Noted

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “note.”

Well here goes… although this post will certainly not be of keynote standard, hopefully, it is noteworthy enough to keep you reading.

It must be noted, there are many definitions of the word, note:

• to notice or observe with care
• to record or preserve in writing
• to make special mention of or remark on
• a tone
• a call
• a sound
• a characteristic feature (as of odor or flavor)
• an observation of reputation

One of the most delightful meanings for me of course, is ‘note‘ as in the notes we write in our notebooks – whether they be real, imaginary (yes, I have my own mental notebook) or digital (e.g. this blog).

I acknowledge, that there is often no ‘hard cash’, no banknotes, involved in blogging (unless of course, you are unbelievably lucky and/or talented). But that’s ok with me. I am not in it for fame and fortune. A blog for me, denotes a safe place; somewhere I can dump my innermost thoughts and feelings… which I may or may not see through to ‘Publish.’ (And yes, the connotation in that is correct: I am not 100% comfortable sharing anything and EVERYTHING!)

It would be remiss of me not to give a shout-out to another of my favourite kind of notes – those of the tasting notes in alcohol and top/middle/base notes of the perfume variety. I am endlessly fascinated by the alchemy that goes into blending and brewing, wine, beer, gins and fragrances. It is amazing also, how individual tastes and body chemistry can skew these seemingly straightforward concepts and make them quite polarising. (and if you don’t know what I mean, think about that guy who drowns himself in aftershave, or the animated/slightly heated discussions held with friends about beer and wine!)

Anyway, let’s wrap this whole thing up, with a footnote (which as always, is one of my terrible jokes…)

A music note walked into a bar. The barman said, "Sorry, we can't serve you. You're A Minor."

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 4 May

Unlit

You convinced me to like you, even when I didn’t.

Not particularly, anyway.

You told me I was your world, when I knew, in fact, you had many worlds without me.

You nestled in; curling yourself around my psyche, and taking root like a pernicious weed.

Your voice became my voice somehow.

Your actions, mine too.

I couldn’t think without you.

You were a drug, and I was hooked.

Which was strange, because I didn’t even like you, not particularly.

But the more I craved you, the less you wanted me. The more I sought your attention, the less you gave. The more you became my obsession, the less I was yours.

And soon, I found myself adrift; alone in a hostile room.

Everything became my fault. Apologies tumbled from my lips; a constant stream. And all the while, my core screamed, “Why? This isn’t right!”

Finally, when I was completely broken, you left me there where I was.

Empty.

A husk.

I didn’t recognise myself anymore…

…and neither did others.

– – –

Purveyor of poisoned words, I didn’t know what gaslighting meant before I met you.

But now I do, and it’s made me strong again.

I will never be convinced to like someone when I don’t, not particularly.

Because I like myself more than that…

By Sarah ©2024

RegALEd

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “rhymes with ale.”

There’re so many words,
that rhyme with ale!
In fact, such a range,
how could I fail?
This venture shall keep
my mind hearty and hale.
While others around me
may simply flail,
I’ll pick up the hammer
and pick up a nail;
I’ll pitch some ideas
to put in my pail.
(And hopefully somehow,
hit holy grail)
But if I can’t,
it’s not beyond pale.
For whatever I write,
will not be stale…
nor boring, nor trite,
nor ailing in tale.
Perhaps I’ll discuss
a walrus and whale?
Or maybe a cat who’s
chasing its tail?
A hound, nose to ground,
and following trail?
Or birds that can’t fly,
like emu and quail?
Or the silvery tracks
of an industrious snail?
Maybe a farmer with hay
yet to bale?
Or a postman who cannot
deliver his mail?
Perhaps a smoothie,
without any kale?
Or soprano who can
no longer keep scale?
A bride who tripped,
on her vows and her veil?
(while the groomsmen are reading
these words from the jail)
Or maybe… it’s time
for this poem to bail?
It seems, all these rhymes
have got a bit frail.
So I’ll hop in my boat,
and set off to sail
across calmer oceans
with ne’er a gale.
I’ll follow the skies,
avoiding the swale,
and find me some pirates
with whom to regale.
Oh yes, I’ve completely
gone off my rail.
Forget the pitcher,
and fill the pail
…with deliciously cold
and frothy, pale ale!

