Chasing Crabs...

In the late 80's/early 90's I had a wonderful job as a promotions consultant for a tourism marketing company. One of my roles was to produce brochures for different regions in Western Australia.

I was looking through one of my old Mandurah brochures, just the other day. The population, at that time, was 26,000 people. I'm guessing it was published in about 1992. This city has now boomed to around 80,000 people, and is growing all the time!

The name Mandurah orginates from the name Australian Aboriginal word Manjar meaning 'meeting place'. The crowds down there, on any Summer weekend, shows this aquatic playground is still popular for just that..meeting, picnics, boating and family fun!

Yesterday, we decided to take our boat and a group of excited kids to go crabbing and fishing in the Dawesville Cut section of the estuary. What an amazing success that project has been!

We planned the outing for a week. We purchased a range of nets, scoops and buckets. We sourced the best bait, after much research. A picnic lunch was prepared (we had a feast of chicken, rissoles and salads with fresh bread rolls).

Nets $50

Scoops $40

Bait $10

Parking $10

Lunch/drinks $50

Boat $25,000

Children priceless

We arrived at the boat ramp early. The weather was a little bit windy, but pleasantly warming up. We piled the children, 3 adults, and our mountain of crab ammunition on to the 16ft vessel. We were going to be having crabs for dinner!

We set out across the estuary, full of enthusiasm. We admired the numerous other nets, bobbing around with their pristine little white floats. Our collection was more unique; we had a selection of orange juice cartons, soft drink bottles, chopped up blocks of foam, and our one magical brand new float. We had baited our nets with sheep necks, and we were optimistic!

While the nets were awaiting their prey, we ventured in to more shallow ground, to go scooping for crabs.

As the kids got in to the water, there were cries of ,"ewww!" and ,"yuck!" and, "did something just sting me?!?"

Dan, one of the adults, was the leader of the crab chasers. He lead the children through the weed and mud, showing them just how it was done. Just as the group was starting to become despondent, there was a shriek of glee as Dan scooped one enormous blue creature out of the water. The children all followed him, excitedly, back to the boat, ensuring this thrashing crustacean was impounded in the empty bucket. Success!

The chasers continued for a while, without any luck. There was the occassional crab, but all were sadly undersized, and put back to grow for next season.

The nets were then lifted and checked, but the bait was hammered by feasting blow fish and other small creatures, but no crabs!

We made a few further attempts, then pulled the boat on to a secluded, shaded beach, and feasted on our lunch basket, while the kids played around in the shallow water. What a beautiful day! the wind had dropped, the sun was beating down, and the kids were having a ball.

At the end of the day, 4 sizeable crabs were caught by the crab chasers...not enough for a feast, but enough for everyone to have a taste.

Now, you can buy crabs at the local markets for about $16.95 a kilo, but our crabs were boutique crabs for a pricely sum. The taste of crabs you catch yourself, mixed with the joy and enthusiasm of small children?...well, there is no price you can put on those!

photo from http://www.shadesofgray.org.uk/Pictures/Medium/Crab.jpg

Never Too Old to Dream: How I ended up in Cert IV Public Relations

This is the Berlin Wall. This photo shows the East and the West, with the death zone in between. It wasn't until I saw the Berlin wall, last September, that I truly appreciated what freedom we have today and how easily it can be lost.

We are very lucky in Australia. With our recent mineral and housing booms, Perth offers even more opportunity. Yes, things have slowed down, but I am optimistic about our stability and future.

I have been a bit of a lost soul for the past few years. I had become stagnant and not sure what direction my life was heading in. I had obtained the label of mother and housewife and began to feel my indentity was being lost, or did I even have an identity to begin with?

Sometimes life's decisions are directed by circumstance.

When I met my husband, he was young and already successful. He was career driven and knew what direction he was heading in. He was three years younger than me, but he had a maturity about him, and he impressed me with his intelligence and ambition.

I had just returned from Europe. I had a passion for travel and was always very restless and impulsive, unlike the young accountant.

We met at a party, through mutual friends. I was a ballroom dancer, and one of my dancing friends had been doing commerce with Nigel at uni. We were introduced, but I wasn't initially impressed. I had left a boyfriend in Scandanavia, and wasn't interested in a new man.

Over the months, he persevered, and eventually he won my heart. I agreed to marry him two years later, and we have been together ever since..that was 17 years ago.

