Half my life

This year, I have been a parent for exactly half of my life.

Wow, what a journey. I am certain it has been the making of me, and I can't imagine my life without them in it, but I'm beginning to understand that daily contact is not necessary!

Our eldest moved away from home last December, 3000km away. Where all the cool people live. (waves at Melbourne). He is back at the moment for my birthday, and it is actually strange having him under the roof again (yes, he still has the same squeeze). No flies on him though - at what age do they stop hoping to cadge free shoes from parents?

When he left home I was a bit of a sook for a while. I figured out that it was because I didn't know when I would see him again. In the past I had had a date on the calendar for when he would walk in the door again. I was quite bereft without him, and was struck by how much I missed his presence, his bulk, his hugs and his company. I realised how unnatural it was for me to not be able to picture where he was. I had given birth to someone who was now a large man, roaming the Earth in a different city, and being all . . . functional and adult and grown up. Someone would see my son walking down the street, and interact with him, appraise him, like him or not, and it was out of my ken. I was not a face in that particular crowd. I was not breathing that same air with him any more. He was not returning to me. I felt the apron strings come undone. I had underestimated the lump it would make in my throat.

Once I figured out that it was a lack of a calendar entry that was troubling me I had to mentally commit to a visit to Melbourne mid-year. The separation then became easier to bear, and I settled down, and could think about him without become teary. I enjoyed my mental image of a confident capable adult son out in the world.

When I arrived home one day in late-March after a super day at work, with TWO births I was as high as a kite and bursting to share the fantastic day I had had. It was also our daughter's birthday, so all in all a great day, with a restaurant meal to look forward to. My key was in the door when I heard an adult male voice talking in the kitchen - he had been brought home on FF points by the squeeze as a surprise for his sister's birthday! He had been in town for 2 days already, lying low for a surprise! He scooped me up in a huge hug, and was really very tolerant of me patting him reassuringly all evening. I was so surprised, and so delighted. It was brilliant.

Our youngest is still home, and likely to stay here for some time, although she is keen to move out, in principle. She is not working at the moment, had to resign her job due to terrible eczema/dermatitis on her hands. Her health has been quite challenging in the last 9 months, with one thing and another, and the appointments are very frequent. We thought we were off all that frequent flyer stuff, but she has had 2 operations and not too many answers, although it is reassuring to have ruled some stuff out. She is doing one afternoon of maths refresher stuff at her level, and other than that sits on the computer/ watches DVDs, plays her music (Glee anything) and obsesses about the cat. She finds it really hard me being out all day with this new job, coming and going as much as I do. She has few friends and doesn't go out much, and is not nearly as independent as most people her age, although that is improving. She really needs to meet a sweet boy, but doesn't go anywhere to meet any :( She has however taken up the challenge of cooking dinner one night per week, which is a help. Now - how to trick her into taking up the rest of the housework! Well, thats not strictly fair, she does do a bit of food shopping as well during the week. However she has NO idea how to plan major stuff, and we are frustrated by her passivity in this matter. If she moved out next week it would be a fast-track to boredom, anxiety and malnutrition. . ..with added cats. We are starting to look into future options.

DD was away for a fortnight in April and we experienced the wonder of the empty nest.

And we want MORE!

Last days

Snapshots from my 'place of birth'

A final week of madness on the ward. The hospital is in crisis mode, with a serious bed shortage and a staffing shortage to boot (I have not offered to work an extra shift this weekend).

I was lucky enough to work the same 4 rooms for 4 days, and saw 9 different women through those rooms, and 5 different babies. Some babies were in the nursery, some hadn't come out to play yet. All but one of the babies were great feeders, with sensible practical mums. It really makes a difference.

I can't tell you how many bells I answered, but it was a LOT. I have a sore foot currently and am limping alot of the time, which makes my other hip and my back sore. I was not pleased with frivolous ringing of bells, but I did take a certain pleasure in seeing that I would not be answering bells next week. Just mobile phonecalls.

I had my last late-early split. Bliss. I am well aware that I will be on call and I may long for the life of a rostered day off, but just let me enjoy this tiny fantasy, will you?

I worked a late, early, early, early, and was in a meeting from 9.30-1.40 today. Hubby was away on business and I had to walk/limp to and from work all week as I have no parking permit at work, and I live pretty close anyway so its not worth taking a car for an 8 minute walk. Unless you're limping. This part of the week DID suck.

Word was still spreading about my departure, so I have broken the news and said goodbye to many people all week. I have enjoyed much goodnatured ribbing about people making me hand-embroidered placenta bags if they'd known (my reply? Frankly my dear I'm bloody insulted you hadn't already wrapped it ready for me, what's the holdup? You've had 4 weeks notice!).