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. What do you get when you cross a glow worm and beer?

A. Light ale!

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 24 February

Magic Moments

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “photograph.”

This has tickled me this morning as I have, literally, just been sent a cracking photograph of myself from last night’s djembe gig with Hit ‘n’ Miss.

Let me give you some context. I had had a rough day: busy at school, a meeting with the aged care team for my mother, and a mad dash into the city complete with carpark crisis, all before I got there.

We were also up first on the Civic Square Stage for the 2024 Multicultural Festival, which is kind of a big deal for our little group.

Despite downing an energy drink beforehand, my brain was a little mushy (not ideal for the cognitive load that was about to hit). I had just muddled my way through my Moribayassa solo (mediocre by my usual standards) and was heading back to my spot for the ending when I realised I wasn’t going to make it! I was stuck, awkwardly, in no man’s land with my back to the audience.

So thinking quick, I flicked up my heel, turned my head to the crowd and shot them a cheesy grin, complete with wink… and held this pose as my “on-the-fly-finale.”

Once the rhythm was over, I cursed inwardly and scurried back into formation, chastising myself harshly for the incident.

And then I got this photo.

If I had not told you the above story, what would your thoughts about this picture be?

I know what it tells me. I see a girl, frozen in time, looking like she is having the best fun ever, playing her drum.

( …as opposed to the in-my-head ‘car crash’ that I assumed it was).

It got me thinking, how photography really is about providing perspective. It can select a viewpoint and weave a tale around it; hiding the facts to tell whatever story you want it to.

And because of this image, the actual narrative for me has now changed too. I see myself how the audience would have seen this play out; not as a mishap or mistake, but a joyful moment. All captured as part of the experience of being a performer.

And that really is magical…

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. What are people scared of photographers?

A. They can snap at any moment.

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 17 February

In the light of darkness…

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “heavy/light/dark.”

This made me think of how last year, I attended a poetry evening, where the guest poet reflected, “The most common subject written about is that of light and shadows.”

He is right of course… but this observation still struck me; especially since it is a topic I often explore in my own writing.

It is interesting, that light can both refer to visible light, illumination; and also, the weight, or pressure of something. I also don’t believe it is happenstance that the words ‘dark’ and ‘heavy’ are synonymous with bad times in our lives… and that there is solely ‘light’ to oppose them both; to act as a remedy. Or buffer. In fact, even the way Linda phrased this prompt “heavy/light/dark” demonstrates how light is the abstract that is able to put some distance between the two.

A favourite book that I love to read to the children in my class is The Tale of Despereaux, by Kate Di Camillo. (Side note: if you have not read this, you simply must treat yourself to this treasure). Throughout the novel, as it twists and weaves, we are reminded that ‘light is precious in a world so dark.’ But what Kate DiCamillo doesn’t make obvious, is that with the darkness, also comes a heaviness. There is a certain weight that is carried in our darker times. As if the air is sapped from around us. And sometimes this feeling stays with us, even when the light returns.

As the eldest of six children, with my ageing parents declining rapidly before my eyes, it feels like the heaviness has set in for a while. It’s not easy when the children have to start parenting parents, who are acting like children. There is a long, tricky road to navigate ahead… for all of us.

So I am trying to be lighter in myself, by letting go of the things that I can’t change or influence, and doing what I know I can to lighten the load for others. (And if all else fails, take a deep breath and remind myself, that this too shall pass).

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. What one traffic light say to the other traffic light?

A. Don't look! I'm changing.

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 10 February

This Goose Has Spruced

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “spruce.”

Now, being only two days until Christmas, one immediately thinks of spruce trees; iconically Christmas, and symbolic of the silly season.

However, this year, for the first time (ever I think), we don’t have one.

With Christmas 2023 being spent away from home, we kinda didn’t see the point in putting up a tree (bah humbug I know 😆 yet not entirely grinchy! I did hang some tinsel).

But that doesn’t mean there hasn’t been other kinds of ‘spruce’ around the house…

My sister and her partner are housesitting while we’re away. So of course, a little sprucing was in order. I keep a clean and tidy house at the best of times, but for some reason, having people stay makes it feel like there is a spotlight on this. Plus I want them to have a nice visit. So scrub a dub dub!