Life isn't always the way you plan it. We wanted the big house, the nice cars, the family. We wrongly assumed the family would be the easiest of these to achieve. Two years in to that journey, we realised our dreams might not all go to plan.

Anybody who endures infertility knows the pain and confusion that goes with it. You literally put your lives on hold 'just in case'. It's hard to plan holidays, jobs or anything 'in the future'. Suddenly, you don't know what your future is, and your dreams start to look a little tattered.

It was a very difficult time. I was working long hours, with early starts, in a media monitoring company. I enjoyed my work and the people around me, and I thrived on the pace, meeting deadlines, and the unpredictability of it.

I don't want to go in to too much personal detail, but one of the hardest blows for us, was actually getting pregnant, then losing our much wanted baby. The stress of my job was possibly a factor, so we decided it might help if I left.

This was a major turning point in my life and personality. I lost confidence and became withdrawn. I felt like a failure as a woman, I didn't know what to do with my life if I wasn't a mother, and my place in the world became unclear.

Nigel and I sat down and discussed how we would best live our lives without being parents. We had to create new dreams and new direction. We were now 5 years in to our infertility battle.

I had previously worked in marketing and felt that was where I had most enjoyed myself. I saw this as a possible study option and enrolled to study Tourism and Marketing at Edith Cowan.

I don't know if I believe in God, but I do have to wonder who/what dictates our lives. I feel like there's someone controlling our destiny, as sometimes the unexpected happens when you least expect it.

On the day I found out I had been accepted in to Edith Cowan, I found out I was pregnant!

The pregnancy was not an easy one and full of complications. Studying full time was not a sensible idea, and this miracle pregnancy had to take priority. This is something I will never regret, and my son is truly my most wonderful achievement.

I remained at home with Tom, for the first couple of years....years I will forever cherish.

Then came the time for Tom to start school, and for me to find a new way to occupy my time. The employment market had started to boom, and Nigel desperately needed administration staff. I had the skills he needed, he was able to give me flexible working hours, and it really did suit our family.

Women, over the years, often fall in to the habit of putting themselves last. I guess I come from a pretty old fashioned breed where your husband comes first, then you do the best for your children, with your dreams pushed to somewhere in the distant background.

The problem with this is, you eventually become miserable. You tend to feel worthless as a person, you don't feel like you have had any self achievement, and you can get in to a rut where you wonder what more is out there.

I am lucky enough to have great communication in my marriage. Nigel and I don't always understand or agree with each other, but we are pretty good at compromising and working together, which is why we succeeded as a couple, working together in the same practice. We never took our fights to the office, and the rest of the staff have really appreciated this about us.

The fact is, I really don't like the accounting profession. It is certainly reputeable, and I love dealing with clients, but there's no accident that I actually failed this subject in my TEE!

My passion has always been writing. I have been writing mass amounts of material since I was in primary school. I have always had penpals, written poetry, been on bulletin boards since the internet started...pretty much used any vehicle to express myself and share my views. I read extensively, am interested in the world, love travelling and experiencing all I can.

I have been contemplating further studies, for some time now. I couldn't really decide which path would best utilise my current skills, offer some kind of career opportunities and , perhaps most importantly, make me happy.

I spoke to close friends and family, and listened to their suggestions and advice. We looked at a few different options, and all agreed that Public Relations was a good place to start.

Now, just three weeks in to the course, I am so happy this is where I am. I love the lecturers, the other students, the campus and getting up each morning with purpose. My mind is buzzing so much, I can barely sleep at night. I have new ideas, new goals, new dreams, new ambitions and feel alive!

Keith, especially, has been such an inspiration. His energy and passion is contagious, and he makes you want to be the best you can possibly be.

Yes, I may be 40, but I still have the ability to dream and know there is a future out there for me. I don't have obstacles like the Berlin Wall in front of me. The only obstacles I have, are the invisible ones I have placed there myself!

This is my solution to long weekends and school holidays....

A mum's got to do what a mum's got to do ;)

A Paltry Expose of Juxtaposed Words...

I choked on a salty Dorito.

The Spin Doctor of the Confessional...

My son Tom is almost 12 and has started year 7 at a Catholic high school.

While eating dinner tonight, he shared the events of his day. There's always a 'story'. He glows with excitement as he announces, "We had confession today!". I looked at him with amazement and said, "That would have been interesting; you haven't been since you were 8, what could you have possibly told the priest"

Tom cheerfully replied, "I changed my friend's locker combination, I hid the kid over the road's bike, I don't always do what my dad tells me to do".

