DAILY PROMPT: Performance “I’m not in a band BUT…”

… it doesn’t mean that I can’t sing to express myself.

That was the first thing I thought of after reading today’s Daily Prompt http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/25/daily-prompt-we-got-the-beat/

I have always enjoyed singing and music in general.

From when I was little I would always sing along to my Pop’s Slim Dusty cassettes and vinyl records. I would sing along to my Mum’s Dire Straits album’s and anything she’d buy me when I was allowed to get something of my own.

I guess I have always used music as an outlet, as a way to explore myself, find out who I am, find music that I feel close to, that I feel a personal connection to.

I often partner a particular event to a song that I heard around the same time and when I hear it in the future, I usually have memories flood back to me, to that point in time when I first heard that song, or when that song played a special part in my life.

I most enjoy singing when I feel that I won’t be judged. I LOVE singing in the car along to my favourite songs. My kids have to put up with it regardless of if they like it or not.

When I was little I wanted to be a singer and sing in front of an audience. I did choir throughout school and even got to sing the solo sections in some songs.
I don’t know why I didn’t continue to follow my dreams, to chase those distant thought and turn them into a lifestyle, into a reality beyond my biggest dreams, hopes and aspirations.

Music and photography go hand in hand for me too.

I really enjoy shooting gigs, especially when it’s a friend’s band I’m catching. When I know what they’re playing, I know what to anticipate throughout the songs, I eagerly await each band members movements so I can hopefully get the “perfect” photo that night.
Although in saying that- I don’t think I have ever said that any of my photos are perfect.

There is ALWAYS room for improvement.

DP Challenge: Object. My camera.

Without a doubt, my object of choice for this challenge: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/24/writing-challenge-object/ , would have to be my camera.

As a hobby photographer, I have a couple of cameras but my Olympus SP570UZ would have to be my favourite.
It’s getting old now (in terms of technology), but we have been on many great outings together.

It has been with me to quite a number of gigs, shot countless macro images of flowers, bugs, interesting textures plus the usual family photos, photos of school assemblies and award days.

My camera is like my saviour. I feel that when I am behind it, I can do anything; like I am capable of doing whatever my heart desires and I don’t have to worry about being judged.

My camera gives me a freedom that I otherwise would feel is unachievable.
My camera lets my inner artist come out and show her face, the artist from within that brought me many moments of joy throughout my childhood but disappeared once I finished school and I felt I was then expected to “grow up”, to get a job, get on with life like everyone else and hide my imaginative side.

I was lead to believe that “artist” was not a viable job description. It wouldn’t be something that I could survive on, it wasn’t something worth pursuing.

My camera has given me many opportunities that I would have otherwise been too afraid of, too wary of, not had the guts to say “let’s do this!” and experience something that I may never experience again.

My camera has given me a sense of belonging and helped me feel like I fit in to places and experiences that I would normally steer clear of.




DAILY POST: Tainted Love

Isn’t it funny how the universe works?
I was talking to an acquaintance today about this exact topic and when I logged onto WP tonight, this was also the topic of the Daily Prompt. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/22/daily-prompt-tainted-love/
Here is my story-


I have only had 1 other real relationship.
I was fresh out of school, hadn’t really thought about getting into a relationship when a family friend made a move and as they say- the rest was history.

Well, it didn’t last forever.
Our relationship lasted about 18 months.

I was sure it was going to last forever. It felt so right at the time. I t felt like things were progressing nicely, I was sure we would be a couple for the rest of our lives.
2 people had many things in common with enough differences to keep things interesting as we continued to learn about each other, ourselves and the world around us.

The we had “the talk”.
You know the one. You feel the relationship is going along steady enough to take it to the next level.
It was time to talk about the possibility of marriage and the C word…

No, not commitment;

Apparently he was happy for us to get engaged and married when HE was ready to, BUT he did not want to be a Dad.


Ever is a long time, it’s so long in fact that it never ends.

At first I felt I could just brush it off, continue with the relationship and see how things go and maybe somewhere down the road he’d come around to the idea of having some little people; miniature versions of ourselves but with their own personalities share our home, our lives.
Steal a piece of our hearts.