I have had 2 avo teas, with cake, wherein I received a lovely gift from my home ward, and many many good wishes, acknowledging my long-held desire to work in this field. Students and former students professed to have enjoyed birthing and working with me, saving lives with me, and laughing with me. I cried. I laughed. We hugged. I assured them I would not be far away, and would not be a stranger to them.

This morning I handed in my uniforms to the cheerful Julia in the hospital laundry/uniform section. She asked where I was heading and was delighted to hear that I was going to be a homebirth midwife. She regaled me with tales of her mother giving birth to 12 babies at home, including one caught by Julia herself when she was 13 years old. Her brother had come really fast and her dad was still away fetching the midwife!

This afternoon I had a final engagement with labour ward. Over two hours staff staggered in and out and asked for information about my next job. Some of them almost seemed to be giving grudging permission for this career move, but were greatly outweighed by those assuring me I would love it, and that it would be a great fit for me. There was much discussion about knowing me, and my capabilities, and knowing that I would understand their expectations if transfer occured. There was more ribbing about me phoning in to transfer primips who had been pushing for 7 hours (c'mon girls, you KNOW my minimum time limit before transferring is 8 hours) and much curiosity about details, which I was largely unable to furnish, as I have yet to be oriented. I caught up on the gossip, who was pregnant (3 of them), who was planning to be and who had got new roles. It was great to touch base with these fantastic bunch of hardworking and talented midwives again. I have missed them over the last 6 weeks and was a little sad not to finish up with them on Labour ward. But I am sure I will see them from time to time, and I know it will be a warm welcome.

Lastly I handed in my security pass. I cried again, suddenly, and couldn't speak as the man took it from my hand, and I left the building with tears rolling down my face for the umpteenth time that day.

The tears are ones of recognition of the importance of that place in my life. Of gratitude to my colleagues who have taught me and shared so much. Of grief to be leaving their daily lives. I have been delighted to work there, to become the midwife that I am. My tears are also of pride in my accomplishments so far. The tears of transition.

Most of all, over the last 4 weeks, I have been humbled by the warm support of mentors. They have been open in their joy for me. I am certainly standing on the shoulders of giants. I mentioned before that I felt like I was at Everest base camp, still with one heck of a climb ahead of me, but Oh! The view!

Who knows what sort of midwife I am yet to become?

In safe, strong hands

Today my husband's hands have opened presents.

They have eaten chocolate. And spooned porridge.

Fetched hot chocolate at swimming. Pressed timekeeper buttons at the competition.

Massaged the back of a swimmer.

Recorded a personal best time for our daughter.

Driven us safely home.

Eaten a picnic by the beach, and drank wine.

Done the fruit and veg shopping at the market.

Unloaded the dishwasher. Hugged our son.

Packed a suitcase to take him away for a brief business trip.

Opened the door for the cat (umpteen times).

Later, they might get lucky ;)

But wherever those hands travel, I feel safe when I see them. They are strong. They are dependable. I love to hold them, and be held by them.

They held our babies many years ago, and continue to do so. Safely.

We are very lucky to have them.

Happy Father's Day my love.

Silver

Exactly twenty five years ago I was having this photo taken.

Then I got into a car and went and did this.

Then this photo was taken.

Then this one.

Then this one. Regrets? Not many, in fact most of it I would do again. Some of it I would do better, sooner, and more frequently. It turned out I made a good choice. And so did he.

I am especially aware that some others are not so lucky. My sister should be sharing this 25th anniversary year with her beloved late husband, but as she reminded me today, he would certainly want us to celebrate, even though he can't be with us.

We plan a small dinner with family and friends on Saturday night. There will be an intimate dinner a deux at a favourite French restaurant tonight. There were gifts in bed this morning. I gave him a second wedding ring in silver and a book of quotes about love and marriage. I received a silver bracelet with a heart locket, and some silver set amethyst and pearl drop earrings in a reproduction style. We have our trip planned for June. By the end of this year I will be working on a quilt for our bed (if I put it in writing you'll all have to hold me to it, OK). I have selected the pattern based on the storm at sea block, but it will be titled something related to weathering the storms and seeing the silver lining.

We are very fortunate, and feel just a bit proud of ourselves too.

So, I suspect, this year, silver will be my new style. However....this will NOT be extended to hair colouring. Just to be clear on that....OK?

This and that, the update.

Dear blogfriends, please forgive the subheadings, there's a lot to tell.

MIDWIFERY
I made arrangements for me to back up at some planned homebirths early this year. That period has now ended and the score is: Homebirths occurred 3, homebirths attended by me 1.5.