I was stunned and said,"Did you really do the first two things?!?"

"Of course I didn't", Tom replied, "I had couldn't think of anything bad I had done, so I wanted to make myself sound interesting."

Following the Black Line: fund raising and promoting a swim club

The sport of swimming is not for everyone; it takes commitment, discipline, extreme fitness and the sheer will to get up at 4.30am for training, especially on cold mornings!

Our involvement in the sport was quite accidental. Our son Tom was born premature and was expected to have delays in his physical development, as a consequence. One of the midwives, at the hospital where he was born, suggested we get him in to the water as soon as possible, to strengthen his muscles.

Tom was introduced to the water at 5 months. He loved it from the start! he joined other babies for baby and parent classes. Initially, his dad would take him along, and I would get some 'me time' for a little while on a Saturday morning.

This became a regular ritual, as Tom moved through the different stages, enjoying the water more and more. By the age of 4, he spoke about being 'The Milo Man' when he grew up. He had seen an advertising poster at the local pool, that showed Australian butterflyer, Jeff Hugall, as the face of Milo.

Shortly after, he got to see Hugall swim at Challenge Stadium at the Australian Championships. We now laugh back at this small 4 year old boy who cried and said, "When will it be my turn to swim here?"

By the age of 7, it was apparent Tom had a lot of promise as a swimmer, and was very much in love with the sport. He had seen the South Lake Dolphins Swim Club training at the pool, when he was there for his lessons. The coach of the Dolphins had noticed him too, and invited him to join the club.

In his first season, he qualified to swim at the 8's and unders at the WA State Championships, and his best stroke was butterfly, just like his hero.

This was all very new to us. Neither of us are swimmers, and neither of us knew just how much our lives were about to change.

We had already been involved in teeball and junior football, but the training load of swimming is so much more.

There's a common misconception in the community that swimming is a sport for selfish individuals. When trying to promote the sport to parents, you often hear, "I would prefer my son/daughter to play a team sport". No other sport has given us the sense of 'team', more than swimming.

Being involved in a swim club has been an eye opener. Only a swimming family really knows just how tiring, involved and rewarding the sport is. Without supportive families and volunteers, swimming would not survive.

It takes a lot of money to keep the club running. I have always been impressed by how our club goes about this, and the effort the parents, swimmers and friends put in.

Our club is one of the most successful clubs in Perth. They have managed to attract, maintain and nurture many promising junior swimmers. I feel the success of the club is based on its belief that it is a club, a team, and not just a group of individuals.

There are regular camps, country meets, movie nights, picnics, ten pin bowling nights and discos, to help form a bond. It may surprise some to know that most swimmers will swim their best times when they are part of a relay team, showing just how much they are commited to their club and team.

Keith talked about fund raising and volunteers in our class this morning. So much of what he said, felt so close to home. Trying to secure extra money, for swimmers to go to Nationals etc, is an ongoing mission.

Some of our fundraising activities have included; raffle ticket selling, quiz nights, car rallies, sausage sizzles, poker games, selling chocolates, movie nights, prize money from participating in certain events, securing sponsorship support from local businesses and even hosting our own swimming events.

Our current project is to raise money to send a group of 20 swimmers to the Australian Institute of Sport in Canberra for an intensive sports training camp. All those going had to have met, or be close to national qualifying times, meaning they can compete in the Australian Championships, with the hope of being in the Olympics, Commonwealth Games or World Swimming Championships one day. I'm proud to say that Tom is part of this group

The main method of fundraising has been raffle ticket selling. Swimmers have been given books to sell in the community, but the most successful sales have been from setting up a table and display at local shopping centres.

Using the young swimmers, themselves, has proved to be very effective. The adults have had no luck selling any, but shoppers have been very generous to the young ones, standing proudly in their club's uniform. The kids have been running a tally to see who has sold the most, setting up a little competion amongst themselves, helping to motivate them to sell more.

The display and raffle has also been incredibly effective in promoting the club to other junior swimmers. At a recent 3 day stint at the Gateway Shopping Centre, the club ran out of information brochures on the very first day. I believe they have successfully recruited more swimmers, which has been a great bonus.

Belonging to a swim club like South Lake Dolphins is like being part of a family. There's a massive amount of encouragement and support, and you feel like you are part of something worthwhile. This is why so many parents are prepared to put up their hands to help out, and why so many have remained in the club, when their children have stopped following the black line and have moved on.