It wasn’t to be the case. Whenever the topic surfaced again he’d quickly want to change the subject.

I think by that time he realised how much I did in fact want to bring a life into the world and it must have been then when he decided we should not continue to be a couple.

I’m not sure if there is a right or wrong way to dump someone.

I guess I always thought face to face was the best option. That way each person could read the others body language, an exchange of each others personal belongings could be arranged or occur and that sort of thing.

I received a phone call. He dumped me over the phone.
We then had to arrange an awkward meeting where he returned my belongings that I had at his house. That was probably the point when I knew the relationship had in fact come to an end.

He and I would never be together. Ever. Again.





I wish…

Beach & jetty views

I wish that I could sometimes just sit somewhere quiet and exist.

Just to sit down, maybe at a place somewhere like in the photo, and run my fingers in the sand if I feel like it, maybe walk slowly along the water’s edge looking out for any little sea creatures, Maybe even just sit quietly and watch the waves lap at the sand.

Some people may call it meditating but I don’t as I don’t believe I have the patience to meditate. I can, and sometimes do however, enjoy sitting somewhere and just trying to connect with Nature.

I have always felt close to nature. I enjoy going for bushwalks, I enjoy interacting with plants and animals. I enjoy how Nature takes me for who I am, how I am not expected to pretend to be a particular person or fit into a particular mould.
If I don’t feel like talking, I don’t have to. But then again, if I have a lot on my mind- I can get it all off my chest without having to worry about someone judging me on my thoughts at the time.

I wish life was simpler.
I wish I could take things slower without being made to feel bad about it.
I wish I could all be happy in my own way without having to explain myself to everyone.


DAILY PROMPT: I didn’t get fleas.

In response to today’s Daily Prompt ( http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/18/daily-prompt-west-end-girls/ ) I thought I would write about my childhood.

My Mum had me quite young and she was still living at home when she had me so I was lucky enough to have my Nan and Pop help raise me too. Well, I think they actually did more for me than what my Mum did but that’s a completely different kettle of fish.

I grew up in a not-so-great suburb where crime and drugs was a problem.
It wasn’t always like that.
My Pop bought the house in the 1940’s when the road out the front was still dirt and sheep and cattle would be moved along it. Everyone knew everyone and it was very safe but as the years went on, the area attracted a different “crowd”.
Housing commission houses/units were built (high density style) and most of the families that moved into the area were poor, they came from families who survived on welfare payments, those kids who’s parents worked usually worked hard labouring jobs and didn’t earn a great deal of money. Some friends Mum’s had to turn their garages into “mini sweat shops” where they would sew most hours of the day to meet their quotas sewing clothes for big brands and international companies for a small wage.
Many kids were “latch-key kids” from a young age, some as young as about 5years old. They would be expected to get themselves ready for school and come home to an empty house at the end of the school day while their parents worked.

I was one of the lucky ones. My family had a house to call our own that was paid off, I had 3 adults to be there for me whenever I needed them. Some of my friends would come over and play at our place, they’d often end up staying for a meal, occasionally we’d have sleep overs.

As I got older, my grandparents continued to instil their wisdom and their own upbringing on me. I learnt not to waste anything, I learnt to reuse and repurpose whatever I could and to recycle or compost what was left over. Almost nothing was rubbish as such.
One thing I will never forget is my Pop telling me “If you lie down with dogs, you’ll most likely get fleas”. Or in other words, if you mix with good, law-abiding people you’ll turn out good, but if you mix with people who continuously wanted to cause trouble, commit crimes and use drugs then you’d most likely end up following that path too.

Some of my friends came from honest families, other friends not so much.
From a young age I had been taught right from wrong and new what I should and shouldn’t be doing. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a saint, but I knew not to do things that would get me on the wrong side of the law.

