Saturday, June 23, 2012


I am the second oldest of six children. My older brother Andrew is sixteen months older than me and was my best friend as little children. He was always busy and I was quite content to just sit and watch him zoom about around me.

Andrew had a tendency to repeat things he heard from others. I remember Mum telling me when they moved to a new area, they went to the park and Andrew overheard some kids swearing. The following Sunday they attended church in their new area for the first time and sat near the back. Andrew stood up on the seat and yelled out his newly learnt swear word as loud as he could.

It must have been reasons such as this why my parents made the decision to come up with a little nickname for a certain part of the male anatomy. I know this is very common and the little names people come up with really amuse me.

My parents decided "belly" would be safe - I don't even know how they came up with it. We referred to our stomach as our "tummy" anyway so there were no issues with confusion there.

This little nickname worked well until Christmas a few years on. Once we were all old enough to understand the actual words, imagine our shock when we were read "TWas the Night Before Christmas". For those less familiar with this poem, the line that furrowed my eyebrows is;

"The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round BELLY,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!"

Even though I still liked Santa and I certainly liked the presents, I have to admit, this poem did change my view of him a little.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Jo Ostrich Bush

I don't really like to watch the news. I have no objection with being up to date with current events in the world, I just don't like seeing some of the horrific things shown. Natural disasters and accidents are nothing to be taken lightly, but it's the cruel and nasty things some people CHOOSE to put another person through that made up my mind to just not watch.  I know, I know, I am burying my head in the sand.

I have heard a lot of people, particularly those with children, commenting on the state of the world and their fears for their children having to grow up in such a society. Sometimes I do too. But my confidence in my fellow men is restored on a regular basis. There is a lot of negative in our world, but I KNOW our world is also full of good people. People who have shown us so much kindness.

Last week at the shop, Carter was sitting on one of those $2 horse carousal rides (I remember these being 20 cents!). An older lady came and started chatting to Carter and kindly put $2 into the ride to start it going. I opened my purse to give her $2, but she quickly declined and said it simply made her happy to see Carter happy.

With strangers like this in the world, I don't worry too much. The people I know make me worry even less.

Last weekend, we moved house. Without any exaggeration, moving house is my worst task! Ever. In the world. I HATE it!

I love once you have settled into the new house with everything set up nicely and all the clutter and junk thrown out. It's very refreshing.

But it's so much work and effort to get to that point! All the sorting, and packing, and transporting, and the never ending cleaning. My muscles ache even thinking about it. Clearly I am a weakling and my aversion to any kind of physical labour also doesn't align well with the task of moving house.

Nevertheless, we moved last weekend, but we did not do it alone. I have been so touched by the offers of help we have received. From boxes given to us, transportation help, to assistance with packing and cleaning, to child minding, and help with actually moving boxes, we have felt so blessed to know such kind, generous people.

I know our world can be a scary place with some not-so-nice people out there. But nearly every day I get to experience kindness and positivity. So when 6 pm rolls around, I don't turn on the news. Perhaps it's burying my head in the sand, but I just want to think of the world filled with good, because that's what I get to see every day.