Eco Warriors or Eco Cowboys?

Captain Bethune is currently detained on a Japanese whaling vessel, the Shonan Maru#2. He will remain onboard, until this vessel returns to Japan, where he is expected to face charges of piracy. Is he a hero or just an over zealous bully?

Sea Shepherd do not deny being pirates, hence their black and white logo. They even take pride in their image...they are the militants of the sea. Their goal is basic; to conserve and protect marine wildlife, which includes their mission to stop the practice of whaling. Their history goes back to 1977, when they were established by Captain Paul Watson in Vancouver, Canada.

Green Peace have been campaigning against whaling for years, yet it still goes on. They have become more mainstream and accepted in society, so lack the clout and shock power they had when we once believed they were just a bunch of tree huggers.

I don't profess to know all about the organisation, but I am starting to read up and learn as much as I can. I may not agree with their hard core tactics, but I do have a lot of admiration for anybody who is prepared to put their life on the line for something they strongly believe in.

I first heard about Sea Shepherd about a year ago at The Veronicas' and Metro Station concert. The Veronicas pushed the organisation, throughout their show, and encouraged their young audience to visit their display in the Challenge Stadium lobby. This endorsement would have served as great publicity for the group, and was aimed at a part of society Sea Shepherd would be keen to influence - Australia's enthusiastic youth.

We did take our son up to have a look at Sea Shepherd's display. We are members of Green Peace and The ACF, so were naturally curious about another environmental organisation. My husband, Nigel, commented that he had heard they were controversial and militant, and there was mass division of opinions on the way they went about their cause.

I have been cautiously considering my feelings on the organisation, and observing them since this time.

On January 6, 2010, the high speed Sea Shepherd vessel, the Ady Gil, was rammed and destroyed by the Shonan Maru #2. The Japanese vessel had been provoked and part of an ongoing 'war', but they still jeopardised the lives of the crewmen on the Ady Gil and sunk the vessel. It is easy to understand why Captain Bethune acted in anger, and boarded the offending vessel, to arrest the Japanese captain. However, he himself was detained, as a trespasser, and will find out his fate when the Shonan Maru#2 returns to Japan.

Regardless of the sensibility of the act, Captain Bethune showed great courage. He acted with passion and now endures a lengthy period at sea, because he was brave enough to confront his enemy.

Many of us sit in our living rooms, or at the pub, and discuss Japanese whaling, usually defending these amazing beasts of the sea, yet very few of us are prepared to actually do something proactive about it.

Perhaps Captain Bethune and his many supporters are cowboys, but they are determined to make a change. At the very least, we are talking about them and recognising that extensive Japanese whaling is taking place in the Southern Ocean.

Are they too militant for me to support? I'm still not sure, but I hope our grandchildren and great grandchildren will have a large enough population of whales to enjoy, and be able to thank organisations like Sea Shepherd for trying to do something about it!

photos are from Sea Shepherd's official web site

http://www.seashepherd.org/

She was only 18...

When I was 18 I was such a nerd!

I love being in a class full of young and vibrant students, with so much of their lives before them. I just know the next few years are going to be amazing for them.

Reading through their blogs, listening to their stories, has made me think about when I was only 18.

I was such a sheltered and naive teenager. I was raised in a very strict Catholic family, with a French father that ruled with an iron fist. My rules were very different to those of my brothers. I had to be home by midnight, and any potential boyfriends had to be screened by my parents. I wish I was kidding!!!

I loved music, especially UK pop. I read music magazines and spent hours listening to bands like Spandau Ballet, Thompson Twins, The Human League, Simple Minds, Madness, Howard Jones, OMD and Duran Duran. I had a boom box and spent all my money on records.

I had penpals from all over the world; real penpals that you used stamps and fancy stationary to correspond with. You waited weeks for a response, and you devoured every word.

I would dream about travelling the world, about meeting the right man, about starting a family. All of these were probably a means to move away from my controlling father, but dreams all the same.

I was working as a reader in a media monitoring company. It was my first job, and I loved it. I developed the ability to 'speed read' and found it was something I was actually good at. I read newspapers and magazines from all over Australia, and it was almost like 'travelling', knowing what was going on in other states. We didn't have the internet then!

Wednesday and Saturday nights were spent seeing live bands at The Shenton Park, where I had established a close knit group of friends, that I am still good friends with today. I played squash at Murdoch University, with friends studying to be vets, and I had started ballroom dancing.