Yeah I know....bummer eh? I was ready, willing and waiting, sleeping with the phone by me and knew they were on. The first I managed to see all the way through as you saw in my previous post. It was stripped back and simple and lovely. The second went into labour overdue by a couple of weeks. The primary midwife attended and was in communication with me, I was ready to leave at a moment's notice, the house was 40 mins from my place. She laboured quietly apparently and was well attended by family. There was radio silence for a while, then an "uuummmm, she went from nothing to pushing and 2 pushes later....ta-da!" So great for her, a first-timer, to birth so well, I'm thrilled for them all, really. But......

The third was a second baby and the first had been really quick. Less than an hour quick! So I was poised to possibly be the first one there as I live closer to her. I am still doing my regular job as well, and we have been trusting to the universe that it will all work out. Phut! The universe clearly didn't get my memo about a late/early split shift last week followed by eight days off which were coinciding with the due date. So when the phone rang at 5.10am I thought it was the alarm gone off early.......Then slammed upright when I blurrily saw that it was the first midwife calling! OOoh, decisions, decisions - she was really quick with the first one, I've got time for her to pop it out and still get to work on time. I committed and dashed out. I got there at 5.27 and she was labouring, but still smiling. Things hotted up, then quietened down, as they do, but my start time was approaching.....I called in that I would be late, and mentally made up my mind that I would stay for now, but that if the birth wasn't imminent at 7.30 I would slip away and the other midwife would call a different midwife to back up. And so it went. Bummer. The baby was born at 9.13am. It would have been too much of a stretch to be that late for work.

So the experience I have gained is of providing antenatal and postnatal care in the community, and also intrapartum care in the woman's own home. I have witnessed one homebirth (my second). It was good. I can see the learning curve before me should I choose to continue to work in this field. I need to gather a lot more equipment. I could easily become used to doing less with women, as they take a lot more responsibility for their own issues than women I usually see through the hospital setting. There is less 'routine' assessment and more reliance on behavioural changes in labour. Spontaneous and physiological, just the way it should be. All the usual assessments are there, just less VEs and when they were done (by the primary MW) they were at points when I would have done them to clarify issues as well.

There is no shortage of work out there. With upcoming changes to maternity service provision by the federal government there are many opportunities for midwives to set up in group practices with Medicare provider numbers and limited prescribing rights, as long as they are deemed 'eligible' (a nebulous description, yet to be fully defined but being worked on furiously) and hold professional indemnity insurance, which will not cover them to birth anywhere but in a hospital. This has recently been released for a cost of $7500 per annum full time cover. Stay tuned! I do plan to become eligible - in fact if I was doing my PD instead of blogging it would happen sooner.

I have also been continuing to work with a group planning the commencement of a midwifery group practice in our hospital, hopefully by mid-year. It has to be signed off by roughly 47,000 people including doctors but I think we're up to 35, 766 signatures and the work is all downhill from here! This would be groundbreaking in this state, and I have seen my name on the sample rosters so it may come true! Can't wait.

HEALTH
Twice this year I have had my life flash before my eyes and prepared for my imminent death.

I wish I was kidding.

What I have learned from this is that my husband really needs a cell phone. So the kids CAN in theory contact him when he is in Sydney for a conference and Mum has died of a stroke. As it was I managed to get an appointment with the GP and get a presciption for antihypertensives just before it blew out any blood vessels in my brain, but I suspect it was close. It was extremely unpleasant. I then developed an attractive rash from the meds and changed them a week later. They remain effective.

The second time was when I was woken by upper abdo pain and thought I was going to throw up. I decamped to the loo whereupon I had an 'episode' of tingling, profuse sweating, pins and needles in my face and arms and extreme lightheadedness and a sense of impending doom. Visions of Elvis abounded and I was convinced I was about to have a heart attack. This was in the very early hours of the morning after our daughter's 21st party, so waking a still inebriated husband was quite challenging, as I swooned on the toilet and resorted to banging the glass screen repeatedly while moaning. After a while I managed to croak out his name loud enough and he stumbled out to find me. An ambulance was called and I was whisked off. It turned out to be a vaso-vagal event (they think) as my heart was fine and my blood pressure was elevated but not catastrophic. Phew. I felt sheepish, but would have felt worse if I hadn't paid attention to it. I have seen someone have a fatal coronary and I felt how they looked....so I did the best I could to get help. It lasted about 10-15 minutes (I think) but it was really scary, and I'm grateful it was something benign.

I have discovered that I am not ready to die.

