I’m feeling list-less…
I always start my precious day off with great intentions; a cup of tea and a to-do list (Aunty Darling loves them). Then I pop out to run an errand, sans list, forgetting two minor, yet important, tasks (PO Box key and shopping list for tonight’s dinner). On return, the envelope holding my list is no longer on this planet.
Pfft, no worries I’ve got heaps of envelopes (and love to re-use before I recycle). A moments distraction, flicking through a catalogue, and boom, great idea strikes and a new list starts. On the catalogue.
Generally speaking, I am not concerned about doubling up on tasks (like that’s ever happened). It’s more about forgetting things, like; not picking up my ‘good’ frock from the dry cleaner, and having nothing to wear tomorrow night! Grrr..I open the back door, stroll into the garden for a quick primal scream. Ahh, that’s better. Ooh, light-bulb moment, maybe I put the list in the recycle bin? I’d better check, just in case I have another rude awakening looming. But first, some weeding. The borders look terrible.
Yes, I have read those blogs, and use the ‘reminder’ and ‘notes’ features on my phone, to help me keep my shit together. Writing something down does work. Honey, that’s how most of us got through the 1980’s. If only I could keep track of the envelopes, just while I’m transitioning to ‘paperless!
with love from somewhere
Aunty Beads
She’s Wanda-ful…
Here’s to the Queen, the Queen of Rockabilly (the only queen we Irish girls will abide), proclaimed throughout the land – Miss Wanda Jackson.
We arrive at the Corner Hotel, Richmond and the crowd is gathering. The rockabilly hairstyles and fashions are standouts; this is not your usual crowd.
Inside Ezra Lee, his dad, his brother and a friend are belting out some Jerry Lee Lewis style songs while the crowd hugs the bar. The Corner is the perfect spot for the gut-bucket rockin twang of rockabilly. My ears are rubbing their hands together.
The crowd moves forward during the break, anticipating Wanda. Ezra Lee and the band return to intro the Queen. She steps boldly out on stage with her big black hair, white fringed jacket and bows her welcome to the crowd. She owns it, the crowd surge forward, applauding, reaching, expectant.
Wanda Lavonne Jackson is 75. She’s been recording hits since the 1950s, was a peer of Elvis Presley’s (who she credits as getting her singing rock’n’roll), is a songwriter, pianist, plays guitar (pink!), inspired Adele to write her hit ‘Rollin in the Deep’ and recently worked with Jack White on a new album.
She has longevity and she has cool. Six decades in the spotlight.
She tells us she is going to take us on a musical journey, and wow what a trip. Kicking in with fabulous hits like ‘Hard Headed Woman’ (is a thorn in the side of a man)
The crowd sings along with her, loving lines like ‘brrr… shivers down my backbone’, like we had them ourselves. More hits ‘Let’s Have a Party’, ‘Whole Lotta Shakin Goin On’, the journey feels timeless.
She does however let us in on the time the lord came into her life. The godless sinful crowd stays quiet, fiddling with their phones, looking around the room… she gets on with it though, the hits keep comin and comin.
She rips, growls and yodels like a woman possessed, and we can’t get enough. Well actually I have to sit down with my knee hurting from my last gig (read how here).
Wanda is a living enigma, a wild woman, ageless, free… though I’m not sure what Wendall would say about that. If you ever get the chance you simply MUST see her.
Love Aunty Mod
Connect with Wanda:
- Go to her website for tour updates.
- Her Facebook page has lots of great media too
Dear Mollie
Dear Mollie,
We love getting letters, old school or new school. We love that the girls are reminded, often, that things have changed and it may be time for them to act more ladylike. Thanks again Mollie, makes better reading than some of the girls’ posts, love The Valet.
Hi Girls,
I thought you might like this for your library…..
Glad I was NOT OLD ENOUGH to be at that caper… well nearly… I wish I could meet the man who put pen to paper to even think of it. Thank goodness we live in a world where it is now the other way around… WELL… it is in our house and Cel loves it… except the rollers get tangled in his hair, and we both like different brands of face cream, and as for the MOANS and UNUSUAL PRACTICES… we are currently writing our own version of FIFTY SHADES.. or is it the… 60’s shades.
Love you
Mollie xxxx
Trying on wetsuits.
I just don’t swim.
I love the ‘idea’ of being a water-babe, so I decided if everyone else can get in the water, then so shall I. With a wetsuit.
To the shops.
Selecting some wetsuits, I confidently headed towards the change rooms. My husband (a dolphin who swims regardless of temperature in, or out of the water) popped his head in to offer wisdom and advice. According to him, a wetsuit should be so tight, you almost can’t breathe. Which, when you think about it; is kind of the same as going in water, which is so cold, you hold your breath. Which is why I don’t do it in the first place!
I eventually chose the wetsuit which was to come home with me. Then my ever-helpful husband handed me one of those wet-suit top things to try, ‘cheap as chips’ he said, as he disappeared to continue foraging (for himself).