I was very shy (hard to believe), drove a 1974 red Ford Escort and had just discovered hair gel. I wore short skirts and Doc Martens and believed I could save the world.

These are some of my memories, from when I was 18....

Can Men and Women be Friends?

One of my favourite movies, of all time, is 'When Harry Met Sally". There is a famous scene in the movie, where Billy Crystal is taking a long car journey with Meg Ryan, in which he says "Men and women can't be friends, because the sex part gets in the way."

In one of our early PR classes, Keith gave us a selection of topics to get up and talk about. One option was to talk about our best friend. I sat there and pondered whether or not it was a good idea to get up, in front of a bunch of strangers, and say, "Well, actually...my best friend is a guy, and I also happen to be married".

Society is terribly judgemental. There is still a lot of scepticism when two people of the opposite sex are "just friends", especially when they meet later in life.

I was introduced to Daniel by mutual friends. He was a newly single dad, struggling to father his three kids. I had a lot of children's books, clothes and toys I wanted to get rid of, and Daniel was quite happy to accept them.

When I first met Daniel, he was shy and quiet. He was quite obviously intelligent, kind and gentle. He was polite and charming, and for some reason we got on instantly, like long lost buddies.

We talked a lot about his work as an environmental scientist. I have a great interest in the environment, and was curious about what he did, and impressed by his position. He was certainly a quiet achiever in his field, and I admired his passion to make a difference.

His young son was struggling with reading. I gave him some tips, and soon after his son could not only read, but was addicted to books!

We would exchange a lot of emails about our kids, about life, about all sorts of issues. The emails got longer and more and more trusting. Both of us have a love of the written word and craved our daily accounts to each other, which became more important to Daniel when he had to go up to Karratha for work.

As we got closer, I began to question my values and "What would people think??" Was I supposed to be this close to another man, being a married woman?

I think the key was honesty. From the onset of our friendship, we made our intentions fairly clear. There were times we had to be brutal, but being able to express ourselves and to be very open, was important and empowering.

My husband was aware of the friendship from the start. I was respectful and let him know, all the time, what was going on. He trusted me and explained that I was never an orthodox person, so nothing ever surprised him about me and, for as long as he had known me, all of my closer friends had been male.

Eventually, Daniel and my husband met. We felt it was an important step, if we wanted to be life long friends and to keep things honest and respectful. It was amazing. The two men had an instant (very heterosexual) like for each other. They are two very different men, but had a lot in common.

Our families now spend a lot of time with each other. Boating, fishing, barbecues together, have just been some of the fun we have had. Daniel and his children even spent Christmas Day with us. The two men have a great interest in mining and the stock market, and are constantly sharing trading advice. The kids are just like cousins.

As you get older, it seems to become harder to make friends. School friends tend to move on, depending on what stage they are at in their lives. Some have families, while others never marry. We have made friends through our son's school, work and swim clubs, but not always 'intimate' friends that value your trust...friends you can openly love.

Daniel was the one who inspired me to go back to study. My husband had been bugging me for years, but now he had a partner in crime and he loves it!

Our friendship is very supportive. We usually meet for lunch once a week, to get things off our chests. Daniel has just received a huge promotion with a mining company, so struggles with the new pressures that have come with that. I don't have a lot of advice, but I will sit there and listen. He has really poor choices in women, so I sit there and pretend to care about his latest date :) we talk about our kids, we talk about my studies. I love it when I get a txt message from him, after my son has been at a swim meet, "So how did he go?"

To have people in your life, who really care about you, no matter the gender, is a beautiful thing.

Can men and women be friends? they certainly can be! yes, we do playfully flirt and can be nasty to each other, but we know where we stand, and accept we play an important role in each other's lives.

Why aren't you dead?

Some of you, reading this blog, will know how lucky I am to be here today. Others would be surprised.

Just 4 weeks ago, I was hanging on to life. At the time, I had no idea. I accepted I was seriously ill, but was pretty much in denial.

I had a post op appointment with my GP today. She has just received a report from the surgeon at St John of God Hospital in Bunbury. She has been my doctor for some 15 years now, and we have a great relationship.

Her face went white, her jaw dropped, she looked at me in shock and said, "Why are you still alive?!?"

It's a very confronting question, and one that has been asked over and over since January 16.

What happened?

Well, I can trace things back to the Green Day concert, at the start of December. I was supposed to attend a friend's wedding, the following day, but I suddenly felt unwell. I could not pinpoint what was wrong, but I was lethargic and felt 'out of sorts'. I slept a lot that weekend.