BIRTHDAYS
My son turned 24. He is a sweetie and good company. Please God, let him pass this last semester at uni. He has a girlfriend. There is much 'noise' coming from his bedroom. There is often another mouth to feed. It is OK.

My daughter turned 21. We had the party we planned except for the fact that the pizza oven was too wide to fit through the gate (or the gate was too narrow for the oven to pass). We were flexible about this and luckily had a wide driveway and a paved frontyard that could be rapidly put to use as the pizzeria. A Good Time was had by all, pizza was made, cooked and consumed with gusto if not in the same square metreage of yard. Tromping through the house was expected anyway. The back patio was gorgeous and people mixed and mingled at the tables we set up. We did two big photoboards for her which were fantastic to do. She received some lovely gifts. People continue to wish her well. This is good.

STORM DAMAGE
The skylight is fixed. A Man came from 50km away to do it. The SES had arrived a few days after the storm and covered and secured it with thick black plastic for which we were grateful. The car remains dented. This PITA is likely to continue to be so for a while as I am too busy to submit a claim.

TRAVELS
WE are taking a family holiday in June to Sydney and Uluru. It will be great! 3 nights in Sydney doing tyouristy things, then a 3 day camping safari around Uluru, The Olgas and King's Canyon. The family will then leave from Alice Springs while I stay there for a national conference. Its all good.

SILVER
Somehow it seems I will have been married for 25 years on May 5th. To the same man. Lucky, eh? Preparations abound for a celebratory dinner. Followed by our trip a few weeks later.

PHOTOS may follow for all the above, but right now I have to go to work. Which was evacuated a few nights ago due to a fire. I wasn't working, but it looked like a nightmare! I'll hear all about it today.

Its all go around here!

A few baubles for you

So.... its nearly Xmas. Had you noticed?
I'm getting in the mood now. The tree is decorated.
The pressies are chosen, wrapped and under the tree

The MRI is all clear. The dizzies are mostly gone. The medication is working.

I am wearing Xmas earrings and a tinsel halo to work most days. Its fun. Work has been lovely. Interesting and brave Mums. Sweet babies. I've even had two thankyou cards and chocolates this week! That never happens! One was from the family I met before my holidays. The other twin is doing well.

Why do funeral companies have cookie cutter services with patronising overstated sentiment? Am I a bitch for asking? I attended the funeral of our colleague who died. It was about as wretched as expected, there were so many people there. Naturally there was a very notable turnout from work, nearly all the ward were there, and half the rest of the hospital. Her Dad spoke, heartbreakingly, followed by her sister, stoic and loving. They were a markedly smaller group as a family of 3, compared to the family of 5 they had been only 13 months ago. There is no easy or un-trite way to say goodbye in these circumstances. It all just sucks.

Is there such a thing as turning up to heaven uninvited? I'm sure she would be welcomed anyway, she was a kind girl who earned her wings in many ways. Her death, and the circumstances of her death have been very confronting. Once again we are starkly reminded, depression is a serious illness. How desperately 'not-thinking-straight' must she have been to make that choice. Such a waste.

I haven't been so active around this blog of late, but it doesn't mean I'm not thinking of you. Swings and roundabouts. Most bloggers I read report slow patches, and I am fascinated to realise that I have been blogging, and blog-reading, for more than 2 years now.

In case I don't get to post again pre-Big Day may I wish you all a very happy Christmas season.

A toast: To old friends who have weathered the years, and to new friends who were strangers but yesterday. Merry Christmas.

I just know that 2010 will bring good things.

Holiday activities

Spend four nights with favourite husband in a cosy and private beach-side getaway. Tick.

Spend a day of getaway baking beloved Christmas cakes. Best. Batch. Ever. Tick.

Play Bingo with hubby. Tick. I still don't win.

Tackle Xmas pressie shopping with a relaxed hubby by my side. Tick.

Get bathroom door and dining room wall painted 6 months after bathroom renovation. Tick.

Attend Xmas parties in blistering heat. Tick.

Host Xmas party in blistering heat, wondering why people say they are coming but don't. Tick.

Eat leftovers. Tick.

Read on FB that a young depressed work colleague has died tragically. At work, with colleagues finding her. Reel in shock. Make many phonecalls to distraught colleagues. Grieve the loss of a lovely young midwife. Sadly, tick.

Value life even more preciously and vows to love and support even more. You betcha.

What do I know?

How many times does a human heart beat in a lifetime?

Today I found myself in the position to count them. Almost literally.

One little sweetheart lived his brief life in my care today.

I know Miracles exist. I thought he had slipped away, after twenty incredible minutes. But his little heart beat on feebly and slowly, for another hour or so of bonus life. Cradled by his brave Mum and Dad, skin to skin with his mother in life, with his father later, in death.

