags to lump onto buses, I've been asked to hold babies,mind luggage, wake people on trains at their stop, read timetables to little old ladies, take photos of families and even serve behind a cafe for the owner who was attending her cut hand....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YFdrqRuggWu3FUZ-SF0_w3TvsZlBu29X0HNXoyKjkj9WWPF3CCr7i7CEyrjg36102ujUo0yEoi-GBe22qopdtskW1JHEI8ZFaVr4lpB6T3W5P6KbWzqMLrcIeipYWXVD17OCIj6cZKsy/s1600/IMG_0225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YFdrqRuggWu3FUZ-SF0_w3TvsZlBu29X0HNXoyKjkj9WWPF3CCr7i7CEyrjg36102ujUo0yEoi-GBe22qopdtskW1JHEI8ZFaVr4lpB6T3W5P6KbWzqMLrcIeipYWXVD17OCIj6cZKsy/s400/IMG_0225.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The feeling of being included in other people's lives is affirming. It's a basic human need that we matter to other people.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjbnKZr9k9l37TVjtoTdlZxJWw7r8xsyF9mF0wEQf6TdN0eI6X8Lj2nZIGe544p9XFfiL85VgOia3W_5WVhebcFf7OTDUkgnNOaQ9P2Y9cC1JV0-S-CfBpVWnddR0gFYJ5njnhKh1-Q9C/s1600/Picture+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjbnKZr9k9l37TVjtoTdlZxJWw7r8xsyF9mF0wEQf6TdN0eI6X8Lj2nZIGe544p9XFfiL85VgOia3W_5WVhebcFf7OTDUkgnNOaQ9P2Y9cC1JV0-S-CfBpVWnddR0gFYJ5njnhKh1-Q9C/s320/Picture+002.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The need for art in our lives is fundamental to our expression of who we are. We were all born to be creative and to not feed it is to deny our emotional needs. This is my daughter,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Chantal taking a photo of a plastic bag exhibit at GOMA but it doesn't have to be in an art gallery, it can be absolutely anywhere, it can be drawing in the sand with a stick, painting your name on a rock, designing a family calendar.....endless possibilities.....</div><div dir="rtl" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIZK5fB06mS7qgr2c2YcO0RXqq6Be6wc-BSfCcwJHD_AL7KvTxHF_Dr4QczXXgUqLj3aCJGcF92ITD-FoqC4PNLOStmZxJPO6Ra1bRD6dK3kpONTR-lHdBmAGtWnNUhwwg9EV9sf4UOzG/s1600/Picture+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIZK5fB06mS7qgr2c2YcO0RXqq6Be6wc-BSfCcwJHD_AL7KvTxHF_Dr4QczXXgUqLj3aCJGcF92ITD-FoqC4PNLOStmZxJPO6Ra1bRD6dK3kpONTR-lHdBmAGtWnNUhwwg9EV9sf4UOzG/s320/Picture+008.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>We need to look at the sky....at least once a day...and breathe it in. The world is a big place and every day it starts fresh.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1LMoXZT-JWDMr_ZJn-sEoa0oGwFZHZgyzosqt6jsWhyphenhyphenDAt9kCRRJclx9A8fAgROWY9c2Goqu5Qmwl288T8GnZZ6Z5-4H8yq6tt3cLE2t9dW9gJOgCrk5dEt8hhO70QW0ZuKLiO7SppVMY/s1600/DSC_0125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1LMoXZT-JWDMr_ZJn-sEoa0oGwFZHZgyzosqt6jsWhyphenhyphenDAt9kCRRJclx9A8fAgROWY9c2Goqu5Qmwl288T8GnZZ6Z5-4H8yq6tt3cLE2t9dW9gJOgCrk5dEt8hhO70QW0ZuKLiO7SppVMY/s320/DSC_0125.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">We need to stop and pause in our day. The shadows, the light, the edges, the colors..to process our thoughts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxP595LKzYcFHSck0wKMZ28-Lh6sHOZHvZ2JEsdCtW3JRob9ywgeN5e1z6sqTOTmzW1QGlN-XVXFrIcL5hAkSDyM30iTq6UgRCOtT5zzZ487yp4UcaBd_acVceiB9RRakLWT-VDRXMhSIh/s1600/DSC_0481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxP595LKzYcFHSck0wKMZ28-Lh6sHOZHvZ2JEsdCtW3JRob9ywgeN5e1z6sqTOTmzW1QGlN-XVXFrIcL5hAkSDyM30iTq6UgRCOtT5zzZ487yp4UcaBd_acVceiB9RRakLWT-VDRXMhSIh/s320/DSC_0481.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>We need to nurture our young. We need to stop... and look as they do.<br />
<br />
I'm hoping that this week when I'm being confided in that I can at least bring a smile to someones' face.<br />
<br />
Have a great week,<br />
Vickixx<br />
</div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-10675301787915519542011-01-21T21:26:00.000-08:002011-01-21T21:43:09.304-08:00The Secret of Time.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpI9z47UZ6xmL8hLdItRxc6X6jNPu5it55N_IPHxZn7KyRgM2beyyEU1IU00u2m2waPf2IV7IPWKWJkLYGJCYd2FOnYMVRLFqeGdOQAC_XZmo4dEXf0kdT_GXmEcYzvj1jO7zqKx57jU9/s1600/Picture+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpI9z47UZ6xmL8hLdItRxc6X6jNPu5it55N_IPHxZn7KyRgM2beyyEU1IU00u2m2waPf2IV7IPWKWJkLYGJCYd2FOnYMVRLFqeGdOQAC_XZmo4dEXf0kdT_GXmEcYzvj1jO7zqKx57jU9/s320/Picture+020.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I've had time on my mind for some months now, I think about how fast life goes by, I ponder if all people feel the same about time when they pass the halfway mark, do people regret tossing their days away on watching T.V, doing nothing or do they feel it's a productive way of countering stress and a wind down from a hard week at work? I know I used to feel guilty if I didn't cram as much as I could into every day and I would regard a day as being wasted if I couldn't finish it by reading, no matter how much I had accomplished. <br />