When I was a teenager, the housing estate where most of my friends lived turned into a very scary place. Unfortunately the problems got worse as the media kept doing stories on how bad the area was becoming. The problem families (yes- the parents were causing as much trouble as the kids) would lap up all the (bad) attention they were getting and play up for the cameras even more.
Thankfully all the locals knew each other; not necessarily by name, but we recognised each others faces. When things were at their worst, I still felt relatively safe walking my little dog around the area. I could walk past gangs and nothing would be said. I think it must have been like a mutual respect type of thing. They knew I wouldn’t cause any hassles and I knew they wouldn’t hassle me if I didn’t give them a reason to.

As the years went on and I got older, I found more of my friends getting into trouble. I tried to help them how I could but I was not going to be led down the same path that they were going.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that even if you mix with people who do seem nice enough at the start but end up on the wrong side of the tracks, it doesn’t mean you have to end up like them.
I may have lied down with dogs at one point in my life, but I didn’t end up with fleas.

My Mum and Nan still live in the area but about a decade or so ago, the housing estate was demolished, replanned and reconfigured and rebuilt. Some of the old families got to move back in and a lot of new people moved in to the area.
Much of the crime has gone, but it’ll never be what it used to be.

Nothing ever is.


My dream job would be to run my own small business.

I have it all thought out in my head and hope to one day, possibly have this dream come true.
I know it will be a lot of hard work, long hours and a lot of love, sweat and tears.

I will have a little shop/museum/café in a country town. In it there will be a variety of collectables and antiques from my (and my hubby’s) personal collections as well as similar items for sale.
There will also be a little café selling home-style biscuits, cakes, slices, scones and other light meals. Beverages will include tea, coffee, milkshakes, smoothies and juices as well as pre-packaged drinks (soft drinks, etc).

I would go one step further by also offering for sale craft items and jams, chutneys and other tasty products made by people living in the district with a % of the profits going back to the community.

Pitter Patter, Pitter Patter

The rain is falling down
Pitter patter pitter patter
Falling to the ground.

It started raining last night and has been raining ALL NIGHT.
It’s great, fantastic even as we badly need the rain here as well as everywhere else around the country.
Some regions haven’t had a single drop of rain for a number of years now.

I just hope this rain keep up, continues to steadily fall all weekend where it is needed most.
I would love for it to rain like this for a week or even longer, to soak into the dry, parched, arid land and with time; green up once again.

DAILY PROMPT: Doing it my way.

If I could do something over again, it would have to be my wedding.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a lovely wedding.
It was at the location that I chose, it was small, relaxed and I got to wear my boots as I had wanted to.

I guess at the time I was trying to make people happy so I let my (soon to be) sister in law take over with some of the planning.
As soon as I got engaged to her brother, she pretty much told me that she and her best friend (at the time) would be my bridesmaids and her daughter and my toddler daughter would be in the bridal party as well. I didn’t want to upset anyone so I told her I guess that would be OK.

If I could do it all over again, I would choose the people I originally wanted as bridesmaids- my best friend and a good friend from high school.
I wouldn’t have any flower girls as I just wanted something simple, small, intimate, relaxed.
I wanted a day where I could marry the love of my life surrounded by our closest friends and family. Nothing fancy or over the top.

I would also change my wedding dress. I was pregnant when I got married and wanted to keep things as cheap as possible so bought a cream/off-white second hand ex-hire top and skirt. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it fit so I made it do.
I chose 2-piece red outfits for my bridesmaids. I would have liked to have had them worn Royal Blue but one of the Groomsmen had his hair dyed red at the time so I changed the wedding colour scheme to fit with his hair. (I’m nice like that.)

If I could do it all over again, I would wear red or blue myself and have my bridesmaids in white. It’s different, but it’s what I was thinking about at the time.

I was happy enough with the reception, I don’t think I’d change anything there- well, maybe I would like to actually get to eat something as I didn’t get a chance to eat on the actual day!

This year marks our 10 year Wedding Anniversary.
As yet we haven’t really planned to do anything but we have spoken about doing SOMETHING.
What that something will end up being- who knows???

When real life gets in the way of virtual life.

Isn’t it funny;
If we didn’t have internet connection, I wouldn’t be writing this blog, nor would you be reading it.