It was one of the most beautiful, incredible days of my life as a midwife. From taking the phonecall, to receiving the couple. From listening in and finding two heartbeats, to seeing one falter. From phonecall to the ward they were in my care, as well as the care of superb specialists . Together, the work we did today was a work of art. An oasis of beauty in a forecast that was never going to be good.

Today, for one day only, I was their midwife.

What a privilege.

Once again, I know, I love being a midwife.

Bag lady

Well, the Stuff continues to loom, but I had a rare weekend+ off so it felt right to do some craft.

On Friday I took myself over to Lesley's place and sat companionably with her as she pottered and planned another papercut, and I got stuck in to assembling a bag I had cut out last week. It is from a pattern by Kathy at Pink Chalk Studio, called the Mail Sack.

The base is a wool/silk mix that I got in an op shop somewhere for about $1, and the top part is a vibrant purple linen from a recycled skirt. It is designed to sit scross the body. Whaddya think? I tried to get photos of it on me, but sigh, no. Trust me, I'm sparing you. I haven't decided yet where it will go. It may go in 'the shop'. Or it may be a pressie. I had so many buttons to choose from for the flower, but Steff liked this quirky cow button, so we went with that.

On Saturday hubby and I headed to the city for an impromptu grown-up getaway. I feel like I haven't seen him for a month! It was lovely, away from the phones and the emails and the Stuff.

We went out for dinner (Globe, at the Hilton, mostly wonderful, and the good bits were Incredibly Good) and breakfast (King St Cafe, really good) and had a wander around this developing part of the city and just enjoyed ourselves in general. Comfy room, soft sheets. Exactly what we needed.

On Sunday when we returned I felt like tackling a smallish craft project, that I asked Les about on Friday. She had re-lined a bag that was shabby, or yukky, and I had a lovely bag that had frayed lining. See? It is as an Olga Berg that I bought about 3 years ago, but the original lining was shabby. So I gutted it. The pink bit here is the external zipped pocketliner that was not frayed.

Then, using the old lining as a guide I cut a new liner with a pocket, and reused the zipper for a new pocket, and reused the darted pocket opposite.

Then I hand stitched the new lining in place.
Et voila! One refurbished bag!
I have one more day off now, which is filling up quick, so I'd better fly!

Correspondent's report

Hi Laura,

Time is flying past. Tom-Tom now 2.5yo. Still cute, fun and full of energy. He's talking very well now.

I hope these don't take too long to download for you.
cheers

love Jo

***********************************************************************************

OOOHHHHHH JO!

Thankyou so much, I actually ACHED with longing when I saw that child in the photos and now I'm in tears cos I miss him (and you, my darling) so much.

I want to get on a plane right now and bring you all HERE!!!!!

Why don't you live next door? Why has my sister moved back to Perth so I don't go through Melbourne or nearby lately!!!!!! Dammit!
I am heading to Adelaide on Sept 21st for the conference, and wish you were coming too. Rats.

We truly need to live closer together so I can smooch your lovely children. (throbs with longing for those gorgeous kids....) Tom is unbearably beautiful, I bet he is such fun chattering away and dragging cats around. The photos of him with Darwin are gorgeous, and Georgie is looking like a mini-you. I'm sure Andy was just moving too fast to be captured on film! I just can barely believe how much I love that Tom-Tom, and am especially thrilled to be the first to have seen his sweet face. This midwifery deal is a pretty special gig.

I have just surfaced today after a stint of night shift so will rejoin the land of the living...the work on LBS at night is very absorbing but can be torrid at times, last night was one of those, just pulled from room to room with IOL left right and centre, and the previous night's ones still lingering and only just producing the goods 24 hrs later, or failing and having CS. I had a nice baby at 5.53am by vacuum, compound presentation which meant the Mum's epidural wasn't as effective while she was pushing - you know how they really hurt that extra bit with a hand as well. OUCH. The Mum was so loving and gorgeous to her baby as soon as she was out, it was beautiful to see. Three minutes later, at 0600 was a birth (with another midwife) to a multip who I had cared for initially that night before being moved, and as I left at 7.40am I stopped by theatre to see another primip who had not gone into labour after a tough 24 hours of trying, and was about to meet her babe by CS. I had been caring for her as well last night, and she headed off to OT just as I was in the thick of things for the vacuum, so another midwife took her up. Its all go I tell ya!

Has it really been 9 months since you moved in? Time flies! Any further midwifery work for you? What else you been up to?- as if those gorgeous monkeys aren't enough to keep you fully occupied.