<br />
Now, I have come to learn the trick of father time, that we record the changes in our life, not the passing of time, we don't measure the months or years and as we get older we have less changes in our lives. Most of the milestones have been achieved and passed, we've finished school, entered the workforce, married, had children, bought a house/car/boat, set up a business and gardens, for some they have divorced and retired. There are no landmarks to anticipate, plan for and rejoyce in and so time just passes. Every Christmas I remark to shopkeepers how fast yet again has this year gone and if they are out of their 20's they almost certainly agree. <br />
<br />
But now that I know the secret I will be able to slow it down. I need to constantly see/hear/smell/touch/eat/do things I've not contemplated before. Easy! I can do this! It's just a matter of re-thinking, out with the routine and in with the unexplored and undiscovered. Now I need to walk a different path, one where I will listen to music I've never heard, grind eastern spices in my pestle and mortar and let the aroma fill the house, buy a new perfume, I need to go to a huge craft shop and find and touch materials that I've not touched before and maybe buy some and make a heart to send to a friend, I need to explore Asian foods or Indian foods, something I've not eaten before apart from rice and dahl, I need to plan adventures like swimming early in the morning, eating meals outside, lying on the grass on warm nights and watching the stars, only using candles after dark, bush walking in the late afternoon then reading under a tree before I make my way back. If I was younger, perhaps under 50 this list would be different and if I was over 70 different again.<br />
<br />
So, I will start now, I'm going to be presant in my daily life, I'm going to use every opportunity to be still engaged and look for the new milestones peeping around the corners.<br />
<br />
Love to all,<br />
<br />
VickixxVickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-78558135792097838102011-01-11T14:55:00.000-08:002011-01-11T14:55:46.223-08:00We'll get through this.I sit and type from my secure home, only an hour from a city being brought to it's knees with flooding. I sit dry and comfortable on my lounge watching the scenes of utter devastation in towns dotting the Queensland countryside, I say goodnight to my children knowing that I will see them arise the next morning. But my heart is not the same, how can I watch scenes this tragic, hear of the loss of life, know that some families will never again see their loved ones and not be moved and changed. They say hard times bring us together, make us more unified, get us working in the same direction and that that is the backbone of our unique Australian-ness'. And it does, we've proved it already, we've done it for centuries, communities have stood strong through droughts, wars, bush fires, even an earthquake. People are so underestimated, people who on an average day, go to work, shop, meet in coffee shops or their homes to socialise are now rescuing, at times frantically with no hindrance for their own safety. They're sharing and giving. What role models for us all. Heroes are not sports people. Heroes are the dads, the mums, the teenagers that we now see on our TV's. My love goes out to you all.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmTwujpBYPpueI7uJ-fsibtRoAKFbX4P_AnXDBMiQwGD5RC3BP8BCCpTpez2LRE4xwMLM7DtSetjaCxeV1_pqzBWMBq2ipFKoFAz7MWfKAus0cP74uptpuIXIb-nIvw6EmtemaaWcekRk/s1600/buba+n+zoo+612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmTwujpBYPpueI7uJ-fsibtRoAKFbX4P_AnXDBMiQwGD5RC3BP8BCCpTpez2LRE4xwMLM7DtSetjaCxeV1_pqzBWMBq2ipFKoFAz7MWfKAus0cP74uptpuIXIb-nIvw6EmtemaaWcekRk/s320/buba+n+zoo+612.jpg" /></a></div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-25953642271088139372010-12-20T22:09:00.000-08:002010-12-20T22:09:13.256-08:00A Good Year?