I was already struggling with heat fatigue when I pulled the top over my head. Failing to check the size was a deeply regrettable moment. I realised it was too tight when I was trapped. This top was not going any further than head, shoulders and armpits, elbows trapped above my head and hands dangling, in a circulation cutting sort of way. Prognosis, not good!
Okay, now it was REALLY, REALLY, HOT in this godforsaken, clearance outlet (shed) in Queensland.
Husband. Where is he?
It was not a pretty sight; a hyperventilating, sweat fountain, STUCK in a wetsuit top, anxiety setting in.
What if I faint? What if I DIE? How would they explain it on the news? ‘We believe the woman got stuck in a youth sized wetsuit top and expired. There is a call for Government warning signs to appear in changing rooms’
No way was I getting out of that sucker without dislocating a shoulder. Forcing cool thoughts into my mind was tricky; wetsuit top stuck to my skin, music too loud, head about to explode. And still no husband.
Taking a few deep breaths, I calmly told myself ‘you will get this bloody thing off’, ‘you are not going to faint’, and ‘you know who better start running’.
With one last, almighty heave, I yanked it over my head off……freeeeedom!! I still get a headache to think about it! It is now the end of summer and I still haven’t used my wetsuit, so my dreams of embracing my inner water-babe, remain just that – inner!
A list of lists
Those who know me even slightly know that I’m a list maker. And those that know me better know that my lists can be found all over the place. On the margins of the newspaper, on the backs of envelopes.
Yes, I love to make lists, and I do believe that I was the first person to invent the little (tick) box drawn at the end of each list idea.
Sometimes, I’ll put something on my list that I’ve already accomplished just so I can tick it off (see point 5 below).
So, when I read that Richard Branson (I’m sorry but with my Irish background I’ll tarry with no Sirs) had some ideas for list making – I was most excited.
Here is his list, which I snaffled from his blog.
- Write down every single idea you have, no matter how big or small
- Always carry a notebook
- Find a list method that works for you. Doodles, bullet-points, charts – what suits you best?
- Make a list of small, manageable tasks to complete every day
- Mark off every completed task – you’ll find making each tick very satisfying
- Make your goals measurable so you know if your plans are working
- Set far off, outlandish goals. What do you want to have achieved by 2020?
- Include personal goals in your lists, not just business
- Share your goals with others. You can help motivate each other further
- Celebrate your successes – then make new lists of new goal.
I love it – a list for your lists. But first on my list is Richard’s second – always carry a notebook. But it’s gotta be a great one, really beautiful, not too big and if it has some embossing – all the better. Then get yourself a lovely pen and away you go. In fact you might like these?
Knit that…
Someone mentioned knitting? It’s been the hottest Summer but knitting always seems to be waiting and ready to pounce. Is it because we crave to quieten the body and the mind after a hectic time, to snuggle up and relax with our mate and enjoy steaming hot cups of chocolate or tea on those long Winter evenings…
yet still have the need to be productive, to feel useful and not waste time?
I am reknown more for having a go, rather than necessarily fully completing (some) projects. Knitting definitely fits this category (well quilting too but that’s another story).
Knitting and I go way back, I completed many scarves as a youngster and gave them away, but mostly I tried to knit projects well outside my area of expertise and skill – Aaron sweaters, long jackets, even a hat! ‘I can knit that” I’d tell myself.
I moved recently, twice in 10 months, and downsized about as much as anyone can – from my country home with 3 bedrooms on a half acre block to a 3 bedroomed unit to a 2 bedroomed apartment in Melbourne CBD – I was ruthless but I could not let go of my knitting pile. I am going to knit that.
About 6 years ago I bought wool to contribute to a project for a breast cancer project. Beautiful, feathery wool in 4 different colours for my sisters. Just scarves I concluded, just scarves would be ok. I completed one scarf, the rest is waiting for me, lurking in the bottom of the wardrobe!
I will knit that.
First Train From Ratville
The fur of my coat collar tickled my neck as I snuggled into it waiting for the train. The diehards were already here – automatons with coffee (not a judgment, rather the observation of one who has been there – back in the day).
The air gathered visibly as I sighed loudly, I could hear the cold. The sun cut a swath through the grey-blue tone of the sky and burst into a loud giggle that hurt my eyes.
The train approached, its awesomeness even turning the heads of the regulars. It gracefully sidled up beside me, dropping its gleaming steel skirts beside the platform. The doors opened all at once in an Elizabethan bow, inviting us to enter the party.
Trains remind me of trains; from the 1920s sleeper from Ha Noi to Lao Cai; the 1960s compartment for an adventure weekend; the 1900s open air to the races and now the ratville express. It never gets old.
It keeps being re-imagined. The tunnel between Italy and Austria opens in 2016, and I plan to be on the first train through it. The tunnel promises to challenge the aircraft for efficiency. That’s fine as long as it maintains the dignity and elegance of train travel.
As I begin to pencil my map of train experiences, and where to next, I will be keeping a close eye (well the Valet will be instructed to keep a close eye) on the Gotthard Base Tunnel, AND be first in line for tickets…
Until then I will need to entertain myself with High Tea on the Singapore Flyer, not a train, but still very elegant…