Anyway...I will call you soon,

Thanks again so much for sending those pics (get Georgie to take one of you too!)

Much love, dear friend, I really miss you

Laura x x x x x

Dennis' daughter

Eighty years ago today my father was born in a little place called Wylkatchem, Western Australia.

From what I know of it he had a tough early life.

He was a young boy in the Depression. The second of three children, much later there was a fourth. Life was hard. I don't know when it was that Grandma became a single parent after the breakdown of the marriage, but I know times were tough.

Dad talked of living (as a child) on the banks of the river in a tent. This was in Perth. He talked of being in a reform school in his teens in Sydney.

He was a man's man. Largely self-taught. He valued education but was wary of the arrogance of class privilege that often came with an educated person's lifestyle.

He was very intelligent, with an easy grasp of most subjects - especially in the science engineering and physics field. He could do fantastic technical drawings. He could make anything structural of steel to any specifications. He could weld.

He drove taxis. He rode motorbikes with sidecars at the Speedway. He drove trucks, including big prime movers. He could repair any engine, on any machine.

He was a Mason. He valued service and integrity. He valued family. He could hold a grudge.

He preferred plain cooking, but appreciated good slow Italian cooking, a bit of Chinese and a good Singaporean chilli crab.

In his later years he worked as a mechanic, an engineering estimator, and a security guard.

He respected guns, and taught me to shoot. He took me out driving in every vehicle my license would allow me to drive, so I could be confident to drive anything I got behind, except somehow he never taught me to back a trailer. Oops. Still, I've driven tractors, trucks, stick shifts, column shifts, automatics, vintages and you-name-its.

He loved lollies, and had quite a sweet tooth. He was fiercely independent and very private. We didn't have a lot, but we had enough and I felt rich, and secure. He played Lotto. He had his chair, a recliner rocker that was hotly contested as long as he was not in it. This is how I remember him very clearly. I'm delighted I have such a 'like' photo of him, and although there are others of him around, this is a beauty. Cropped out is the cat at his feet.

He loved to fish, and I wish I could lay my hands on a wonderful photo of him holding two enormous deep sea dhufish, after a great day of fishing, the cats at his feet. He loved his cats. He loved dogs too, and used to breed dachshunds when I was a small child, but my Mum didn't like dogs, so they had to go.

He was a hoarder, a pack rat. Remind you of anyone? You should have seen his shed when he died. I still have some of his stuff, including his diary from the year I was born, noting my birth. I treasure his handwriting.

He loved his four daughters, and always vowed that he was more than happy to be the father of four girls, with no sons. I was born when he was 32, the last of us a few days after his 40th birthday. I remember making him a card for his 40th. This week I will make a 40th card for that sister.

He was allegedly domestically capable, but this was rarely demonstrated. Instead he was waited on hand and foot, his cuppa quickly fetched within minutes of his return after a hard day's work.

He was a sparse drinker who enjoyed a tipple but rarely over-indulged. Gift bottles of whisky would last for years, eked out in his occasional Irish coffee. He always smoked however, for a few years it was a pipe, later rollies.

I have a treasured memory of him in the last days of his life, in a palliative care unit at the time, sitting outside on a patio, offering me his ancient woollen dressing gown against the evening cold, while he rolled a smoke. We sat together peaceably for a time and then he was tired and I tucked him back in bed. It was the last conversation we ever shared.

The next morning he slipped into unconsciousness, and was taken home where we spent the next 48 hours preparing to let him go. He was barely rousable. The only words he spoke that weekend were of love. "Th'nk you" "Love you" as we turned him, or cleaned him, or stroked him. It was pretty special, and a great privilege to nurse him at the end of his life. He died peacefully on a Sunday at lunchtime, hours after seeing an old friend from Speedway days. We laid him out in his full Masonic regalia, as a Past Master, with family photos in his pocket, his XXXX strong peppermints, money for the paper. The months of his illness had finally seen the grease stains fade from his fingertips, and the undertakers somehow buffed out the welding sparks from his glasses. We were so astonished that we each commented on it at the viewing.

He was a man of dignity and few words, but occasionally he would rabbit on about an unlikely topic. He spoke to all men. He loved children, and called them all Charlie. Five of his grandchildren were born in his lifetime, luckily mine, as the eldest, knew him. The working windmill and swing he built for my kids are still in my yard.

He died one month after he turned 65, from pancreatic cancer, a fast and aggressive cancer that took no prisoners. It is on both sides of the family, and I feel a little daunted at the thought that I may have seen my future end. I hope I have the courage and dignity he showed.