I eventually had cold-like symptoms, and shrugged things off as just some kind of viral infection, I would no doubt get over. School holidays had started, so I didn't have much to do, other than look after my son.

My persistent cough began to annoy others, as we got closer to Christmas, so I buckled and saw a doctor, at a GP After Hours Clinic. He wasn't very thorough, and just handed me a prescription for antibiotics, confessing he wasn't really sure why I had a fever, perhaps I had pneumonia, but these pills would fix it.

Christmas Day. I hardly remember Christmas Day. I was unable to eat and felt like I was in another world. I had no energy, felt miserable, but tried to hold things together for friends and family. I didn't want to ruin anybody's day, so soldiered on.

My husband suggested I should go to the hospital to get looked at, but I was stubborn and put on a brave face.

My health bounced around for the rest of the week. Then, on New Years Eve, I admitted there was no way I was able to go out, and spent the night in with some close friends, something I had never done before.

The antibiotics started to work, and I felt a little bit better, but the annoying cough continued..

We had arranged a camping trip, several months ago, with some friends, for early January. We were to spend 10 nights in Busselton, and we were all very excited. We had purchased a new towable for the boat, new items to make our camping experience more comfortable, and had even booked an on site refrigerator! we would be living like kings in the bush!!!

The first few nights at Busselton, I was incredibly sleepy. I always find it difficult to sleep on air mattresses, but I found I was falling asleep early, and unable to get up. Who can sleep for long hours on those things?!? I felt unsociable, retiring early each night, but I could not stay awake.

I began to retreat, emotionally, from friends and family. I was being asked, "Are you ok??", but I had no answer. I felt distant, perhaps even depressed, but I didn't feel like "me".

One evening, as the sun was going down, I started to experience stomach cramps. Initially, you wonder what you have eaten. The pain became more and more intense, as the night went on, until I could no longer tolerate it.

I agreed to let my husband take me to the Busselton Hospital. I kept thinking, "They aren't going to find anything wrong with me and I'm going to look like an idiot".

The Busselton Hospital operates as a GP After Hours facility. I was taken in to the emergency department, and was attended to by the doctor on duty. He couldn't work out what was wrong, and said I would need an ultrasound, but that wouldn't be available until the next morning, so I would have to go home and come back. He apologised for their lack of resources, and sent me off with some pain killers.

The pain killers worked a treat, and I felt pretty good the next morning. I arrogantly decided I wasn't having an ultrasound in a country town. I couldn't see any point either, as the pain had passed.

I was wrong! midnight, I am in the tent, and the pain was so intense, I couldn't walk, I couldn't breathe, even though I had taken the painkillers. I now knew I was in trouble!

With my tail between my legs, I limped in to the Busselton Hospital, knowing I would have to face the duty doctor and explain why I hadn't gone for the ultrasound. He was surprisingly caring, and explained he suspected it was my appendicts and we had to act quickly..he wanted me to be transferred to Bunbury.

My heart sunk. I really just wanted to go home. I asked him to release me, but he said, "I can't release you, because you are in serious trouble. I can't risk sending you to Perth, because I don't think you will make it that far." I was terrified!

I endured a very bumpy ride to Bunbury, accompanied by some lovely local volunteers. I was still oblivious to how my life was in the balance.

I was subjected to a barrage of blood tests and ultrasounds. I was now on morpheine, so the pain was under control, but I really did not want to be there. I hate hospitals!

The surgeon was unable to diagnose what was going on, but he suspected appendicitus, and felt I needed to be operated on immediately. I'd be having a laporoscopy, sometimes known as 'key-hole' surgery, and would be left with a small scar. It would all be over in about 15 minutes.

I remember waking from surgery, completely traumatised. I was screaming and so overcome by pain. I can remember the nurses trying to calm me, and told me they would make me comfortable as soon as possible. I looked down at my tummy and could see there was far more surgery than 'key hole'...there was a stretch of tape from above my belly button, all the way down.

My husband and son came in to see me. They still weren't sure what had happened, but they said I had been away for at least 3 hours!!!

The surgeon finally came in to see me. He looked at me and shook his head and said, "I don't know why you are still alive". He went on to explain that, on opening me up, he encountered so much fluid and pus, he wouldn't work out which of my organs were infected. He told me I had peritonitis.