Next, I added a bit of spruce to myself with some Christmas/ NYE nail bling 💅🏻, a new dress and of course, a pre-holiday haircut.

Even the doggies did not escape, both having their Summer grooms to spruce them up before their holiday at mum and dad’s.

So while yes, the tree is quintessentially Christmas, there have been some other ways to spruce up the Christmas vibe… even sans tree!

(Oh, and if all else fails, there’s always The Simpsons…)

Here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. Why was the spruce tree upset? 
A. Because all of the poplar kids made fun of him!

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 23 December

The 500

Water slaps against the side of the boat. I hold myself in the brace position, ready for the start. Leaning forward, my legs are pushed firmly against the floor and gunwale; my back rotated, and arms long and straight. The blade of my paddle, is deep beneath the surface of the lake and my fingers are curled around its handle; fingertips tickling the icy water.

I suck in a deep breath, filling my lungs. All I can hear is my heart thumping as I wait for the starting gun. Beside me, my bench buddy whispers, “We got this.”

I nod and close my eyes and focus.

I hear the starter, “Are you ready?”

I add extra tension to my muscles, arms ready to pull the blade.

“Attention.”

Here it comes, I think to myself.

It is a second’s hesitation; a suspended moment of anticipation until the gun blares and we are off, spurred into action.

I slip into the start routine we have practised for months and months. Ten long, deep strokes to lift the boat out of the water. Mentally, I check them off.

Then the transition comes, twenty short, fast strokes to build the speed. We are in sync; this dragonboat crew, and rapidly find ourselves moving into second position.

Eyes down, I remind myself, head in the boat. This is how the best laid plans unravel in a race. And so, I try to keep my focus on the lead stroke, front left, and push down harder on the blade, each hit bringing us closer to home.

We are in the mid-phase of the race now and need to maintain a solid yet punchy pace. 500m racing is neither in the realm of sprint, like a 200m, nor endurance, like the 2km. It is cast painfully, in between the two.

The 350m mark is the toughest point. The burn of fatigue fires like a beacon in every muscle, and lungs burst; unable to keep up with the required intake of oxygen to push through.

Yet, somehow they do.

With 80m to go, I am yearning for it to be over but I know this is when I need to dig the deepest; find some dazzling courage and empty the tank.

This is the moment. The sweep calls, “Go now!”

And we do; we have to because none of us wants that bittersweet, second place. Only gold will do.

We must have caught the other team in a slumber, comfortable in their lead, because suddenly we surge and are upon them.

Sweep oar with sweep oar.

Tail with tail.

Engine room with engine room.

Bow with bow.

Each stroke bobs the lead back and forth, all the way to the finish.

Our dragon head nudges the line first, by 0.09 of a second.

We don’t stop until we hear the call, “Easy.“

Gasping and broken, yet laughing and ecstatic, we pat each other on the back, knowing the bling will be worth it.

And then we get ready to do it all again…

By Sarah ©2023

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 633

Bake Off

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “bake…”

…and given today’s weather forecast, this is… well, perfect.

I am visiting a friend in Sydney for the weekend, and temperatures here are set to bake.

Luckily, she lives right by the beach, so in an effort to keep cool, today was spent splayed out on a (shady) section of sand; eating fish and chips, staying hydrated and dipping in and out of the water as needed. Plus we engaged in a good old chin-wag and catch up all the while.

But as we chatted, an observation arose out of our conversation that stuck with me: the number of sunburned people running around.

Despite the Cancer Council’s best efforts, it seems us Aussies still like to bake our bodies under the hot Summer sun.

So my SoCS point is simply, a PSA:

Don’t forget to slip, slop, slap everyone!

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. Why did the bread break up with his girlfriend?
A. Because the relationship was crumbling!

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 16 December

To Me To You

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “to me.”

To me, these words hold so many options to explore. So let’s just dive in and see where this ends up…

“To me.” It’s all about perspective, isn’t it? To me, something that may be important, crucial, a deal breaker; to someone else, may not mean very much at all.

Our values, our beliefs, our nature, our nurture, form our “to me’s” from an early age. They a part of our core; our fundamental identity. Which is what makes it so tricky when you encounter someone who does not share your “to me” perspectives.