I miss him, and yet I don't. Everything he was to me, he still is. A guide, a mentor, a role model. Steadfast, old-fashioned but interested in innovation. I have his lessons, and he is within me. I often sense his presence. Sometimes I hear myself laughing his throaty deep chuckle. Of course I do miss him, and love him, his acceptance and insights. Even now, fifteen years after his passing, I still have the instinct to tell him something. He was a thinker. I wish he could visit, but maybe he does. I know he would be proud of me, of the Laura I am today. Except he called me Jane. Its a long story. I'm not sure what he'd make of us all now. Things have really changed a lot for our family, not all for the better.

But, today I celebrate the anniversary of his birth. The roast dinner is on. I will raise a glass. Writing this has led to more than a tear or two (where're the tissues when you need them?). This is my favourite photo of my Dad and I together on my wedding day in 1985.And I am proud to be Dennis' daughter.

Wild weather = wild women

Its been a while since I showed you any Wild Women. Wanna see the latest batch?

My previous WW are found here and in mid-April archives. The latest girls have been a while coming as I have been quite stop/start with them.

Here is Nymph. You've met her before, but she got finished with some extra floral embroidery and is now ready to take off to her new home.

This is Regina. She is a queen of Rio, and dresses in the colours of the carnival.

Below is Minnie. She took her time to reveal herself, and was bald for quite some time. It didn't suit her. But when she claimed some sorbet-coloured locks she came alive. Her arms and legs are 'milagros' and have a lovely textureand she has vintage crochet lace as her skirt. I think she is doing the Twist.

This is Jaune. Someone I know is having a special birthday soon and guess where Jaune is going to live?

Finally, you have also seen this sweetie before but she was shy and hadn't told me her name yet. She has just whispered it to me...May I introduce Flora. She likes violets.

She was nervous for her close-up, but I think it turned out, don't you?

Blondes have more fun

Well, I've been a busy little bunny.

You may have noticed my photo has changed - this one was taken on Friday when I was out at lunch for a retirement do for one of my husband's oldest colleagues. We had a riotous time at a local restaurant I have been to 3 times in the last 2 months - I had a great prawn dish with garlic prawns, coriander and lime sauce. The waiter was a bright friendly guy who joined in our jokes, and kept us discreetly walled off in a private courtyard, so we didn't disturb other diners with our hoots of laughter and loud stories. It was a really good long lunch, with quite a bit of...um...celebrating.

I finally begged off at 3pm to return home and cook for the afternoon tea we hosted yesterday for my birthday. Excuse the red-eyes in the picture below, but its the only photo I have that shows any of the spread.

We had pumpkin scones, vanilla cupcakes(GF), orange and almond cake(GF), smoked salmon rolls and sandwiches, Greek hazelnut crescents, chocolate biscuits (GF), and a chocolate cake with chocolate butter cream, toasted pistachios and drizzled dark chocolate (yum), all washed down with tea and coffee in nice china cups, just like Ladies. When we'd finished being ladies we got stuck into a nice red wine to finish, but it was ostensibly an afternoon tea and I had a great time. It was marvellous to have an excuse to bake and bake and not to have to eat it all myself.

The girls really got stuck into the afternoon tea as well, and polished off the plates nicely, then sat under the table chatting to each other (6" away) via Facebook. It was hilarious.

It was a lovely excuse to dig out the good china. I especially enjoyed the way all the china connected me to women from my past. I had 3 teacup sets from my late Nanna, one I received for my 21st, 2 from a friend's mother that were gifted to me by my friend, a favourite plate from a late aunt of my husband, another plate from friends in Japan, my lighthouse cups, a set of 4 from my sister's wedding china that she gifted me with a few years ago. A silver fold-up tiered what-not from an elderly connection of the family. A china coffee pot that belonged to my late mother-in-law, whom I never met, and a small plate that was hand-painted by my paternal grandmother. She died when I was 15.

I feel very connected to these woman from all facets of my life. The guests included 3 friends I did midwifery with; 3 friends I have known from Mother's camp (one of whom is also a midwife); Lesley who I know from playgroup 20+ years ago, my daughter, two of my sisters, two nieces, Steff's friend A and my Mum. There were a few men present as well, but it was mostly a lovely gathering of women.

Ah, it did my heart good. What a lucky woman I am.

Not to mention the fact that this time next week I shall be in Amsterdam. Then the north of Italy. Then ... (squee) ... PARIS again! Sigh. I'm almost jealous of myself.

Happy..everything

Its International Midwives' Day.

And our 24th wedding anniversary.

We're going out for dinner tonight.

I took some great photos of the kids just now....I'll have to load them and show you later...still borrowing other people's computers (sigh).