I had heard of the term before, but had no idea what it really was, and was hanging out to google it, like any person would these days.

I switched off. It all sounded too scary. I think I absorbed "fluid", "infection" and "your abdomen was a mess".

My husband later filled me in with the details about my bowel, my uterus, my fallopian tubes, my ovaries AND my appendicts.

I was very sore from the surgery. I began to feel homesick and isolated. Friends came down to Bunbury to take my son for the period I was there. I missed him, but felt relieved he was in good care. My husband spent the two weeks with me, in or around the hospital.

My recovery has been much better than I was told and expected. I now know the difference between feeling unwell and well, as my energy levels increase more and more each day.

I look back and can't believe it happened. The journey was an interesting one though. I bonded with friends, reconnected with my brother and have heard from people I haven't heard from in ages!

I don't know why I'm not dead, but I am so happy to be alive!

Take me to an island...

I have been thinking about Hawaii a fair bit this week. I was a lady of luxury, for the most part, before starting at Central. I miss those sunny days by the pool, or sitting on the beach, shopping and coffee with friends. I know it will all be worth it WHEN I graduate!

I'm determined to graduate. I have put so many things off, while life keeps passing me by.

I'm loving the Public Relations course, so it isn't at all a chore. I love the abundance of youthful enthusiasm by the other students. I love being challenged, and I am enjoying utilising my writing skills. My mind has now opened up to other opportunities, and my confidence in myself has begun to grow.

Now back to Hawaii! I love Hawaii. I am lucky enough to have been there 5 times. I'm drawn to the people. the laid back attitude (island time), Teriyaki chicken, the absolute craziness of Waikiki, the music, the shopping, the weather, the beaches, the complete tackiness of the place…Hawaii laughs at itself! I love the loud shirts, the amazing plants, the hula girls, cocktails on the beach, the smell of frangipanis and coconut milk, the sand in my toes, Hilo Hatties, coconut palms, Gilligans Island and Elvis!

What’s not to like about Hawaii? what's not to like about Public Relations Certificate IV at Central? :)

ALOHA

She's Leaving Australia....

Do I really care that one of Australia's most controversial politicians has decided to leave our shores?

I prefer to think that I am voyeuristically entertained, by Pauline Hanson's latest episode, in a somewhat crazy tale of ignorance, biggotary and how the 'unlikely' rose to fame.

Disliked by many in Australia, though loved by some Aussie battlers and those in the blue rinse brigade, she still managed to invade our lives and forced us to challenge our own beliefs. She was considered, by some, as one of the most influential Australians in our history.

With her One Nation Party, Pauline had us look at immigration, and government grants to the Aboriginal community. She was accused of being a racist, an image she denied, claiming 'white Australians' were victims of reverse racism.

Mocked by a large section of the media, this former fish and chip owner will remain known for some of Australian history's most famous quotes.

Who could forget some of these?:

I may be only a fish and chip shop lady, but some of these economists need to get their heads out of the textbooks and get a job in the real world. I would not even let one of them handle my grocery shopping.

and


I come here not as a polished politician but as a woman who has had her fair share of life's knocks.

She really was a very ordinary person, living an extraordinary life. Perhaps a lot of her support stemmed from battlers that felt they could relate to her. Despite her somewhat radical views, she did have a following. Many agreed with her, feeling threatened by issues like immigration, while others purely felt disgruntled by the more powerful traditional political parties.

One of the most humorous events in Pauline's leadership was when her solution to manage the Australian economy was to "print more money".

So, goodbye Pauline. You were a large part of my life, but I don't think I will be mourning your departure. I will think of your whining voice, from time to time, stunning us with comments as simple as ,"I don't like it."

What you did do Pauline, was allow us all to dream, and showed us the unthinkable can really happen.

Precious Heartbeat

My funny little man brings so much joy to me. I still step back and gaze at him and wonder why I was so blessed.

As I observed him wandering up the familiar path to my car, I caught his smile as he saw me. This is truly the favourite part of my day.

He tumbles in to the passenger seat, messy hair, his disheveled uniform, excited to see me and to recount yet another big day at school. He is such a story teller. He loves to embelish every minor event with such excitement.

Sometimes he is so excited, the words rush out like an over filled downpipe, and I have to slow him down. I try to keep up with who did this and to what and to when and to who..and did I think about getting tickets to the latest whiz bang car show? Did I know about the latest Bugatti, and would he have time to use the computer when he got home?