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvu0teuuCpH24kf2IqqTt9uOSZlF1utSuWeYGx8s_B4ARYSxdRJNbbt9KU0EPFaWV71lGVcTxgO5Ymj05HvNHC9rEcIcnGJGdQNIJTRSjY-AKxFdAsI0Qzets_TgJEO_xs09_gSgDmxzl-/s1600/buba+n+zoo+501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvu0teuuCpH24kf2IqqTt9uOSZlF1utSuWeYGx8s_B4ARYSxdRJNbbt9KU0EPFaWV71lGVcTxgO5Ymj05HvNHC9rEcIcnGJGdQNIJTRSjY-AKxFdAsI0Qzets_TgJEO_xs09_gSgDmxzl-/s320/buba+n+zoo+501.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmz7hY1Tg6zgDHS79mzs1W29Dh_JIKhLNFm31Yy961RqWhx2dRGxUunxjzOlBMCif_WiFva9m9hvrhYD5yihyYVo56oGOTdBm56ba0wd9vwEtoB06q-zVMouae46qOYRQD2LvoyjdmVb5S/s1600/buba+n+zoo+1500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmz7hY1Tg6zgDHS79mzs1W29Dh_JIKhLNFm31Yy961RqWhx2dRGxUunxjzOlBMCif_WiFva9m9hvrhYD5yihyYVo56oGOTdBm56ba0wd9vwEtoB06q-zVMouae46qOYRQD2LvoyjdmVb5S/s320/buba+n+zoo+1500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>As this year slides into it's close and my head prepares for 2011 I am hoping that the new year will be a vintage crop. I can't help but compare the similarities of wine production and my life. Winemakers require the right acidity in the soil, the right balance of minerals, the right amount of sun, drainage, type of grape, careful tending, the right time to harvest and an experienced person to produce a product that stands up in the market place, oh and just a pinch of luck! Raising a family, juggling work, allowing for every member to grow strong and tall in their own right, getting the physical and emotional nutrients right, pulling it all together and hoping that all the hard work pays off is what my aim is. This Christmas, my goal was to bring lots of fun back into our life after a hard year and I've come to learn that what I was after was a Christmas more akin to the ones when the girls were little and everything was cause for laughter and delight and curiosity. Now our fun times are different, they are more painting fingernails and making plans for the end of next year when Yr 12 is over. It's more about arranging the ornaments and discussing our Christmas menu.<br />
<br />
Christmas has grown up and moved on.<br />
Lot of happy thoughts,<br />
x VickiVickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-84334590123042506542010-12-17T12:53:00.000-08:002010-12-17T12:53:12.835-08:00The Rush to Save Time.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg55cd3p9BtgO5aBbEulfjsxY4WnQVseVw_vuK363dYyNI_K8VdUMy71Yh1TR3GpvIXtDk2ddlLZGfH4Fyted9mla66jNSCzFJcIZ4GYfGL6ixMzZGoXl0DQoc9MF43cNQqyJh8HMzGYYZY/s1600/buba+n+zoo+194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg55cd3p9BtgO5aBbEulfjsxY4WnQVseVw_vuK363dYyNI_K8VdUMy71Yh1TR3GpvIXtDk2ddlLZGfH4Fyted9mla66jNSCzFJcIZ4GYfGL6ixMzZGoXl0DQoc9MF43cNQqyJh8HMzGYYZY/s320/buba+n+zoo+194.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I've been thinking about relaxation. At the busiest time of the year. In a time when 'we must catch up for a coffee' is the default for hello and it was prompted by the sight of a woman sitting in a busy cafe surrounded by a long list and a pile of Christmas cards. She did not pause except to sip her coffee. Card writing used to be a long, relaxing event in December. It was often reflective and even cathartic as was gift wrapping on Xmas Eve and drinking coffee in cafes. Now we can outsource and what a time saver that has proved to be! But where does the saved time go? Is it spent talking with our loved ones, finishing that book, trying out that recipe, a long landline conversation to an interstate friend, a swim or better still a time to process our thoughts? There is no bank of 'saved hours', at the end of every day we start all over again. I've worked out my New Year's Resolution, I'm going to spend every saved minute every day, I'm going to waste my saved time on whatever attracts me in the moment. I have a feeling it will be time well spent.<br />