We've got a bath in today. And a spout. And pipes from all the walls in the right spots. And drainage pipes. And a glass block window. I even put one of the glass blocks in myself.

Photos to come. If I can be patient about it, so can you.

Many stories to tell from a very eventful first few days on visiting midwife duty. Cute babies. Lovely Mums, Dads and families. Did I mention cute babies?

My back is not good. Not at all. Very dodgy for the last week or so. Just what you need when driving all over and hauling bags and scales everywhere. Not aided by having a solid fall from a tiny wall yesterday. Don't ask. I'm just glad no-one had a camera on me. Thank God for woodchips, and no roses. Legs in the air, shoes, hair and bag everywhere. Half-in, half-out of the garden bed. What a dork. Luckily no real damage done.

I hope to have the computer dramas sorted in the next week. Who needs a bank balance?

My Make it in May is progressing quite well. I have done a bit of clay sculpting, made a bag, cut out some other stuff for another. Can we count thinking about things? Planning stuff? I've had a great idea for a Masters thesis! Today my blog posting may count as my creation. Its writing innit?

Ciao for now

20 years ago

This time twenty years ago I had started contracting after my waters were broken carefully, so no cord slipped through. The doctor was trying to induce me at 41 weeks and 2 days, but the baby was having none of it (below, 38 weeks, with my son, and friends)

I laboured all day, then when assessed at 3 pm-ish was not very dilated, but more effaced. Having had a v-e-r-y long latent phase with my first child I agreed to having some syntocinon put up to get things moving. I had a shower first, put on my favourite pink parrot earrings, then held out my arm for an IV and labour began again. I agreed to intermittent monitoring and refused to get on the bed at all.

Two hours and 16 minutes later...there she was. (above, 8 minutes of age, yes that is a Janet Jackson moment) A daughter, how delightful, a pigeon pair. A bit different (above, aged 6 months) a new experience for us, but our much wanted second child. (below - First day at school aged nearly 7, brother aged 10)

And now she is 20. We are so proud of her (below, taken this morning, aged 20)

Happy birthday darling.

Lighthouse love

Look what I found in a market today!

A set of cups and saucers with lighthouses on them! Just lighthouses! No extra nautical nonsense, just pure lighthouses and a bit of sunshineyness.I'm delighted with them. Don is shaking his head "where are we going to put those? We don't need any more cups and saucers, we don't use the ones we have now.....moan, whinge, rue"

Honey...its not about the drinking implements.

Look, there're four different ones- red, green, blue and PURPLE! LustAnyway, I just remembered I owe you a post about the Cape Naturaliste lighthouse. This lighthouse was completed in 1905, and manned until (um I've forgotten, but I think it was 1980 or so).

There were 3 lighthouse keepers and their families here, with a house each (one of them pictured above). They worked in shifts around the clock with jobs at the top and the bottom to be completed each 20 minutes. Pumping fuel up to the light, and rewinding the clockwork mechanism to keep it rotating, that was limited by the height of the tower. Sheesh!

This very accessible lighthouse is not too tall, which means we can all climb to the top without too much effort It was very windy. The flag was straining at the leash. There is a remote weather station inside which records wind gusts experienced at the lighthouse. It peaked at 33 knots while we were there. The interior is a round room with a spiral staircase leading to only two upper levels. The views and angles were pretty enticing to photograph. The walls were REALLY thick, and the windows offered interesting glimpses of the surroundings. On the first floor, we saw the turning mechanism for the lens, with a heavy mercury base for stability and glide. There were glimpses of the lens as it rotated above our heads. We saw it every 10 secs and it was really hard to get a shot of it.... Nope... Nope, missed it again...see what I mean? Ah, at least that one was a little more in focus. Then we went up to the next level. Here we had a chance to go out onto the exterior platform. It was REALLY windy. Steff was worried she'd blow away so she stayed inside when it was time to go outside on the upper railing.
I didn't have that concern...

South Africa is thataway.

Once again the shots of the rotating lens were hard to resist taking, even if they don't mean much. (Am I boring you? You had to be there I suppose). They keep the lens rotating 24/7 so the powerful lens doesn't focus the suns rays and set fire to the lighthouse.

When I came back inside I realized that every 10 secs there was the most amazing sequence of rainbows being flashed intermittently on the wall from the prisms above. Could I capture the best of them?

Nope....

Nope.... 27 shots later I gave up. Honest...there was a really broad one that was dazzling. We headed downstairs. They shine the brass railing every day...I was impressed...I was reluctant to leave. It was so compelling. I'm so glad I went.

I'm off to have a cup of tea now....I think I'll use the purple one.