Don’t get me wrong. Difference is good. Difference is necessary. But at times, difference equates to difficulties, misunderstandings and conflict.

To me, conflict is terrifying and uncomfortable. So for better or worse, I have learned to be somewhat of a peacekeeper and try to avoid it.

To me, this means I don’t get things right 100% of the time.

To me, making decisions is hard because of this.

To me, this means I am not always as assertive as I should be in my relationships. (Which is ironic, since I have no hesitation being assertive/in command in my classroom. Maybe it’s because there is a set hierarchy to be followed?)

But what I realise, after reflecting on this today, is that mostly… whether to me, or to you, I try to strike the balance between the two.

And to me, in the words of Ratcat, “that ain’t bad…”

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. What did one plate say to the other?
A. Dinner's on me!

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 9 December

Just Another Kayaking Post

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “confidence.”

I know I talk about kayaking… a lot. But I can legitimately link it to today’s inspiration. I promise!

Today was one of those brooding, overcast early summer days here in Canberra. Slightly muggy with that threat of rain; imminent at any moment. Not a breath of wind meant it was perfect paddling weather. Of course.

Today I launched from Lotus Bay (one of my favourite beaches because I can usually get in and out without too much fuss. And there is always coffee readily available at the nearby yacht club). But this morning it was quiet. Very quiet. A veritable calm before the storm.

As I struck out across the “gauntlet,” I reminded myself that this kind of thing isn’t for everyone. I took pause midway to appreciate that feeling of being vulnerable. Alone. Adrift. And I love it.

I paddled my way over to the shallows on the far shore and proceeded to poke around. I was not disappointed – the bird life was next level.

A crackle of gang gang cockatoos flying overhead toward the Botanic Gardens.

A flight of cormorants drying their wings on fallen branches.

A squawk of swamphens preening on the bank.

A commotion of coots cruising the coattails of my wake.

A squabble of seagulls sentry-like on the shoreline.

A bevy of black swans foraging amongst the aquatic weeds; bottoms up and webbed feet splaying outwards.

And my favourite, a raft of wood ducks rattling around in the reeds; mum and dad, with juveniles in tow.

It always makes me giggle; the bravado of these ducks. Nonchalantly they appear to move about, whether on land or water, yet, all the while keeping one wary eye upon you. I am always careful to go slowly and respectfully when inspecting birdlife, allowing myself to drift and move with the current, controlling only with my rudder.

Unfortunately, despite their outward confidence, they are still easily disturbed and always take flight before I can get too close.

Well, except for one little guy.

As the rest of his clan, did the walk-on-water-half-scurrying-half-flying-away motion, he stuck to his resolve. Not moving… one bit.

The consternation of mother-duck was palpable as she honked madly at him to move away.

But he didn’t.

He confidently held his ground (well, okay water) and let me get so close we made eye contact.

A beautiful moment held for mere seconds, before he too, took flight.

It reminded me that confidence can be fleeting. And sometimes that’s all it needs to be…

(Oh, and for the record, that storm? It rolled in about two hours later)

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. Where is the most confident place to be?
A. The beach - it is 100% shore.

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 2 December

Closing Time

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “something that closes.”

In terms of a topic, this one seems pretty open and shut.

But in fact, it’s not that simple. You see, I am notoriously bad at not closing things!

“Some examples please,” I hear you say.

Well ok.

First of all, I like natural air flow in my house… so this means there is always a door, a window, a screen that is left open to the outside world. This is wonderful, but obviously not without its problems.

Like when it rains.

Like when the dog gets out.

Like when wind gusts blow over all the indoor pot plants.

You get the gist.

I also tend to leave my wardrobe door open. Much to the chagrin of others in the house.

In my defense, I’m a woman. I have a lot of clothes… and shoes… and handbags… and hats… and accessories; all of which are in my walk-in robe. Call me lazy (I say efficient) but the constant in-and-out to get things is annoying if a door is always shut in front of me. I propose a door removal! That should make everyone happy, right? 😆

Closing the cupboard in the laundry is also something I don’t like to do. Only because it sticks and I can never get it open again!