There’s always a new scratch to examine, the anguished sigh of some injustice from that day, and the predictable “I’m really hungry!”

His attention soon turns to his iPod and he tunes out from my questions, now time to listen to 'Parlez vous Francais' or some other latest hit, he plays way too often.

I examined his face today. His boyish looks are fading too quickly. I can hear his voice is starting to deepen. His skin is tanned, from spending so much time in the water this Summer, just like my own.

These are the days I will forever cherish….

Don't Follow Your Dreams - Chase Them

We are moving house. It's an arduous task packing boxes, deciding what to keep or dispose of.

We started in the lounge room. Our lounge room is formal and full of antiques. It is my favourite room in the house, and one that I will miss.

We have a Tasmanian Oak sideboard from the 1800's. We use it to display our Christmas village, or cards from special occasions. Consequently, the drawers are full of various mementos, from events gone by.

I flicked through a bunch of old birthday cards. Most of them were crudely scribed from my son's young friends. I smiled as I reminisced his different changes of age, his wonderful juvenile parties.

My heart suddenly sunk. I found some cards from my 40th birthday party. One of them, so beautifully written, was from my darling friend Cherie.

Cherie was the sister I never had. She was younger than me, but it didn’t matter…we connected. We shared a sense of humour and revelled in each other’s naughtiness.

I will always think of Cherie at Christmas time. I remember having to stop her from disrupting the neighbours, after she gleefully emptied the cocktail machine, at one of the parties we had here. She was ALWAYS funny!

I worked with Cherie. She was a young accountant doing her professional year and was really struggling. She had failed a few units, and it used to really rock her.
She buried herself in her love for the gym and her dog.

Cherie made bad boyfriend choices and we often joked about this. She was madly in love with a policeman and was eventually engaged, until she found out he had been involved with a fellow officer and she was now pregnant. Cherie was devestated…that was late 2005.

In early 2006, Cherie received the news her mum had lung cancer. We spent many long nights on the phone, as Cherie struggled to come to terms with this. Soon after, my own mother became terminally ill, so she extended her support towards me, and the bond became tighter.

It was about August/September of 2006 when a very white faced young lady came in to the filing room, carrying a large envelope from a pathology lab. She asked me to come in to her office and to take a look at it.

Cherie had been experiencing back pain for some time. She had a life of calasthenics and other sports, so it was thought the pain can come from this, but her pain became more and more unbearable.

She explained to me that she had had a series of scans to rule out possibilities for the back pain, and was supposed to take the envelope to her doctor, but she had opened it..
We both cried as we read the report, "Severe mestatics disease suspected". We got on to the internet and googled and cried some more as we became informed at just how grim the news was. A couple of the older women in the office tried to be encouraging, but the results were not good.

“The lesions in my lungs are bigger than my mums!!” she whispered to me.

Ironically, she had just begun dating a lovely guy she had met on the bus to the Delta Goodrem concert, and she wrestled with how she was going to break this awful news to him, so early in their relationship.

She was incredibly brave. We spoke constantly and she always managed to find something to laugh about, as she began more and more investigations in to her tumours.

I would always get a text right after an appointment..things like “yeah, my bone marrow is clear!” She was forever optimistic and wanted us to be as well.

She was feeling pretty sick by my 40th birthday party on October 12. She sat quietly on the couch, but I knew it was incredibly special having her there.

Cherie then started radiation and chemo therapy…she was constantly swollen and sick and wasn’t keen for people to see her like this. We would talk on the phone most days, and I even offered her my eggs (she was saddened by the idea of losing her fertility).

On a Monday, in late November, I had a long phone call with Cherie. She was in the hospital. We joked about her coming to live with me…all sorts of things. She sounded optimistic and vibrant.

Just a few days later, we had the most awful text message “Cherie is heading towards the light”
I remember breaking down and crying out, “What the hell does that mean???”

Following this we received a bunch of confused and saddened phone calls from mutual friends. We knew they had taken her much loved dog in to the Mount Hospital, so things were certainly not going well.

A few days later, on November 29, 2006 my beautiful Cherie passed away.

The French translation of Cherie is sweetheart and she really was!
Cherie’s death would be in vane if we didn’t learn from it. From that day I took very little for granted. I embraced life more and realised we have to chase our dreams. I no longer cared as much about what people thought and remembered to tell people I loved them.

You often hear..”Life is short” and it really can be! you need to embrace each day as if it is your last

I will always love you Cherie ooxxoxox