Have a truly restful day,<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikQB-d17W0Zhac5w5aQlp5ZwagnWT2EFT6BZAM5TRBOH6pkIvdCdntT8P0uhlAgMHnpw6_2ZiYxkZx-viN9f1jPtBA0U8KkTPuqQnZM1LyAV8qPQHn3NexQxjAAHXWLeR2x-iqeHpc11G/s1600/buba+n+zoo+633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikQB-d17W0Zhac5w5aQlp5ZwagnWT2EFT6BZAM5TRBOH6pkIvdCdntT8P0uhlAgMHnpw6_2ZiYxkZx-viN9f1jPtBA0U8KkTPuqQnZM1LyAV8qPQHn3NexQxjAAHXWLeR2x-iqeHpc11G/s320/buba+n+zoo+633.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>vicki xxVickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-71497339308418408762010-12-16T17:14:00.000-08:002010-12-16T17:14:54.443-08:00A Hot Christmas.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-yS7ZRjJZ8qTB5oxF0EI0RiY8N-LTg0ezUx9-ckvcjyWNnfePve9VK4Z21u0DrbTvnOLRVz9any-SZYoQnwP_WVajd-J8DAScS6_oNqyWvM2d5C4p9zX0s8MWvFOkuUu1hAfvDpq9vf1/s1600/buba+n+zoo+2203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-yS7ZRjJZ8qTB5oxF0EI0RiY8N-LTg0ezUx9-ckvcjyWNnfePve9VK4Z21u0DrbTvnOLRVz9any-SZYoQnwP_WVajd-J8DAScS6_oNqyWvM2d5C4p9zX0s8MWvFOkuUu1hAfvDpq9vf1/s400/buba+n+zoo+2203.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I've been thinking about Christmas. It's hot. And in Queensland where I live we are not tied to any particular style in anything we do, our Xmas can be as'European or as Australian as we want. We can have a traditional tree adorned with glistening baubles and garlands of glitter or a contemporary tree with minimalist branches made from wire and decorated with paper hearts. We can have an elaborately set table with damask cloth, fine glassware, candles and multiple courses of roasted and baked fare or stand, whooshing the flies, dripping wet from the pool around the BBQ eating hot prawns and coleslaw with a pavlova to finish. My experience of Christmas as a child growing up in the 60's was as remote for todays's children as it would have been for me then to imagine computers. My toys were all centred on mothering, dolls and their clothes, prams, tea-sets, plastic make-up sets, kitchen appliances, paper press out dolls and their different clothes and for the well-to-do, dolls houses. My brothers presants were centred on being a 'man' pop guns, cap guns, garages with cars, train sets, plastic knives in a sheath strapped around his waist, marbles, kites, sling shots..... My yearning was for an Annie Oakley outfit. I wanted to be just like Annie! Riding horses just like the men, not being obstructed by dresses and tight shoes which pretended that you didn't have toes, laughing just like the men too! Alas for me, no matter how hard I wished and asked Santa every Christmas Eve night there would be no cowgirl outfit under the tree. It made me wonder how 'good' I had to be. Thankfully now girls are not stereotyped at present giving and mothers don't have to sweat it out in a hot kitchen all day. And I can order gifts from Lithuania or Venice on the computer. Oh progress how great it is to finally meet you!<br />
Merry Xmas and good cheer to all.<br />
Vicki xxVickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1959638831552251848.post-60535298276741924942010-12-08T16:35:00.000-08:002010-12-08T17:01:58.174-08:00That Christmas Feeling.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBo2muzDA_Yc6zTSPg_MfYbqop6fhOq1aeIwhUkWYljjzxdp46cEwroSUi677n75izaFv8jXCT0fYsJEdM9nZHQqXuE8ob9zHJp1oki8iGVa7IbXkbt6IP6kHbdiMXKI0HY_sg-gpjE6HQ/s1600/buba+n+zoo+181.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBo2muzDA_Yc6zTSPg_MfYbqop6fhOq1aeIwhUkWYljjzxdp46cEwroSUi677n75izaFv8jXCT0fYsJEdM9nZHQqXuE8ob9zHJp1oki8iGVa7IbXkbt6IP6kHbdiMXKI0HY_sg-gpjE6HQ/s320/buba+n+zoo+181.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548475640379771106" /></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Welcome to my first post, I'd like to share happy bits and pieces of our life in Queensland following the seasons and events that shape our days. I want to mainly concentrate on the positive side of life, whilst I don't want to put my head in the sand and pretend that there is no war, famine, crime and abuse there are many blogs that deal with those tragedies and they do a far better job that I could in bringing certain issues to light, for me I want a little place of respite from the heavy side of life. </div><div>For so many people around the world December is a time to celebrate whether it's from a religious tradition or a time of getting together with loved ones. I want to bring a carefree feeling back into our family after a long and at times stressful past year. I want my two daughters, Alexandria and Chantal to be free from schol worry about projected marks, word counts and deadlines. So, I'm going to put my silly hat on for this month and overload the house with carols, candles and baking. All serious talk is being put on hold and we're going all out for fun!</div><div>How are you going to make your Christmas bright?</div><div>I hope your December and Christmas is all that you hope it to be.</div><div><br /></div>Vickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08562932795668029251noreply@blogger.com4