But one thing I do know how to shut, is my mouth. I can keep a secret like nobody’s business. Being trustworthy is a really important quality to me, as is being loyal to those who entrust me.

I have also never been much for gossip, so that is another benefit of keeping your mouth shut. In fact “be kind, or be quiet” is something I tell the students in my class often.

This sometimes means I may not be as assertive as I should be in certain situations, but hey, I guess I can live with that! Case closed.

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. What did the surgeon say to the patient who insisted on closing up his own incision?
A. Suture self

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 25 November

Clowning Around

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “clown.”

As someone who suffers from mild Coulrophobia (ok, I may be understating this), the thought of a stream of consciousness on this topic was a little tricky.

So this week, I’m keeping it brief with an off-the-cuff acrostic…

C uriously creepy, with both smile and frown, their laughter and sadness draws them renown.

L abelled as Whiteface, Auguste, or Tramp, these entertainers put on their mask, with own stamp

O f wildest humour and characterful wit, they’re more than capable of putting on a skit

W hether they be happy, slapstick or dark, there’s a clown for each season, reason and mark. But.

N o matter your viewpoint, they’re just not for me. I won’t be found… if clown I do see!

For all those clown-minded folk out there, good for you!

Kudos to Josh and Chuck from Stuff You Should Know for this brilliant podcast on How Clowns Work. You didn’t cure me but it sure was an interesting listen!

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. Why was the clown sad?
A. Because he broke his funny bone

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 18 November

Feedback

As mentioned yesterday in my SoCS post, my sisters and I have enjoyed a lovely weekend away.

Upon leaving our accommodation this morning, I spied a ‘Guest Book’ and decided why not?

And so, I left some feedback…

in the form of a limerick

…of course 😆

"There once were some girls on vacation,
who stayed in this fabulous location.
The house was amazing.
The fire pit was blazing.
Thanks for these memories worth making!"

I do hope our hosts get a giggle out of this little ditty!

I know we did…

Self? Examination

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “create.”

I am away this weekend with my sisters, celebrating a 40th birthday and partying in style. We are staying at an Air BnB in Bermagui, NSW, in some digs where the owner has certainly exhibited his creativity …he has, in fact, created all the artwork that can be found in our (luxurious) accommodation.

Here are some wonderful examples of his work…

But this one? It has left us scratching our heads…

Perplexed, my sisters and I have come up with:

• Look at yourself?
• Where do you sea yourself?
• Sea your self?
• Questioning self?
• Mount yourself?
• Land yourself?
• Upside down self?
• Take a peak at yourself ?
• A land and sea of self?

…or, is it as simple as, self made?

Or even, self reflective? We couldn’t work it out! Even backwards!

I guess that’s the thing when it comes to creating. The interpretation is up to you… and we are interested to hear your thoughts!

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

Q. Why don't vampires create their own companies?

A. Because they don't like stakeholders 

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 11 November

Meted Out

Linda’s prompt for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “meat/meet/mete.”

This week has been a week. And one where I have meted out more than my fair share of cranky-pants teacher moments.

To be honest, I hate when I am like this. It is not my natural state of being and it is exhausting. But at the same time, I am not willing to compromise; to settle for behaviour that is less than acceptable and conducive to learning.

Yes, we are approaching the end of the Australian school year, but we still have six weeks to go. If I let things slip now, it will be to the detriment of myself and my students. Not on my watch.

I have been told I can be a hard task master. But I don’t agree. I have standards.

Expectations.

Boundaries.

And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

I just need the students to meet me halfway.

I think part of it is that the kids can feel the end is near. Not to be dramatic – but they can feel the end of our time together; as a class, community, and entity. And this is scary and unsettling (for everyone!)

I am so proud of how far my kids have come this year. It is difficult to build such strong relationships only to have to hand them over, and move on. I mean, the kids are always fine but, as the adult, you realise your influence is important, yet fleeting. Talk about a reality check.

A teacher’s life can be a transient beast… We are merely meat in a sandwich. Sometimes we just need to stay the course…

As always, here’s a terrible joke to end with…

A vegan once said to me, "People who sell meat are gross!"

I replied, "People who sell fruit and veg are grocer."

Linda G. Hill:
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 4 November