We seem to have come to rely on being connected to the virtual world almost 24/7 these days.
We seem to get upset, frustrated, worried and concerned if we don’t know what is happening online.

Our virtual lives may be better than the lives we live in real life, or they may be worse… they may even work hand in hand with each other.
I suppose it differs with each person.

A little while ago my virtual world was much more interesting and more attractive than what my real life has been,
but for the past week, it’s been the other way around.
I have been kept quite busy.
Some days it was doing things for other people… actually, most days it was doing things for others.
Sometimes I felt I was doing a good job, other times I felt I was being nothing but a burden to everyone whether I knew them or not.
On those bad days I felt like going into hibernation- hiding from the world until things got better again.
Those days were really bad for me as I would let everything get to me which has resulted in me getting next to nothing done.

It also stopped me contacting those who I feel close to (outside the house). I feel I have let my friends down as I haven’t been a very good friend lately, especially during my low days.

I wish I could just be happy like other people. I try to put a happy mask on and act as though nothing’s wrong, but lately it’s been hard for me to wear the mask.

My true feelings have been showing through too much.

The worst part is that when people ask how I am, all I seem to be able to manage is a shrug of my shoulders or saying “Same as always” or something to that effect.
I feel it is almost impossible for me to say exactly what I want to, to say exactly how I am feeling in fear that people will label me as being childish or trying to be an attention seeker.
The fact is that I am not trying to do either, I just feel like crap and can’t really explain why.

Some days I wish I could just drive somewhere nice, maybe a lovely shady park near a lake or creek or river, maybe in a little section of bush or a forest that is near by just so I can be at one with nature and try and reconnect with myself and nature in general.

I think the problem is a lot of the time I forget WHO I am.

I am always trying to please others and do what they need me to do for them. Much of the time what I do doesn’t seem to be enough, but the fact that I tried my hardest never seems to be good enough for them.

It’s quite soul-destroying really.
It is a vicious circle I’ve been stuck in for many years now.
As a child I tried my best and depending on who I was with, I was either a great little helper or nothing but trouble and a big hindrance. Sometimes behaving the same way would get mixed results- it just depended on who I was with at the time.

As a teen and young adult, I tried to please everyone I liked.
This often got me in trouble and as a result I was bullied. A. LOT.

During my school years, I tried to keep my bullies happy by buying them things so they wouldn’t hurt or tease me. Thankfully I received an allowance so I was able to bribe my bullies with lollies and such.
After I’d finished school and entered the workforce, I’d hoped that would have been the end of the bullying- after all, this was the “grown up, adult, working world” now.
How silly I was.

At first things were great. Everyone was friendly to the new girl. I tried to get to know all my workmates and then chose to be closer friends with a select few who I believed were really trust worthy.
Maybe I was just naïve, maybe I was too young and green to understand what others were capable of, how not everyone I would meet would be people I could trust.

I had, on a few different occasions, my so called friends take advantage of me.
I’d grown up a tom boy and had many true male friends growing up so felt more comfortable around guys than I did around other girls but that’s what got me in trouble. I was too trustworthy.

I kept it a secret for over a decade. I was too scared to tell anyone what they had done to me as I felt that it was my fault. I’d been told it was my fault as I told my boyfriend at the time what had happened and he didn’t seem to have any sympathy for me, nor did he offer to help me. He simply told me that I must have led them on and it was all my fault.

I have found it very hard to completely recover from.
I still get flash backs which affects my relationship with my husband (who I didn’t even know at the times I was abused).
For some strange reason, it feels wrong writing that I was abused. I guess I have always felt that it was my fault so I shouldn’t be making myself a victim now, even though I was a victim at the time.

I get angry at myself for letting it happen.
I get annoyed that the flashbacks still seem to rule my life at times, usually at the most inconvenient times.

It’s feelings like that that stop me from doing things I enjoy.
Even stop me from doing completely unrelated things such as going online and such. It just seems to get too much to handle and I feel that I can’t concentrate enough to get anything done.

I just wish there was an easy cure………